Monday, January 11, 2010

A Matter of Pubic Safety

I don't know what to think about those body scanners that they want at the airport. I know they don't see through skin flaps, of which I have a few -- behind which there must be ample room to hide a copious plethora of combustible materiel. You know, because of my gigantic external genitalia. Of course, the gay agenda has its internal genitalia, although genitalia may not be the correct appellation, into which even more perhaps malleable plastiques might be inserted. Point is, the scanners may be a deterrent, but they don't seem all that likely to be an effective prophylactic, explosively speaking.

The real controversy is of course about seeing people's units. It's already a rule that minors are exempt. No underage titties are to be viewed, however indirectly or remotely. That's a good thing, I should think. So the question resolves around what the meaning of is naked is. I just heard a promo on the radio, Dennis Prager saying something about if you've got clothes on, you can't be naked. That misses the real point, that it's not about naked, but about visible. If I wear transparent gauze, as I often do, revealing the contours and coloration of my baby's arm holding an apple, am I naked? Or if I'm wrapped in cellophane. I often awaken, inexplicably wrapped in cellophane. I set up a camera to watch me sleeping, but it always turns to static. No matter. I'm apparently somebody's fantasy.

So it's not about cloth on skin. It's not about being behind blankets or glass. It's not about naked. It's about privacy, revealed. Hm. Isn't there something about that in the Constitution? Privacy is often in tension with broad issues of public safety, though. Categories of your sick sick pornography collection violate public safety. It's everybody's business. And when they are shielding high explosives, moslem penises become our business. We might suppose that bomb-enfolding penises of any confession are our business. It's just that so far it's only moslem penises that fall into this intersection of the Venn diagram of religious behaviors and insanity.

What do the scanners show? Something not unlike a squashed baby bird cradled mournfully in our briefs? Something like a pixelated infrared depiction of the Loch Ness Monster's neck? Some sort of virtual reality Anime cartoon of Ken and Barbie fresh out of the torso mold? I couldn't be bothered to bother to inform myself. As long as ineffective half-measures remain the gold standard in our ongoing dialog with islamism, having our grandmothers felt up by the probing digits of TSA apparatchiks is an indignity we will enthusiastically continue to stoop for. Because if we profile for islamists, the terrorists will have won. Or do I mean if we profile for terrorists, the islamists will have won. Yes. Both.

Because America is all about freedom, and privacy. The freedom to be publicly groped at airports. The privacy to have your johnson's outline broadcast from a secret undisclosed location. You know, like your massive secret stash of freaky humiliating pornographic images. Sicko. Your fixation on acrobatic grannies is way past cute anymore. At first we thought this Harold and Maude thing of yours was just a phase. But dude. For real. Get some help.


1 comment:

bob k. mando said...

maybe this is why you wake up wrapped in cellophane?