It’s been so long, I barely remember how to TG. I’ve been busy in my jet-set life; I’m now in Sun Valley surrounded by my fellow media moguls. Lachlan Murdoch and Bret Baier are leading a knitting circle. I have TGIF’ed my way directly into the heart of American power and the rosé is divine—but how are YOU? Studio apartment hunt going okay? Anyway, after this I’m going out to shoot endangered bunnies.
This week, deserving but not receiving bylines, are Will Rahn and Sean Fischer.
→ TSA and America’s shoes: There’s plenty of news from the week but none reaches this development in significance. Because this week, the Department of Homeland Security announced that Americans can once again go through TSA airport checkpoints with their shoes on. For us busy moms without TSA PreCheck: This is our V-E Day.
TSA is security Kabuki. It’s fake. It’s performance art. They were once found to have a 95 percent failure rate in catching dangerous items and other contraband. Those scanning machines, the water bottle rules, the X-rays, the little bottles of lotion, it’s all a charade to make us feel like that’s the security system. Like, do they really think I can fit a bomb into my Tevas? What exactly is the risk posed by my full Poland Spring water bottle, besides the microplastics it’s probably introduced to my bloodstream? I guess for someone having a schizophrenic break, trying to get through with a machete, the machines work. Maybe. The actual security system is that someone plugs your name, and now your face, into the dragnet system that knows every single thing about you and probably listened to your Alexa that morning. Anyway, my days of flopping my bare, wide, flat feet onto Newark’s polished concrete are over. We’re finally free. And all it took was the last shreds of our privacy to get there.
