While the A-list pundits debate security on airplanes vs. privacy at airports, the pump house gang, 'serfers' if you will, including the likes of Mark Levin and his pinkie puppet, Michael Berry, are still trying to pin the tale on the donkey. As though at the President's finger snap Janet Napolitano devised a scheme to show how Vic Tanny the government is these days and so alienate as many more 2012 voters as possible.

Meanwhile, the call to be like Israel, where profiling is not merely clever college students looking through one way glass for behavior cues, but relentless algorithms crawling about your bank and credit card accounts, your licenses and business connections, and no doubt through your online personas. So that by the time you get to the airport big brother has already seen your most private parts...

Your "junk" in a very real sense.

What a strange word for genitalia. Where did it come from?

A corresponding term expressly for women is va-jay-jay, but that has a lyrical quality and runs with words like Fugazi — the name of a bad film, a punk band, and the term used by Johnny Depp in the film Donnie Brasco for something that's fake.

But junk is junk. Whether drugs or refuse, junk has no good connotation. There's nothing lyrical or creative about the word. Nothing ironic or funny. It's as if to suggest the end does not justify the means. The whole process of reproduction comes from junk and the 'issue' itself is junk.

In a way, this whole privacy business is a reflection of our puerile modesty, which no amount of porn, or even genuine eroticism, can hide. Perhaps, "junk" is merely a current bout of self-loathing, and just plain frustration with the material unit.....