The new TSA screening practices outrage me. I'm not sure why I'm wasting my time on it since I don't have the money to fly anywhere anyway. But if we let the government do virtual strip searches and touch the breasts and genitals of everyone who wants to get on an airplane, what else are we going to let them get away with?
Here's a collection of first-hand accounts about the new TSA procedures.
This is
a story about a bladder cancer survivor. The TSA agents broke the seal on his urostomy bag which caused urine to leak all over him. He was forced to walk through the airport and board his plane soaked in urine.
A flight attendant who's also a breast cancer survivor was forced to remove her prosthetic breast.
Other stories of breast cancer survivors being humiliated.
And this is about a rape survivor who felt like she was being raped all over again. She was patted down by a male agent.
From
a TPM reader:
I am made to strip off a very light-weight jacket, so that I am standing there in a skimpy shell, not how I prefer to appear in public. The TSA agent proceeds to run her hands through my chin length hair and pat the top of my head (WTF?). then she rubs her hands all over my torso, before informing me that now she is going to insert her hands between my breasts. Next she says, "Lift your shirt." Huh??? Turns out she wants to knead my elastic waistband thoroughly -- not sure what explosives I might be hiding in an elastic waistband, but, boy, she is doing a thorough job of kneading my midriff. I offer to pull down my pants for her, and start to do so, because I am getting really pissed off by now. She keeps offering to take me to a private location, but I am thinking, first, I do not want to be anywhere in private with her, and second, it is her groping I object to, and not anything that any other passenger might be seeing -- in fact, I want people to see what is going on.
Her next order is to spread my legs as far as I can. Yep, that's what she said. She then gropes my legs, and kneads my butt so firmly that I have to move my feet to keep my balance ...
My crime? I have a hip replacement ...
What I experienced at Reagan National on Friday was humiliating and infuriating beyond anything I thought would happen, and I am still steamed days later.
From
Jeffrey Goldberg of The Atlantic - his conversation with a TSA agent:
"Yes, but starting tomorrow, we're going to start searching your crotchal area" -- this is the word he used, "crotchal" -- and you're not going to like it.""What am I not going to like?" I asked."We have to search up your thighs and between your legs until we meet resistance," he explained."Resistance?" I asked. "Your testicles," he explained.'That's funny," I said, "because 'The Resistance' is the actual name I've given to my testicles."From
another TPM reader:
I'll take planes for cross-continent or overseas travel, but it's gotten to the point that the TSA checkpoints cause more anxiety than the flight does to the point that I'd rather drive six hours than take a one hour flight. Because they're arbitrary, capricious, poorly trained, sometimes corrupt, and have attitudes that make the bouncers at your average strip club or dance club seem like milquetoasts. Put the rules in writing. Stick to them. Fire, and if necessary, prosecute those TSA agents who don't stick to them. Have some degree of transparency. If it requires paying to hire people with brains, then pay for it. Realize that inconveniencing people for security is ok. Subjecting them to literal terror is not. And keep things in perspective. 2800 people died on September 11. Of course it was terrifying and horrible and tragic, but also remember that 42,000 people died in highway accidents in the US the same year....
Lots more stories here.