Paranoia | Front Porch | Indy Week
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In light of the recent arrests of some 20-odd terrorists in Great Britain who were plotting to blow up airliners with explosives disguised as beverages and personal electronic devices, I feel that it is high time we abandon all semblance of calm rationality. Indeed, if it is no longer safe for me or my wife or anyone I know to board an airplane while carrying toothpaste, lipstick, hair gel or for God's sake a bottle of Starbucks' Frappuccino; the world has become an unimaginably dangerous place.

Why, just this afternoon I was shopping for groceries and a chill went down my spine as I walked by the dairy case. As I passed those bottles of milk and orange juice, I remembered hearing on the radio that the highly unstable explosive, liquid nitroglycerin, must be kept cold when transported. Might the smiling face of Paul Newman on that bottle of pink lemonade be hiding a deadly fireball, just waiting to devour the entire Whole Foods and everyone in it? I couldn't even begin to walk through the body care section. For some visceral reason, the shampoos and conditioners just seem so much more sinister in their gooey viscosity, like napalm or toxic waste. In fact, I found myself rushing out of the store without having bought anything, which I know is a dereliction of my patriotic duty in these days of the War On Terror.

I just hope it will be possible to order MREs (meals ready to eat) online, because I am sure they are safe. And I think I'm going to start collecting rainwater because Bill O'Reilly once mentioned that al Queda wants to poison the water supplies. I wonder if I could install a metal detector in my driveway? I've been trying to teach my dog, Lucie, to sniff out bombs, but she just keeps licking my toes.

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