Blue gloves proceeded to pat, grope, and wand, each of us in our turn. Following this exercise in bureaucratic stupidity, we were all sent to a newly designated “holding” area (declared “sterile” by the Agent in Charge) at the gate where we were instructed to not leave our seats. We were sternly advised that we could only visit the bathroom facilities with permission and a TSA escort! Simultaneously, of course, our airplane was getting its own version of the blue glove and sniff treatment.

At the end of this Pynchonian charade, we were finally declared “safe” and cleared for departure. The USAir folks were beside themselves in apologizing for the “inconvenience” (but not for the indignity and idiocy, I noticed). They offered those who might have been terrified by the evening’s events free passage on a flight the following morning and free accommodations for the night. Our portly informant and her companion apparently chose to spend the night in Charlotte to celebrate a job well done. Our unfortunate Red Bull imbiber was freed to continue on his journey, but we were informed that he would be traveling by “another route” (Gulfstream to Cuba?) to allay all our fears. Upon take-off the pilot wryly noted that we must be on the safest plane in America in light of the multiple searches. The contaminated lavatory was locked throughout the flight, just in case.

Finally, at one in the morning of the next day, we landed amidst the violent pyrotechnics of an East Tennessee thunderstorm. Safe. Tired. Thankful. Perplexed by the sheer absurdity of the preceding events and the world as it has become.

What can one glean from all of this? I suppose, nothing that we don’t already know or suspect. The likelihood of a commuter plane on a Charlotte to Knoxville run being hijacked by anybody – much less terrorists, of course - is far less than the odds that we will be “left behind” in the near future by the Rapture or that the ruling junta in Washington will voluntarily leave office. 

Our once relatively free nation is disappearing inch by inch in front of our very eyes. Though the signs are visible to all of us, we continue to shuffle along in our “dead man walking “ mode – un-reacting, stuporous, resigned. Though one could rightly argue that it has always largely been an illusion for the common man, the fact remains that the image of America the Free – Defender of Liberty and Dispenser of Justice – is dissipating in the afternoon sun of her existence.

Slowly at first - now rapidly – we see a new and monstrous Amerika forming from the bones of the old. Like the coming of a Balrog from the depths of Tolkien’s Middle Earth, you can hear and feel the deep subterranean drum-drum-drumming as the dark form begins to lift itself out of the pit into full view. The societal change that is coming – the cultural cataclysm – is far along and will not be easily diverted down a more humanitarian path. In his recent book, Failed States, Noam Chomsky rightly points out that our land exhibits all of the signs of such a state – a loss of safety, of democracy, and of freedom. Perhaps, this is simply the inevitable end of every Empire. 

The loss of our liberties – our inability to learn from our past – our inability to plan for the future – our helplessness in the face of obvious growing evil – are all great tragedies. But, tragedy can ultimately bring catharsis and new beginning, and that is the hope. The farce of Red Bull™ threats and blue-gloved storm troopers being played out beneath the five-colored rainbow of Threat Advisories signals the beginning of the final act of our own morality play, “Amerika: The Dream.” It will be interesting to see how the story ends. …And, yes, I can confirm that the Fat Lady has already begun to sing!

If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don't have to worry about answers.
Thomas R. Pynchon, Gravity’s Rainbow

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