Day: November 24, 2010
Ok, this is both hysterical and illustrative of why I dislike the TSA security protocols. I don’t personally care if they see or touch my junk. I would happily strip naked and walk through the scanner if it just meant getting through the line faster.
I dislike the TSA security protocols because they don’t actually work. There’s a reason the term “security theatre” was coined, and why it’s appropriate here.
Adam Savage: TSA saw my junk, missed 12″ razor blades
The TSA isn’t the most respected of governmental agencies right now, but at least it comes by the poor reputation honestly. The lack of standards, inconsistent application of searches and policies, and occasional rude agent all combine to make flying an unpleasant experience. It’s often derided as “security theater,” which describes the experience of Mythbuster Adam Savage before a recent flight.
Savage was put through the full-body scanner, and while he joked that it made his penis feel small, no one seemed to notice the items he was carrying on his person. The video tells the rest of the story.
If we try to engineer perfect children, will they grow up to be unbearable? – By Katie Roiphe – Slat
Not being a parent myself, I have no personal insights to add here, but have long wondered at the incredible amount of structure most kids seem to grow up in these days, compared to when I was growing up.
If we try to engineer perfect children, will they grow up to be unbearable? – By Katie Roiphe – Slate Magazine
Can we, for a moment, flash back to the benign neglect of the 1970s and ’80s? I can remember my parents having parties, wild children running around until dark, catching fireflies. If these children helped themselves to three slices of cake, or ingested the second-hand smoke from cigarettes, or carried cocktails to adults who were ever so slightly slurring their words, they were not noticed; they were loved, just not monitored. And, as I remember it, those warm summer nights of not being focused on were liberating. In the long sticky hours of boredom, in the lonely, unsupervised, unstructured time, something blooms; it was in those margins that we became ourselves