Taunts, Not Truffles, for Airport Pigs

"Oink, oink, oink!" writes one airport pig. "Molester, pervert, disgusting, an embarrassment, creep. These are all words I have heard today at work describing me, said in my presence as I patted passengers down. These comments are painful and demoralizing."

And all true. Maybe you don't lie and really don't get a kick out of groping people, but you do the dirty security theater work of the fascist state.

"One day is bad enough, but I have to come back tomorrow, the next day and the day after that to keep hearing these comments."

No, you don't have to. You can quit and get a real, productive job instead of working for the man. Or you can starve to death, which is still more moral than aggressing against disarmed victims, exploiting their fundie fear of having their "private parts" touched to force them into a machine that gives them skin cancer.

"If something doesn't change in the next two weeks I don't know how much longer I can withstand this taunting. I go home and I cry."

Why just cry? Suicide is a good option for pigs like you.

"If the tax-gatherer, or any other public officer, asks me, as one has done, 'But what shall I do?' my answer is, 'If you really wish to do anything, resign your office.' "

— Henry David Thoreau, "Civil Disobedience."

Plus ça change, plus c'est pareil.