the government has, once again, dropped the ball…
…it’s been all over the news.
they let a terrorist on a plane. again. what were they thinking? he’s got beady little eyes, wears his hat cocked sideways like many a gun-toting gangsta, has been trained in numerous fighting styles (and has the trophies to show for his killer skills and instincts and other accolades of his violent tendencies) and even slaps on a militaristic uniform to go meet with others in his organization to discuss their future plans. they salute each other. they salute their OWN flag. and even though he’s on the TSA’s watch list, they keep letting him on the plane. his picture has been all over the internet and the new york times, so i figure i’d put it up here so you can keep an eye out…
oh yeah, and he’s eight years old. what’s with these kids today? wearing their hats all sideways, their pants hanging off their ass, wanting to blow up planes and shit?
the old scout motto: be prepared
the NEW scout motto: be prepared to kill the infidels!!!
it turns out this kid has the same name as somebody who’s ON the “no fly list”. or so the government claims. here’s the hole in the story – he’s a junior. his dad has the same name, and has NO issues. mean while, the kid goes through it EVERY time. he can’t do boarding passes online or at a kiosk. he can’t just breeze through (his dad can do all of the above, even though he has the same name and “mikey, the infidel” was only a month or so old when the planes hit the towers on 9/11/01) and they even frisk the kid.
what the fuck?
i understand when he’s just a name on a screen – but to look at an eight year old and feel compelled to pat him down to his (unarmed) transformer underoos? i don’t need my skies THAT friendly – at least not toward children.
so, if anyone of power is reading this – let’s, for the sake of his therapy bills later in life, take the lil’ guy off the list. if he DOES blow something up between now and say, when he’s twelve, i’ll pay for it. send me the bill…
…but once he gets to junior high and shit, he’s on his own.
hey, you gotta know when to let go.