Do you want to dub these flights "Air Scabies" or shall I?:
Illegal immigrants picked up after sneaking across the U.S.-Mexico border – and then released to await hearings – are reportedly getting onto commercial planes without any ID other than "a simple paper document that anyone can easily alter or reproduce."
An outraged local spokesman for the National Border Patrol Council, Hector Garza, told Breitbart News the security threat from the lax policy "is absolutely unacceptable."
"The aliens who are getting released on their own recognizance are being allowed to board and travel commercial airliners by simply showing their Notice to Appear [hearing] forms," he told Breitbart in an interview posted Friday.
"We do not know who these people are. We often have to solely rely on who they say they are, where they say they came from, and the history they say they have.
"We know nothing about most of them. [Immigration and Customs Enforcement] releases them into the American public, and now they are boarding aircraft at will with a simple paper document that anyone can easily alter or reproduce themselves."
Well. No possibility of anything going wrong with this little arrangement, is there? Maybe we should call these flights, "Air Qaeda" instead. Can't say it'll do much for high-rise office productivity, what with people in central business districts around the country nervously staring out their windows every few seconds.
Garza warned the practice has wider implications.
"The threat this poses from terrorists upon the American people is absolutely unacceptable," he said.
"Central Americans are not the only people crossing our border and being released. Does anyone actually think that cartels and other criminal or possible terrorist organizations are not taking advantage of the fact that we are having to leave our border wide open while we reassign the majority of our agents to process family units and minors? Of course this situation is being exploited by such threats."
And to think Khalid Sheikh Mohammed and the other nineteen 9/11 conspirators spent five years infiltrating our country, getting their pilot training, and otherwise painstakingly preparing for that fateful Tuesday. KSM could have gotten on a flight looking like he did after his waterboardings with one of those damned pieces of paper and he'd have been waved through, no questions asked, while the TSA maulings of blue-eyed blonde three year old toddlers and little blue-haired grannies and their Depends would have continued unabated. And who could blame them? If the next person in line smells like the inside of a rhinoceros and has lice using his cheeks for parade grounds, would you want to juggle his junk?
Let's leave free boarding passes and red carpet Islamikaze treatment aside for a moment and take a closer gander at the countless diseases that are being given boarding passes and red carpet pestilence treatment. Do you know what makes early twenty-first century society so vulnerable and susceptible to potential pandemics that could wipe out a large portion of the planetary population? Not just our sociability, but our transportational interconnectedness. And what is the chief mode of that transportational interconnectedness? Air travel. Some nondescript salesman picks up H1N5 (bird flu, or "Captain Chirps") in Hong Kong without realizing it (aka "Patient Zero"), thinks he's just got a cold, boards a flight for Los Angeles, infecting everybody else on the plane in the process, "Plane Zero" arrives at LAX, and now 150 "Patients Zero" disembark and fan out to God knows where, merrily spreading their contagion as they go. In Stephen King's classic novel The Stand, all it took was one guard, exposed to an engineered "superflu" virus, escaping his base with his wife and kid, to set the dominos of death toppling. Much the same scenario unfolded in 28 Days Later, all the way to Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes. All aided and/or abetted by infected people getting on commercial flights.
But in none of these scenarios - not a single, blasted one of them - did the government knowingly put these infected people on these airliners. Does Barack Obama even have a Center For Disease Control anymore, or has he renamed it the Center For Disease Communicability?
How would you like to be an unassuming business-class passenger on one of these flights? Here's how I envision the scenario (substitute "Pedro de Pacas" or whatever for Mick Foley and lice for dried blood flakes in this excerpt from Foley's first memoir Have A Nice Day):
"I arrived at the Tokyo airport the next morning and waited to board. I heard my name called and walked to the boarding desk. "Mr. Foley," a woman explained, "you have been upgraded." I didn't know what to think. I had been upgraded without asking. I thought about it while I sat in my wide, comfortable business-class seat, and concluded that they simply must have felt sorry for me. We took off for JFK, and the woman next to me started to wriggle. She tried not to look at me, and when she did, she was clearly uncomfortable. I tried to put myself in her shoes, and the situation became a little clearer. I had prominent stitches in my eyebrow and head. My right cheek was a deeply swollen purple, and I had my left ear bandaged with gauze. To make matters worse, because of the stitches, I couldn't shower, and my hair was particularly matted with dried blood. The dried blood was flaking and falling in small chips onto my shoulder. And to top it all off, my right arm....was now turning brown. The poor lady excused herself to go to the restroom, and oddly, after an hour, had not returned. I looked around, and saw her in the distance, resting comfortably somewhere in the vicinity of [seat] 21C. This woman had paid a great deal of extra money to sit in business, but had made a conscious decision to sit in coach rather than be next to me. I kind of like that."
Now bear in mind that Foley, due to his unique set of circumstances, was merely dirty and smelly. He didn't have a runny nose, he wasn't coughing or sneezing, he didn't have a visible five-colored rash that glowed like the letters "M.I.A.M.I." on a Father's Day tie, and he didn't have lice using the flaking dried blood chips like surfboards. Bear also in mind that it was just him. He didn't have who knows how many more reinforcements in first class and coach. Foley's flight took place in 1995; in 2014, that lady who had paid a great deal of extra money to sit in business may have had no place to go, short of exiting the fuselage and grabbing onto one of the wings like the cheesehead in the State Farm "Discount DAAABLE-Check" commercial.
It's really a microcosmic version of the battle the city of Murrieta, California was forced to fight over the past week and a half - not against the illegals, who were duped into risking life, health, and limb to come here (M13 and Mexican narco-terror gang-bangers and jihadist operatives excepted) only to be treated like partisan chattel once they arrived, but against the Obama Regime and their counterparts in Mexico City, Guatemala City, Tegucigalpa, San Salvador, et al who schemed and plotted this entire manufactured crisis.
The difference is, that lady, whatever you want to think of her, was able to sit someplace else, and even if she hadn't, that flight eventually arrived at JFK, she'd have disembarked and been on her way. American citizens in towns like Murrieta cannot simply "move to a seat in coach," nor should they. This is our country. We were here first, no matter what the La Raza racists chant or what took place a century and a half ago. And we were, and are, minding our own business, living our lives, pursuing our happiness, and not bothering anybody. It is the feds that are using these illegals as pawns to inflict disease, homelessness, and the massive associated costs on conservative communities in a crass, naked bid for a political endgame of total, permanent power. It is outrageous, it is wrong, it is illegal, it is unconstitutional, and none should be surprised if other communities follow Murrieta's steadfast example as this planned attack, via Air Scabies, spreads across the country. If the term "country" even has any meaning anymore.
In the mean time, keep a weather eye out that high-rise office window. Assuming you can clear a porthole through all the lice.
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