Detained by TSA + 4 other federal agencies.

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Detained by TSA + 4 other federal agencies.

Post by fashizzlepop on Fri Aug 23, 2013 3:47 pm
([msg=76994]see Detained by TSA + 4 other federal agencies.[/msg])

http://varnull.adityamukerjee.net/post/59021412512/dont-fly-during-ramadan

TL;DR: Indian guy who is Hindu flies during Ramadan. Opts out of millimeter wave scanner and ends up being detained for 4+ hours without water or food.
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Re: Detained by TSA + 4 other federal agencies.

Post by Goatboy on Fri Aug 23, 2013 8:09 pm
([msg=76995]see Re: Detained by TSA + 4 other federal agencies.[/msg])

He said it had been 18+ hours towards the bottom third of the article. Nevermind, misread it.

That shaking feeling is one I know well. It's not really fear. Fear is something you can point to: That cliff, that spider, that person standing in the shadow. Either from a an irrational phobia or a rational concern for your own safety, fear is specific.

That shaking feeling is what I call dread. It's like an anonymous fear of something you can't quite place. You don't know why, but you are not in a good place. Something bad is going to happen. You are going to disappear.

I experienced this feeling two years ago just days before I left HTS. My house was raided early in the morning by fairly heavily-armed federal agents. They pointed guns at me, cuffed me, took everything I had that could store a byte, then they left.

As I laid there on the floor in the first few minutes, all I could keep thinking were the words "This is really happening. This is really happening." over and over. Cuffed and surrounded by strangers invading my home, digging through my sock drawer, asking me if I had any weapons, I felt dread. My whole body shook. I couldn't speak without croaking. I was cold and they wouldn't let me get a shirt. I sat there for four hours as they scoured every inch of my house, knocking things over in my room and not caring about the mess. I watched them carry out things they had no reason to take - my paystubs from work, my badge, my notes. They bagged and tagged it all, and gave me a list of the things they took. Some things didn't make it onto that list, and to this day I don't know where they ended up.

That's dread. It wasn't the invasion. It wasn't the theft. It wasn't the handcuffs. It was something I couldn't place, some uncertainty about the future. I feel it every time I see an officer look at me for too long. Every time someone asks why I was off Facebook for so long. Whenever my apartment buzzer goes off. It's a fear rooted deep inside that makes the blood run cold.

This shit actually happens.
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