New American Mantra: Don’t Touch My Junk
There are too many news articles, analyses, and opinion pieces about the TSA’s new full-body scanners and, shall we say, enhanced pat-down techniques for me to even begin to sample here. But I will link to one that might or might not be representative of the general mood out there. I link because it contains the best line I’ve yet read on the topic. Via Glenn Reynolds, I give you Dr. Charles Krauthammer, writing in today’s Washington Post:
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?
I don’t think anyone has ever thought of Krauthammer as being a humorist, and I’m sure he doesn’t consider himself one. But that last sentence was worthy of P.J. O’Rourke or Dave Barry. Well done, Doctor.