While it’s fresh in my mind I thought I’d recap my recent trip to Brazil, comparing TSA and US Customs with Brazil.

I flew out of Philadelphia International Airport on Delta, through Atlanta and to Sao Paulo.
Since the TSA has instituted the nude scanners I have become pretty adept at dodging them and making my way through the metal detector.
It just goes to show how much security theater and a show it really is. As I approach the security checkpoint I size up which lines lead to the metal detectors and which lead to the RapeScan (I think that’s right) machines. It’s as simple as nonchalantly slipping into the correct line and pretending like you don’t hear the TSA agents yelling at you to switch lines.
After taking my belt, watch, phone, wallet, jacket, and shoes off, I made my way through Philly security no problem and got onto my flight, albeit delayed four hours.
Brazilian passport control was no problem taking only about 10 minutes, and you don’t even have to fill out a customs declaration. I simply claimed my luggage and walked out of the airport.
After a long week and lots of traffic we headed back to the airport to come home.
I never have any hesitation about foreign airport security because they are always polite and respectful, the total opposite of the TSA.
When leaving Brazil, I noticed the airport had copies of the TSA’s 3-1-1 posters about liquids in your carry-on posted everywhere. The funny part was it looked like they had blown it up to poster size from a thumbnail so you couldn’t read any of the text. Perfect.

What I really love about the “3-1-1 Rule” is the pretense that modern explosives are fine for air travel, as long as you store them in 3 ounce containers, and only bring a quart worth.
Security was very polite, and only had me remove my laptop from by backpack. They also didn’t require me to remove my shoes before going through the metal detector.
The real fun begins when you try to get back into your own country.
After landing in Atlanta you’re directed down a series of hallways to passport control, a giant room with 64 booths for US Customs agents to process people.
Since most international flights are overnight and arrive in the morning, you’d think there may be some extra staff available, but no. In typical government fashion there were only a handful of agents there and as all the flights arrived, the queue filled up quickly. I had a three hour layover until my flight to Philly. Should be plenty of time. Ha.
While you’re forced to stand in a seemingly endless line, you have the pleasure of obnoxiously loud overhead speakers playing the audio from a propaganda video that is running on monitors overhead. The video explains all that you’re about to endure in order to visit the land of the free.
I wish I could have used my phone to take a video of it, but that’s prohibited and I’d probably be in jail now. Just imagine lots of American flags with patriot music in the background and someone extolling the virtues of US Customs and Border Protection. It took nearly an hour to make it through the line and about thirty seconds to get my passport stamped. For now, only foreigners are required to provide their fingerprints and photo. The guy didn’t say a word and I don’t think he even looked at me.
On to baggage claim and waiting another 25 minutes for my bags. I claim them, hand by customs declaration form to another “officer” and he checks to make sure I don’t “owe” any taxes on my gifts. Good to go and I’m ready to re-check my bags onto Philly.
Now for the fun part. No matter what your destination, even if you are leaving the airport, you must check your bags and go through TSA security. That’s right, to leave the airport or get back on another plane.
Remember all those people that just came through passport control? Well, they’re in line with me now too. Another 30 minutes to get to the head of the line. I sized up my lane for a metal detector, but when I got up closer saw that they were all disabled and everyone was being forced into the backscatter radiation booths. So I prepared myself for what was coming.
To add insult to injury, just as in passport control, there was a video playing about how safe the backscatter machines are, that there is no medical risk, that no naked images can be seen or stored or copied from the machines. Basically just a stream of lies, set on repeat.
I told the TSA agent I was opting out of “that thing” and as they normally do, she yells “We got an opt-out here. Need a male for opt-out.”
I shove all my stuff on the conveyor belt into the x-ray machine and stand in the holding area. Another agent comes over and grabs my stuff and I walk shoeless over to a screening area.
The agent looks like a total creep (the image below is not him, but a good approximation of the creepiness level) as he pulls on latex gloves. He asks me if I understand that opting out requires a pat-down. I say yes.

This is not him, but a good approximation of the creepiness level.
Then he goes on to explain how he’ll be molesting me today. When he finishes describing the gate rape I said in the angriest tone I thought I could get away with, “You do what you gotta do.”
Then he asks if I’d like a private screening, to which I replied, “No, let’s do this out in the open where everyone can see.”
Although I have no doubt that the stories of the TSA actually groping people are true, this guy was either lazy or thought I would deck him if he tried anything.
After a cursory pat-down he goes to check his gloves in the machine for “explosives” and comes back in 30 seconds to tell me I can leave now.
Perhaps the most disheartening thing was not the TSA, but rather that out of the hundreds of people in line, I was the only one who opted out. The rest simply trotted into the machines like lemmings, not a care in the world. If everyone in that line had opted out, the airport would grind to a halt and the scanners would be gone in a day.
I will be prepared next time though. I plan to start carrying one of these when I fly.
