So some guy in California pulled a temper tantrum, refusing to get imaged and then refusing to accept a crotch pat down. Don't mess with my freedom and don't touch my junk, dude.
Here's the thing, you want to fly, you play by the rules. You don't like rules, grow wings or take a car. I got no patience for adult cry babies. I can remember 911, I know how it happened, and one of those was enough. Al Qaeda notices stuff, and then next week you get the crotch bomber. Great.
We live in a world without absolutes. You want freedom, fine, but there is also something called safety. I don't want all safety, zero freedom. I don't want all freedom, zero safety. It would be nice if we could be grownups for one day, sorry that it is so much to ask. I wish our little brains were capable of containing two ideas for one second without one of the ideas pushing the other one out.
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