by Cynthia McKinney on Saturday, July 9, 2011
One day, as usual, I was on my way to another destination that thrust me into the clutches of the Transportation Safety Administration, TSA. I surveyed the landscape and saw an array of the machines that made Michael Chertoff rich, but that could give you cancer. So, I braced myself for the physical assault that was going to take place because I never, never go through those machines. I always exercise my right to opt out. When I have extra time, I’ll even demand a private screening. On this particular leg of my journey, the young woman who gave me the private screening was vaguely familiar with Michael Chertoff; she listened attentively to my complaint about the machines and radiation, she vaguely remembered someone else coming through and saying the same thing. But then, she sad, but we have to stop “the enemy” from hurting us “again.” I said, “Aha, tell me, my child, who is ‘the enemy’ and what is this ‘again’ that you’re referring to.” Well, she couldn’t exactly tell me who the enemy was and so she, reaching for straws, just said, “the people who did 9/11.” So, I asked her who these dastardly people were who did 9/11–she didn’t exactly know. Therefore she didn’t know exactly who “the enemy” was, either. And they didn’t tell her that information. So, I told her to do some research on 9/11/01, think about what she just said about our country’s “enemies,” ponder about who that could possibly be, and seek to better inform herself before she repeats that indoctrination blather that she’s taught at TSA. She promised that she would. I gathered my things from my private screening room, warned her about being around those Chertoff machines, and left her. I felt good about that encounter because at the end, she thanked me.