My Date with the TSA.

My 1-30-12 interview on "Declare Your Independence" with Ernest Hancock


When talking about my date with the TSA, I use to kept most of the details to myself. The fact that so many people don’t defy the TSA, saying “No” already comes off as a fish story. When my letter of investigation came in the mail it brought so much of what I’ve been saying to reality for so many around me. I couldn’t have anticipated how much I would like to thank the TSA for proving what kind of country we live in to my loved ones.

On a hot Sunday in Phoenix I was headed to the airport to board a flight joking about being on a no fly list and looking forward to talking smack about the TSA with other people at the airport. Everything was normal in getting my boarding pass and such up until I got to the check point. I never enter a check point without scouting the operation. In this case the metal detectors were roped off and everybody was being x-rayed with some still getting patted down afterwards. This was the point that I became very embarrassed seeing my people march along and groveling, being barked at, and not a one opted out of the x-ray scanner in the 5 minutes I watched. Instead of turning tail and calling my wife I jumped into the lions mouth to pull some teeth.

Like a good little slave I kept my mouth shut, took my shoes off, belt, and keep my head down when being barked at. As I got up to the scanner I sternly said I won’t be entering that machine. The blue shirt then got excited, didn’t question me, and screamed out “MALE OPT OUT, MALE OPT OUT!”. Two more blue shirts hurried over and escorted me to a side cubical where I met Mr. Patdown. Now I’m not a homophobe, but this guy likes his job, and it wasn’t just the glazed eyes of the guy telling me this. I asked myself, “how easy are they going to make this for me to say No?”.

So Mr. Patdown proceeded to explain the procedure and I was fine up until he explained the part about pressing with the back of his hands onto my junk. Genius! Now why didn’t I think of that with my 1st girlfriend. I shook my head “No” but the blue shirt continued to mumble about touching my buttocks and going inside my beltline till I verbally said it wasn’t going to happen.

He then flagged a supervisor and this guy didn’t walk, he stormed my way with an accompanying blue shirt. As he got closer his eyes exited his head more and more and then barked, “What’s the problem we have here?”. With my arms crossed I stated his screener here wants to break the law. The eyes quickly reentered his head and he then introduced himself as Seth, and BSed me about how it’s perfectly legal yadda yadda yadda. I then cocked my head and noticed this guy was no older then 28-30 and was wearing a carpal tunnel band. From there we had a back and forth, but I was more concerned with how the check point was becoming populated with blueshirts. One in particular caught my eye because he didn’t have a goonish look to him and was approaching us. He was clean cut, with a huge smile, and peaking out at barley 5 foot tall. Amongst the fray a blueshirt grabbed my wallet out of the tupperware and walked away. I wish I said something at that point but I was fired up and on a roll. About 5 minutes later he comes back with my wallet, a scan of my driver’s license and demands a phone number. “If you can’t get enough information off my license you need to find a new line of work”, I said. He then peered back at me, “You’re setting yourself up for a fine, give me a current phone number”. “I’m not giving a criminal anything and I haven’t done anything wrong”. I forget what he mumbled as he got up and left, but all I can remember is he was cross eyed.

Things got eerie as I will now discover how freaky this operation was. Short stuff was the mind probe shrinky dude and you could see in his eyes he loved his job. Mr. Headly opened up the dialogue with his arms behind his back and rocking back and forth, “How’s everything going today?”. I replied, “You’re going to ask that in this gulag training ground?”. His reply was packaged BS about keeping people safe and policy and as he noticed I wasn’t paying attention to his bull he then asked “Where was I flying to?”, “My boarding pass will tell you that!”. Cocking his head he asked, “What are you worried about?”. “I’m not worried, here you got a cancer cluster waiting to happen, why aren’t you worried?”. As he BSed me, I continually barked out the reality of this situation with facts loud enough so the passing slaves could hear me.

Later a clean cut man in a brown dress shirt with a smile strolled over to me and extended his hand out to shake my hand. I was burning with life at this point holding myself down with crossed arms. As he got to me he extends his hand out and very professionally with a smile, “Hi, I’m Frank Martinez TSA Manager blah blah blah”. As I just stand there he pulls his hand back, “Well you don’t have to shake my hand”, I replied, “You got that right”. Now this guy was pretty lame dealing with someone who wasn’t playing ball as he repeated much of the same line of questioning, “…are you sure you won’t go thru the pat down…”,”…you know you may not be able to fly today…”. After a couple I said, “give it a rest, save your breath and do what you have to”. From here out Frank was on his cell looking important and about this time Mr Headly returned to his hole.

After a couple minutes an officer of the PHXPD approached me and began to instruct me that if I’m not allowed to fly he would be escorting me away from the check point and we exchanged a few words. As soon as I asked, “what do you think about all of this prisoner training?”. He became very uncomfortable and said, “They are just doing their job”, I interject, “that didn’t save anyone in Nuremberg”, “this is to keep people safe but I understand, you’re not the only one”. Wow, that one single statement from an uncomfortable cop fulfilled my day. I’m not the only one.

During this exchange Seth slipped in the cubical and listened to much of it. When the officer walked away Seth noticed an x-box in my bag and giggly asked, “What games do you play?”. I was dumbfounded, and knowing I’m talking to a game head I said, “I don’t, I watch Netflix”. Oh he knew all about that as well but this young guy who stands out on this floor all day, not behind a computer, has a carpal tunnel band from playing video games. AND HES THE SUPERVISOR! After getting over my amazement of the epiphany I continued to grill Seth on the reality of his job. Getting miffed and realizing I was a real person he quickly exited when he didn’t have an reply for when I told him, “you know a well trained dog and biscuit will put you out of work and the best part there isn’t a pension plan at the end”. This experience ended with the PHXPD peacefully escorting me away from the check point, and my wife coming to pick me up.

About four months later I received a certified letter from the TSA stating that my incident was under investigation. It sighted that I violated a regulation that made me subject of up to a $11,000 fine, and I needed to turn in a letter of my accounts of that day. The next Monday I met with Mark Victor. He was as amazed with the situation as many others were. He did give me some valuable pointers and stressed that I should ask for an extension on my deadline to turn my letter into the TSA.

Well, at this point I am going to milk this for everything its worth. Instead of contacting the guy who signed my letter, Brad Foster, I was going to research for the highest ranking person in his office and call them. The number I found and left a message at, was a Heather Callahan, Deputy Federal Security Director ( 480-375-2560 Office | 617-285-7614 Mobile), thanks to someone else who had an date with the TSA at Sky Harbor. About 7:15 pm that night I get a frantic call from Brad Foster (Home number: 602-908-8205). He didn’t know what this was about, and from there I spoke calmly, talking him off the ledge. I stated I wanted the code expressed on my notice on paper and an extension on my deadline. The next day he granted me 10 additional days.


So being the aggressive animal they already view me as I decided I wasn’t going to wait for an email, I was going to show up to the office on 410 N. 44th Street, Suite 300. This building was off the street and not easy to find with no markings dictating what was inside. My clue was the 20 or so blue shirts out on a smoke break. As I drove by flashing my Ron Paul wares it looked as if everyone of them turned their heads. A minute later I confidently walked up and most of them were acting as if I was going to jack them or something. From there I went up the elevator and entered the 3rd floor and noticed this was also the training location for the new goons. I thought, man this might be a fun place to do some interesting activism. As I opened the door to the lobby even the receptionist, who takes her beauty tips from Big Sis, had a horrified look in her eyes. Christ, what are these people afraid of? I introduced myself and stated what I was there for. About 15 minutes later in came Brad Foster with this 6’3” 300+lb goon standing behind him. Brad handed me the paper with my requests and described that no person is able to enter a sterile area without being screened. I said, “But the screening evolved touching my genitals”, he embarrassingly replied, “Some people makeup things about our…”, I then interrupted, “No, your screener stated he would be touching my growing and going into my belt line”. He paused and then said, “Well we aren’t actually touching the genitals and…”, “But you are, and is illegal to do outside of an emergency” as I butted into his BS. The part that ground me the most in this exchange was that I actually shook the guys hand, man I suck sometimes, but I did peacefully leave the building.

I returned to submit my letter without incident. A little less the month later I received my another letter from the TSA stating that they would not press the issue but would not adjourn the case. Finally stating that this was a warning and if something similar happens again that very serious sanctions would be brought onto me. Well, after the stern wag of the finger here I am writing about it for the world to see. I swore off flying about 2 years before this event because of the TSA, but the tickets were purchased by my company for some training. The buck needs to stop somewhere and I believe will be saying “No” to this very same agency in the future when they show up on my highways and malls.

Money!

So im having a conversation on a political forum about Ron Paul that has led to the subject of money and expecting the typical go around. This was the 1st time i really put together all my ideas concerning solutions floating around in my head, and would like to bounce this off of people that i feel may be more coherent then this individual im talking to.

We will start with his quote....

"Well, since you brought up monetary policy, we can go there if you'd like. I'm sure you're pro gold-standard/commodity based money. Ron Paul's ideas here are about as wrong as one could possibly be. So if you'd like, the floor is yours"

My reply….

Youre right i am pro commodity based money, im also, like Paul, pro competing currencies but some may believe im more radical then Paul. Money is likely the most creative and marketable commodity. I have yet to see a sound argument against a diversity of currencies that can compete on the open market. In the past ive been declared wrong and loose out to the religion of central planning regardless of history. Lets see if this will be different.

On the national level a fiat is the only solution i can buy into. Thats not to say that congress couldnt have a multitude of currencies to fund the government. Commodity based currencies would market very well if the fiat falters or hits a down turn. The national fiat would be the common currency as it would be the most abundant due to the demand of the global market. The facts of the vulnerabilityof fiat to the political elements will always only be as marketable as its reach with the legitimacy based in its quantity can not be argued away.

States could develop their own currencies that would be commodity based (Article I, Section 10). Because this money would be backed its wouldnt likely be for everyday use at your local 7eleven. Like other commodities it would be used as a hedge (see my final paragragh), retirement portfolios, or for trade of larger tickets by the man on the street.

As credit of the state is inexorably pegged to its marketability and its ability to produce capitol. States that take on the creative endeavor in producing a currency will likely charter a state bank to fund public works projects and supply business loans as the fiduciary. These payment models would involve its currency being used as payment somewhat like we see in the oil market with dollars due to the bill of credit restrictions in the constitution (Article I, Section 10).The use of the currency will promote the credit of the state and promote economic growth based on a commodity.

I also wouldn’t be opposed to community money and the expansion of micro economies (ie: Dave & Busters). If a rural secluded town wants to avoid the typical impoverishment by Wal-Mart model, they may want to try and develop their own currency. On the micro economy front, Public/state schools may want to create incentives to draw in more capitol to keep the lights on and keep student costs down. Just some ideas to demonstrate the arguments of competing currencies.


I am personally benefiting from an alternative physical currency that is just emerging. They have been nicknamed "shinys" here in AZ but most people know them as dime cards. Also we arent just trading in dime cards (junk silver) we are using all silver for all kinds of transactions. We calculate the worth with apps and web sites like the silver calculators and coinflation.com. Some farmers markets are selling veggies at an incredible rate, 20 cent a gallon for a station in Orgeon, ammo is 20 to 40% off at some tables at gun shows, basic sales are bringing in bargin prices on just about anything you can think of, because an investment in a commodity is evolved in the trade. I say we because its not just me with some liberty minded people in AZ, its happening in a number of areas around the nation (ie: NH, MT, ID, UT).

All American Chump.

So there you are sitting on your lawn chair in the grass watching your kid play soccer getting an allergic reaction from the fertilizer. It doesn’t matter much because they aren’t keeping score and everyone is special. So precious, and that’s why you will take the little tike to McDonalds for beef glue and preservative coated potatoes. The drive thru girl forgot your straws and shorted your change but you wouldn’t want to make a scene.

On the way to run errands the kids chuck their trash all over the floor but its ok because you would have to pay someone to take your crappy Dodge Neon. Now you’re afraid to tell them they are going to Costco. When you get there the kids bitch and on your way to the free tastings to appease the brats you nod or say sorry every time you make eye contact. At the tastings you’re afraid to take more than one sample to not get a sneer from another customer even though little Timmy is says he’s hungry. While mumbling about the McPoison he didn’t eat, with bug eyes on the way out you chant to yourself with a smile, “must look normal, must look normal”.

Ahhh, finally back home, you waddle to the couch with your jumbo bag of Doritos and turn TMZ on for the news that matters. You know life without trends is a life you wouldn’t want to live, a life better left to people in squallier. That is of course if dirty and trashy is trendy, then your all for it, and breaking out the pocket book for a mindless rag with the latest spring colors and 69 sex tips to please your man. This newest fad is a fantastic diddy where you chop off your own arms,…. Im not kidding,…. Where you chop your own arms and legs off and your lover carries you around in a box.

You always dreamed of being middle class with a white picket fence and in this system all you gotta do is sign the right papers. Buy a car, house, motorcycle and that Amish roll around fireplace under the pile of unread mail. Meanwhile there are loads of nonpaying jobs and creative projects that would be much more rewarding to your life and society as a whole, but you financed your ugly lazyboy to watch hours of nonsense everyday for a cash advance on your time at a soul sucking job.

You, in ancient Rome would make fun of the dude who sold himself into slavery to avoid taxation. You believed you had that wiping coming for disrespecting the Lord for falling asleep in the Catholic Church. You were that person pointing and laughing at the dude using his drinking water to wash himself during the plague. And how do I know this? I know this because you’re the person who laughs at people living in reality. The guy stocking up on guns and ammo is paranoid, the guy with storable food is a a nut in magic underwear, the guy with a garden is a fruit cake, the guy talking about issues is a dork and when he mentions the private Federal Reserve or puppet regimes your preprogramming tells you he has been hanging around the gun nut too long.

Today the standard American chump thinks themselves into peace, more or less images that there isn’t anything wrong, believe the world is wholesome, and because the fairly land lives in the mind it’s just that way. Well until the local football team loses. There isn’t anything wrong with the giant sucking sound we will all get rich flipping burgers. Our elected public servants care about us and that’s what the black ski masks and machineguns for the local police are for. War makes for great movies and you don’t mind new wars and expanded wars for corporate resources so as long as a black man says it’s ok. Then if youre one of those people that don’t like that black man youre likely looking to vote for a beauty pageant bimbo who will do the same.

The 1st shots of the 2nd American revolution we fired by the global elite against free humanity. So here we are in the time where free sentient sovereign human beings stand to fight for the way things are suppose to be. We the people will decide our fate. We have broken the echo chamber and will renounce the precedent that bureaucrats decide and nothing earth moving is going to be debated in public. For those of you still cowering, still spinelessly laughing reality away, still a marshmallow in front of the glow box, this is your last call, and don’t get in the way.

While you were watching TV.

That’s right, the Cowboys suck and the bachelorette is a slut. While you pinned the fate of your day, week; year on the success of a sports team, they raised the retirement age till after your dead. In all seriousness there are very real organizations that have been rapidly moving to bleed you dry, many of them moving to control every step of your life, as well as evil bastards that want you dead to claim the earth for themselves.

Its all very funny, its funny people care about things, because we all know that you gotta be a dumbass to have dumbass friends. Meanwhile the invisible no name depressed recession is the bread lines of 44 million and counting running a plastic food stamp card. The fraudclosure of millions of homes is the symptom of the government deregulating the investment hellhounds out to vacuum up as much physical assets from the civilized world before the value of the paper money completely evaporates in an effort to cover the incalculable gambling debts. We got feel good radio ads urging the public to protect their money in the banks, and the major TV networks are going broke because if the people aren’t turning off the nightly lies they live in a tent under the overpass. So now the only programming the networks can afford to produce is a clown with some idiots screaming out NO DEAL!


You go on thinking all is hunky-dory, everything is fine and this is America. It’s impossible to be under attack because you can clear a beer bong and bench-press your weight. The lies of society only exist and hurt you if you believe them to be lies. Believe unemployment is under 10% even though over 42 thousand factories have been mothballed since 2001, you chant U-S-A into a giant hole in the ground, and in the land of the brave 2 out 5 people receive government assistance, and in the home of the free businesses have to compete with Asian slave labor and your pot head buddy in a private prison making worthless plastic widgets.


Oh yea; that’s right, the Yankees are the evil empire. The steel curtain is in Pittsburg, Google’s electronic spy grid is in your phone, everything going to the bankers is free market, and a surveillance society with the government’s hands down your pants is freedom, its wholesome, its for your safety, and if you say otherwise you need to shut up, and go away, stop being a buzz kill or we got a government hole for you, AMERICA! FUCK YEA!

Simon Cowell is a prick and you get your news from John Stewart. The 21st century liberal collectivist want to burn Americana and the modern totalitarian conservatives want to bury lady liberty with chains. Then the masters of the universe go have a martini together joking about how clever they are and how stupid you are. While history has shown that in an economic upturn 95% of the job creation is in small business the messiah himself, Barrak Barry Soetero Obama who the pundits say his brilliant acts adverted a melt down into a road warrior scenario; has in fact pushed into motion a permanent mechanism to fill a mathematical blackhole with your money and assets. Ok so we all now know he is a Wall Street front man but it’s A-OK in your book now because he got up in front of everyone devoid of all emotion to read you a scripted narrative about some bearded guy who has been dead for 9 years. He doesn’t have to squirm setting the lies strait like his press secretary, but you wouldn’t know any different because youre drooling over some porn.


So none of this really matters because you’re a tough guy, a tough guy watching and screaming for naked men busting 69’s in the octagon. Fluorinated tap water is for your teeth, Government spending is for public welfare, GMO foods are for high yields, X-ray scanners are for your safety, the military defends our freedoms, Aspartame is for diet drinks, the police serve and protect, and big pharma will help restless leg syndrome as long as you don’t mind spraying the toilet bowl.

Everything is A-OK, youre getting drunk and looking cool, worshipping Hollywood, lusting over its stars when you’re not lusting over a friend. All of this is someone else’s fight, someone else’s responsibility and Chuck Norris is a bad ass. So do what you do, you enjoy being a chump, now plop your worthless ass on the couch, turn the boob tube on, and go to sleep little tike, because the big boys got work to do.


For those of you not sleeping, I respectfully salute you, but please, do not sit and save the zombies.