Fevers That Won’t Break
The rules are there to protect us from terrorism, and I don’t want there to be any more terrorist attacks but I had conditioner in my carry-on bag anyway. What the hell has happened to my country, where that last statement now makes any sort of sense? In the past week I’ve written three separate posts about my damned hair and how I wash it (four if you count this one), and these posts aren’t some vapid beauty-salon chitchat but actual discussions of government regulations supposedly helping us fight the war on terror.
Granted, I’m writing this in a fever dream. But after the fever breaks this still will reflect reality.
Meanwhile, Ryan Bird has channeled his disgust for the TSA in a more productive direction: starting a website encouraging Americans who fly to write “Kip Hawley Is An Idiot” on their Ziploc baggies of approved toiletries. Unfortunately, I lacked the courage to do any such thing when I flew last week, because I didn’t want to draw unwelcome government attention to the illicit amounts of conditioner and shampoo in my anti-terrorist Ziploc bag. There’s another sentence which has no damned business making any sense after my fever breaks, but I’m afraid it will.
5 Comments:
Unfortunately, I lacked the courage to [write "Kip Hawley is an Idiot"] because I didn’t want to draw unwelcome government attention to the illicit amounts of conditioner and shampoo in my anti-terrorist Ziploc bag.
From this, the TSA can conclude that any bag not bearing the anti-Kip-Hawley message probably contains illegal fluids. Exterminate! Exterminate!
Once it has "Kip Hawley is an idiot" written on it, it becomes a pro-terrorist Ziploc bag.
Remember, saying bad things about the administration might be enough to get you classified as an enemy combatant, effectively stripping you of citizenship.
I don't think they even have life vests anymore. I'm surprised they don't charge for oxygen.
Ah, high fevers and the wierd obsessions they produce: I developed pneumonia in the last two weeks before the 2004 Presidential election. If you've ever had pneumonia, you know that the worst symptom is that you are exhausted but can't sleep because you start coughing. I lay in a stupor on the sofa, staring at the TV which showed pretty much nothing but election coverage spaced with candidate ads. I remember when I finally got enough codeine in my system to fall asleep, having a nightmare involving John Kerry, George Bush, and the local candidate for state rep appearing on Emeril for a contest to determine who got to hold office. It's not quite as good as hallucinating about the TSA, but hey, it's the best I can manage.
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