Jazz and Poultry


Sunday, January 10, 2010
All the money in the world for national security...

...but a public option is out of the question.  Where are our priorities.  The chances that any of us will die in a terrorist attack is thousands of times more remote than needing chemo therapy.  Yet we continue to shovel money into a security system that is dysfunctional at best. 

The latest over-reaction to the Nigerian terrorist attack has me very concerned.  The fact that we, as passengers will have to sit with hands in lap for the last hour of international flights — in effect infantilizing us – would be  laughable if it was not so infuriating.  A third grader could see through the flawed logic of this inane policy.

The fact that the would-be terrorist made it through several red flags — no luggage/one-way ticket/already on the watch list — leads me to believe that there is more here than meets the eye.  Is it possible that we are in a pre-totalitarianist state?  What disturbs me is the public willingness to accept these rules in the name of safety.  Time and again I have heard the phrase ‘It is a priviledge, not a right, to fly.’   It is a priviledge, in so much as it is a priviledge to buy a candy bar or a television set.  While we have the choice not to fly, there are many situations in which it is not practical to travel by any other method.  

We are sanguine about getting behind the wheel of a car, or being a passenger in that car.  How many of us take the bus or subway?   We trust that drivers and motor men will safely deliver us to our destination.  What if there was an attack on mass transit?  How many of us would accept a twenty-minute wait to enter the Times Square subway station?

Dehumanization is not the answer to attempted terror attacks.  By reacting hysterically we have given a gift to the terrorists.  In reality they do not have to blow up planes to realize their goal.  They have already bred fear and anxiety, and have contributed to the crippling of our economy.


Posted at 01:21 am by commish

 

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Born in a small coal mining town, I combine the ability to play I Got Rhythm in all 11 and a half keys with my love of washing machines to form a perspective so skewed that my wife insists on seperate seatings at dinner.



   





 
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