No crazy moon language allowed

Apparently speaking a foreign language in an airport is now deemed suspicious, and grounds for questioning you and making you miss your plane.

San Francisco Part 2

We arrived at Logan Airport in plenty of time. Given that it was about 35 celcius, I felt it was justified to hire a cab rather than lug suitcases on the T. I did my usual thing and tried to remove all metal from my person and put it in a pocket of my carry-on bag, in a vain attempt to evade the metal detector. Unfortunately, something set off the doorframe detector, and I was given a severe wanding.

Hooters of mass destruction

Airport security apparently demanded that a woman drink her own breast milk to prove that she wasn’t planning to use it to take over the plane in some kind of terrorist act of lactation. Maybe they’ve been watching too many Austin Powers movies and thought she was a fembot. “Excuse me, Ms. Tanner, are those things loaded?”


My Airport card arrived. Installed it in the G4, which was tougher than I expected. Getting the machine open was easy, though I had to unplug a couple of the cables. It also didn’t take me long to work out that the piece of green PCB attached to the Airport card had to be some kind of extra part for use in other computers (iBooks maybe?) and not something I had to use.