AlterNet: Chemical Warfare: The RAVE Act

"At the security checkpoint, a man in a windbreaker asks you to remove your jacket, your shoes and your hat. You lift your arms parallel to the floor and he frisks just about every inch of your body. Your hair is searched. He checks your piercings. You lift up your tongue so he can look underneath with a flashlight. You think, "So this is how produce feels." You pass the inspection, minus one Chapstick.
This is not the scene at airport security on a "heightened state of alert" day. This is a party, and you're in the pre-party phase. Up against the wall and spread 'em. And try to relax."