Ah, the airport, where modern folk heroes are made. The airport, where that inspired flight attendant did what everyone who’s ever been in the spam-in-a-can crush of a flying aluminum tube — where we collectively pretend that a clutch of peanuts is a meal and a seat cushion is a “flotation device” — has always dreamed of doing: pull the lever, blow the door, explode the chute, grab a beer, slide to the tarmac, and walk through the gates to the sanity that lies beyond. Not since Rick and Louis disappeared into the Casablanca fog headed for the Free French garrison in Brazzaville has a stroll on the tarmac thrilled so many.
Who cares that the crazed steward got arrested, pleaded guilty to sundry charges, and probably was a rude, unpleasant S.O.B to begin with? Bonnie and Clyde were psychopaths, yet what child of the ’60s did not fall in love with Faye Dunaway and Warren Beatty?
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And now three months later, the newest airport hero arrives. His genius was not innovation in getting out, but deconstructing the entire process of getting in. John Tyner, cleverly armed with an iPhone to give YouTube immortality to the encounter, took exception to the TSA guard about to give him the benefit of Homeland Security’s newest brainstorm — the upgraded, full-palm, up-the-groin, all-body pat-down. In a stroke, the young man ascended to myth, or at least the next edition of Bartlett’s, warning the agent not to “touch my junk.”
Not quite the 18th-century elegance of “Don’t Tread on Me,” but the age of Twitter has a different cadence from the age of the musket. What the modern battle cry lacks in archaic charm, it makes up for in full-body syllabic punch.
Don’t touch my junk is the anthem of the modern man, the Tea Party patriot, the late-life libertarian, the midterm-election voter. Don’t touch my junk, Obamacare — get out of my doctor’s examining room; I’m wearing a paper-thin gown slit down the back. Don’t touch my junk, Google — Street View is cool, but get off my street. Don’t touch my junk, you airport-security goon — my package belongs to no one but me, and do you really think I’m a Nigerian nut job preparing for my 72-virgin orgy by blowing my johnson to kingdom come?
In Up in the Air, that ironic take on the cramped freneticism of airport life, George Clooney explains why he always follows Asians in the security line:
“They pack light, travel efficiently, and they got a thing for slip-on shoes, God love ’em.”
“That’s racist!”
“I’m like my mother. I stereotype. It’s faster.”
That riff is a crowd-pleaser because everyone knows that the entire apparatus of the security line is a national homage to political correctness. Nowhere do more people meekly acquiesce to more useless inconvenience and needless indignity for less purpose. Wizened seniors strain to untie their shoes; beltless salesmen struggle comically to hold up their pants; three-year-olds scream while being searched insanely for explosives, when everyone — everyone — knows that none of these people is a threat.
We pretend that we go through this nonsense as a small price paid to assure the safety of air travel. Rubbish. This has nothing to do with safety — 95 percent of these inspections, searches, shoe removals, and pat-downs are ridiculously unnecessary. The only reason we continue to do this is that people are too cowed to even question the absurd taboo against profiling — when the profile of the airline attacker is narrow, concrete, uniquely definable, and universally known. So instead of seeking out terrorists, we seek out tubes of gel in stroller pouches.
The junk man’s revolt marks the point at which a docile public declares that it will tolerate only so much idiocy. Metal detector? Back-of-the-hand pat? Okay. We will swallow hard and pretend airline attackers are randomly distributed in the population.
But now you insist on a full-body scan, a fairly accurate representation of my naked image to be viewed by a total stranger? Or alternatively, the full-body pat-down, which, as the junk man correctly noted, would be sexual assault if performed by anyone else?
This time you have gone too far, Big Bro’. The sleeping giant awakes. Take my shoes, remove my belt, waste my time, and try my patience. But don’t touch my junk.
Ah, Charles, you have redeemed yourself. After reading your puzzling and specious defense of Dear Leader’s absurd Asian trip that rivaled the cost of the Apollo moon program on top of your visceral and untimely caterwauling against Christine O’Donnell upon her winning the Delaware primary my deep respect and admiration for your social and political insights took a couple of huge hits.
But, hallelujah, you’re back on your game.
You couldn’t be more correct – ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!
To borrow a phrase: are we men or are we mice? Every self-respecting grown-up must join in an ear-splitting, roof-raising chorus to stop this insanity. Ok, so we have to endure two more years of the grotesquely incompetent Janet Napolitano. We can live with that disgrace. But you hit the nail on the head “none of these people (i.e.,99.99% of us) is a threat”!
This is madness. This is an outrageous imposition by a clueless, arrogant, obnoxious, self-righteous, Big Brother group of nosey busy-bodies that must be shown the door.
Come on, people, smile on your brother (and sister) and end this travesty now!
Typical of communist utopianism, we move more and more quickly toward the lowest common denominator. Everyone is equal, therefore we shall all be treated as terrorists. Everyone shall be equal, therefore we shall all be poor together. In fairness. Except for the ruling class, every time.
Charles, your wit is refreshing as is your ability to disassemble the idiocy of the PC left in this country. Keep them on their toes, and away from our junk!
I'm looking forward to my next flight when I request that my son and I get frisked by a female agent rather than a male.
In the name of profiling and stereotyping, I don't see a lot of women being arrested for molesting young children. I'd prefer that any man without a "Dr." in front of his name kept his hands off my son's junk... and mine for that matter.
Don't tread on me was a national appeal, in response to England's policies which were intrusive to the colonies' self-governance.
Don't touch my junk is an individual appeal, in response to police state's intrusiveness to the individual.
That is a salient distinction; we have too long neglected to defend our inalienable rights against domestic encroachments.
The TSA was yet another ill conceived expensive government solution to a real world problem designed to provide the illusion of security to the traveling public.
"The junk man’s revolt marks the point at which a docile public declares that it will tolerate only so much idiocy"
In one short sentence, Dr. Krauthammer has captured the essence of the political moment and its movement. Hopefully this moment will mark the end of our long policy nightmare.
This is utter nonsense. Of course certain demographics are more likely to be terrorists, and it makes sense to scrutinize them more carefully. But...nobody thinks a businessman can possibly be a threat? Or a child? As soon as we let such people through unchecked the terrorists will do everything in their power to find one converted/radicalized middle aged Caucasian guy with a kid (and there have been many) to blow up a plane.
This also ignores American terrorists like Timothy McVeigh. Yes, of course, they are less common but they do exist and should not be so lightly disregarded.
There is a conversation to be had here about the balance between safety and civil rights. I'm not suggesting that full-on groping is necessarily acceptable. But insisting we go easy on anyone who does not fit a narrow profile is absurd and irresponsible.
We need to have the conversation, find the balance, and apply it to everyone.
I agree that these techniques are not very useful and actually play into the Terrorist plans to make us as uncomfortable as possible and take away all the freedoms we have fought so hard to hold onto. They do go too far.
Although on the other hand, I personally, would rather go through the scanner then be patted down in public in this new manner. I understand the people's frustration with the level of detail these scanners have, but my question is simple.....Who is actually seeing these images?
Is it some guy/girl sitting in a private booth away from the public where no one esle can see these images? If so, whats the big deal? It's not being broadcast publically, the person seeing it can not see your face. I can see the outrage if the images were in plain sight to the rest of the public, but I don't think it is.
I would like to see the evolution of this process be similar to the Total recall movie, where you simply walk through at a casual pace and keep it going. That seems the most unobtrusive way to do this.
Can we say "PERFECT" once again about Dr. K's prose and wisdom?
BTW, when I first heard about this modern "cri-de-coeur", I thought "Hey, somebody oughta make teeshirts or bumper stickers or something!" I checked the web. There are HUNDREDS of variations already out there, so look for "Don' Touch My Junk" to eclipse "Don't Tase Me, Bro" and others as the next major meme since Santelli's "Tea Party" inspiration.
I have been waiting very patiently for NRO to begin discussions on this topic. I have been following it closely on Drudge and am thrilled that Joe Public is fighting this one as well. I will not be flying anywhere until this ends and have let the travel authorities know they will be losing my business. I will not be felt up or have a naked picture of myself in the system.
The fairly accurate representation of the naked body that you wrote of, in case you all are not aware, it seems that the picture taken can somehow be inverted and that picture then becomes VERY accurate. I don't understand all the technology behind it and, apparently the TSA agent behind the screen won't see it this way, but the machines do have the capability to do it and if some sicko wanted to take the picture and invert it, he very easily could.
Why we do not go to the Israeli model of airpot security is a complete mystery. Profiling is what is going to actually keep us safe and stop the terrorists. The way things are now makes the US look like a complete joke and it is sad.
The citing of "Don't touch my junk" as the animating sentiment of the Tea Party movement is brilliant.
I am a retired AF colonel. My last trip through Dulles airport, about two months ago, I was patted down twice! Once at initial screening and again as I went through the big metal detector deal. I presented an official DoD identification, which they passed through their anti-fraud detection device. And then they deemed, twice in 20 minutes, that I needed to be patted down. It is idiocy.
As I go through the day, I wonder about my other junk they want to touch:
- I had some lean years, earnings-wise, after I retired from the military, putting little in my 401K. Now I am doing better and want to put more money in for the future. No, the government tells me how much junk I can put in and can't put in my 401K. Why?
- I will never understand why the federal government takes so much of my junk through the Alternative Miniumum Tax. Why?
- During the Cash for Clunkers fiasco, I tried to trade in a blue-smoke-belching 1992 Taurus through the program. In 2009 the car was getting about 8 miles to the gallon. The feds explained my junk (literally this time) wasn't eligible, because its mileage (when it was new in 1992!) was too good for the program in 2009! Why?
Even my philosophic junk is getting touched up pretty badly. I have lived a life of very strong commitment to civil rights, but then I hear my president tell Black Americans last month that Republicans (like me) don't want Black people to vote! Why?
I am sick of being micromanaged and insulted by my government.
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