Krauthammer: 'Don't Touch My Junk'

In his column today, Charles Krauthammer discusses what has been gripping, literally, the nation this past week - being groped by airport security.

He notes that John "Don't touch my junk" Tyner has become an American folk hero.

John Tyner, cleverly armed with an iPhone to give YouTube immortality to the encounter, took exception to the TSA guard about to give him the benefit of Homeland Security's newest brainstorm - the upgraded, full-palm, up the groin, all-body pat-down. In a stroke, the young man ascended to myth, or at least the next edition of Bartlett's, warning the agent not to "touch my junk."

Not quite the 18th-century elegance of "Don't Tread on Me," but the age of Twitter has a different cadence from the age of the musket. What the modern battle cry lacks in archaic charm, it makes up for in full-body syllabic punch.

Don't touch my junk is the anthem of the modern man, the Tea Party patriot, the late-life libertarian, the midterm election voter. Don't touch my junk, Obamacare - get out of my doctor's examining room, I'm wearing a paper-thin gown slit down the back. Don't touch my junk, Google - Street View is cool, but get off my street. Don't touch my junk, you airport security goon - my package belongs to no one but me, and do you really think I'm a Nigerian nut job preparing for my 72-virgin orgy by blowing my johnson to kingdom come?

Yikes! "My junk." "My package." "My johnson."

This isn't your typical Krauthammer column, but we are in new airport security territory here, a frontier where no gloved hand has gone before.

Krauthammer explains how idiotic the U.S. government's approach to airport security is.

We pretend that we go through this nonsense as a small price paid to ensure the safety of air travel. Rubbish. This has nothing to do with safety - 95 percent of these inspections, searches, shoe removals and pat-downs are ridiculously unnecessary. The only reason we continue to do this is that people are too cowed to even question the absurd taboo against profiling - when the profile of the airline attacker is narrow, concrete, uniquely definable and universally known. So instead of seeking out terrorists, we seek out tubes of gel in stroller pouches.

The junk man's revolt marks the point at which a docile public declares that it will tolerate only so much idiocy. Metal detector? Back-of-the-hand pat? Okay. We will swallow hard and pretend airline attackers are randomly distributed in the population.

But now you insist on a full-body scan, a fairly accurate representation of my naked image to be viewed by a total stranger? Or alternatively, the full-body pat-down, which, as the junk man correctly noted, would be sexual assault if performed by anyone else?

This time you have gone too far, Big Bro'. The sleeping giant awakes. Take my shoes, remove my belt, waste my time and try my patience. But don't touch my junk.

He's right.

Big Bro' went too far and the public is rebelling. That's as it should be.

STOP THE INSANITY NOW.

DON'T TOUCH MY JUNK.

It's ridiculous to subject everyone to a full-body scan or a full-body pat-down/ sexual assault.

We should adopt the Israelis' system.

[I]n America the focus is on finding an explosive device. In Israel, the focus is on finding the person carrying the explosive device.

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Read "The Audacity of Grope."