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And if you didn’t take a weapon on board, relax. After you’ve been flying for about an hour, they’re go

Shit, there are a lot of things you could use to kill a guy with. You could probably beat a guy to death with the Sunday New York Times. Or suppose you just had really big hands, couldn’t you strangle a flight attendant? Shit, you could probably strangle two of them, one with each hand. That is, if you were lucky enough to catch ’em in that little kitchen area. Just before they break out the fuckin’ peanuts. But you could get the job done. If you really cared enough.

So, why is it they allow a man with big, powerful hands to get on board an airplane? I’ll tell you why. They know he’s not a security risk, because he’s already answered the three big questions. Question number one:

“Did you pack your bags yourself?”

“No, Carrot Top packed my bags. He and Martha Stewart and Florence Henderson came over to the house last night, fixed me a lovely lobster Newburg, gave me a full body massage with sacred oils from India, performed a four-way ‘around-the-world,’ and then they packed my bags. Next question.”

“Have your bags been in your possession the whole time?”

“No. Usually the night before I travel—just as the moon is rising—I place my suitcases out on the street corner and leave them there, unattended, for several hours. Just for good luck. Next question.”

“Has any unknown person asked you to take anything on board?”

“Well, what exactly is an ‘unknown person’? Surely everyone is known to someone. In fact, just this morning, Kareem and Youssef Ali ben Gabba seemed to know each other quite well. They kept joking about which one of my suitcases was the heaviest.”

And that’s another thing they don’t like at the airport. Jokes. You can’t joke about a bomb. Well, why is it just jokes? What about a riddle? How about a limerick? How about a bomb anecdote? You know, no punch line, just a really cute story. Or, suppose you intended the remark not as a joke but as an ironic musing? Are they prepared to make that distinction? I think not! And besides, who’s to say what’s fu

Airport security is a stupid idea, it’s a waste of money, and it’s there for only one reason: to make white people feel safe! That’s all it’s for. To provide a feeling, an illusion, of safety in order to placate the middle class. Because the authorities know they can’t make airplanes safe; too many people have access. You’ll notice the drug smugglers don’t seem to have a lot of trouble getting their little packages on board, do they? No. And God bless them, too.

And by the way, an airplane flight shouldn’t be completely safe. You need a little danger in your life. Take a fuckin’ chance, will ya? What are you go

Besides, even if they made all of the airplanes completely safe, the terrorists would simply start bombing other places that are crowded: pornshops, crack houses, titty bars, and gang bangs. You know, entertainment venues. The odds of you being killed by a terrorist are practically zero. So I say, relax and enjoy the show.

You have to be realistic about terrorism. Certain groups of people—Muslim fundamentalists, Christian fundamentalists, Jewish fundamentalists, and just plain guys from Montana—are going to continue to make life in this country very interesting for a long, long time. That’s the reality. Angry men in combat fatigues talkin’ to God on a two-way radio and muttering incoherent slogans about freedom are eventually go

Especially after your stupid fuckin’ economy collapses all around you, and the terrorists come out of the woodwork. And you’ll have anthrax in the water supply and sarin gas in the air conditioners; there’ll be chemical and biological suitcase-bombs in every city, and I say, “Relax. Enjoy the show! Take a fuckin’ chance. Put a little fun in your life.”

To me, terrorism is exciting. I think the very idea that you can set off a bomb in Macy’s and kill several hundred people is exciting and stimulating, and I see it as a form of entertainment.