Security: An Exercise in Futility

Au secours! When will I be secure? I am afraid to go out. I have nothing to hide and yet I find myself making a conscious effort at being myself. I wear no shoes, no belt, no watch, and carry no loose change. At times, I am even made to put my bow tie in the scanner. I would go naked but I’m afraid I would be asked to remove my stents?

Maybe I’m naïve or just plain stupid, but I refuse to accept this paranoid state of affairs as a permanent change. Why is diplomacy a bad word? Why is it wrong to debate, arbitrate and negotiate? Whatever happened to walking softly and carrying a big stick? America should never cower behind bollards and barricades. It’s not the right thing to do.

The war on terror is futile. In fact the term is an oxymoron. Although there is no comparison to the horror of 911, I recall that in my thesis year at Cooper Union I came into the classroom one morning to find all my work ripped to shreds and scattered on the floor. I picked up the pieces and continued to work in the open with no change to my routine. This anonymous act of jealousy I later found out came from a “clean-cut conservative” classmate who resented the attention my work was getting from the Dean.

There have been many such occurrences in my life including my time in the Navy. And in each case, I refused to withdraw into a bunker. It’s the right thing to do.