January 7, 2010

The sewer that this country is becoming..

(Note that this is not going to be one of those friendly, happy posts. I have just hit one of those speed bumps that society puts in ordinary, decent peoples' paths and, I mean no disrespect by using a pic from the 1930s classic movie, Gunga Din. I am just in a really bad mood.)
Post holidays, we put our young Marine son on a 3 January 2010 return flight so he could resume his "Lens Licker" class (He has a 2171 MOS -- maintaining and repairing night vision and LAV electronic targeting systems) at the Aberdeen Proving Grounds in Maryland. It was up at Los Angeles International -- LAX is the ICAO. As a sidebar, it will always be called Los Angeles International because if they changed the name, everyone would refer its FAA ICAO as "EX-LAX" and that just would not do.

Anyway, I digress.

We got there at 2030 for a 2130 flight and -- after negotiating a small crowd of orbiters on the departure level, we found a place to park and walked over to the Untied Airlines terminal so he could check in and board the plane. After dealing with the unfriendly, sullen ticket attendants (no "thank you for your service to our contry" here; all biz) who seized his duffel and cast it onto the conveyor, into the baggage maw, and hopefully into the cargo bay of his aircraft, we headed out to the departure gate hoping to sit with him for the last few minutes he'd have in Southern California until this next April.

It was there we hit the line of prospective passengers queuing up to be poked and prodded by the TSA wage slave proles. and, of course, it hit us all simultaneously: only passengers beyond this point, the rest of you can just piss off. So, with a full hour of lonely waiting ahead of him, our PFC bade us as much of a fond goodbye as could be managed by a Marine with hundreds of passengers looking on.

We hugged and his mom and he kissed and he wandered through the gate and disappeared from us for at least three months.

As my bride and I wended our way back to the car, I became increasingly annoyed at how crappy air travel had really become. Sure, I was bummed because I was missing my youngest son. But there was a little more that wrankled me. Somewhere a few miles South of the conjunction of the 710 Freeway, it hit me: Once again good, honest, decent people of this world suffer because of a few assholes.

Camel riding, sheep buggering, rag head assholes, to be exact.

Yeah, I know it's insensitive and and definitely not PC, but -- you know what? I don't give a flying crap. Now, my vitriol (and the previous terms of endearment) do not apply to Muslims who disavow the terrorists in their midst nor to the faithful Muslims who are citizens of this country or otherwise conduct decent, ordinary lives and aren't all wrapped up in this Jihad to translate every infidel into either a brother or sister Muslim convert or decaying flesh.

Just those who think it's the bee's knees stuffing C-4 into their depends and setting it alight when the aircraft is on short final.

These are the ones to whom those slanderous epithets are aimed.

Offend your sensibilities? Well that is just too goddam bad! You have turned air travel and other aspects of our lives into the dismal experience it's become. Our airport waiting /boarding areas now resemble scenes from the old remake of Orwell's 1984. The dreary, gloomy lines in the dimly lit dank halls when a few years ago, the departing passengers and friends and relatives shared some last few earthbound moments together in bright, well-lit, well appointed areas.

Don't think me naive and an infrequent air traveler, but I guess I am like the frog who is sitting in the pan of water and finally -- finally -- realizes that the water has gotten too hot for my comfort. This situation has just gone a little past my tolerance of the bravo sierra we have to put up with at the hands of Usama Bin Laden's minions.

Oh, and while I am at it, a little bit of this grief -- not gratuitously -- should be directed towards Napalitano and her clueless boss. And while we're at it, why not the $12-per-hour cretins who will be manning the inspection devices, ogling our x-rayed personages, and refusing to profile the aforesaid camel-jockeys in order to perpetrate cavity searches on old Swedish grandmothers?

Yeah, this goes out to the whole diversity-riddled, ultra-sensitive, PC crowd who refuse to look at reality and think that their skittle-crapping Unicorn infested world will eventuate if we only play nice with the AQ crowd and prostrate ourselves in front of sheiks and potentates and dictators whose main thrill in life is funding or implementing the means of bringing down the U. S. of A. Yeah, not too charitable today and these ass-clowns are the main reason why.

Oh, and if you don't care for the insensitive, non-PC language, then the forward/backward buttons are up there on your browser's menu. I recommend you use them.


  1. First, let me thank your son for his service to our country. Second, let me thank you for raising your son to be a patriot and for your sacrifice while he is away on duty.
    As for your rant, all I can say is DITTO!

  2. I appreciate your sentiments and tolerance. My words are repugnant and distasteful and I do NOT mean them as a slur to and good people of the Muslim faith. But -- like so many of us nowadays -- I grow weary of having to mince through a dialog, carefully choosing the proper and correct terms to describe our enemies because feelings might be hurt.

    These desert-dwelling ass clowns have earned our enmity and, when we are fortunate to throw over this eunuch that dwells in the White House and all of his nutless associates in his administration and get someone in there with a pair, then these people will know what it means to cower in fear of retribution because they perpetrate acts on our people and property.

    ..as you can see, dear lady, my anger has not abated. I continue to offer you apologies and thank you for following my worthless efforts.

  3. From one vet to another, I'm proud to have your son as a member of our brotherhood.

    And you know me, Boss; I never hold back on my rants! Sometimes, your spleen needs to be vented in order to properly convey what's wrong in the world.