"The Sad and Sordid Whereabouts of bin Cheney and bin Bush"
A Free Online Chapter addition to "Stupid White Men"
by Michael Moore

Part One: "What Does a 99-cent Bic Lighter Tell Us About the Bush War on
Terrorism?"

On September 22, 2001, just 11 days after the terrorist attacks in New York
and Arlington, I had to fly. I had actually wanted to fly on September 11,
and in fact had a ticket on the 3:00pm American Airlines flight from LAX to
JFK. As we all know, that flight never made it off the ground as hours
earlier four California-bound flights, two on American and two on United,
were hijacked as part of a coordinated suicide mission to attack the World
Trade Center in New York City and the Pentagon outside Washington, DC.

Stranded in Los Angeles, my wife and I (out there for the annual Prime Time
Emmy Awards for our series, "The Awful Truth"), were awakened that morning
by my wife's mother, calling us from Flint at 6:15 a.m., L.A. time. I
answered the phone and heard her say that "New York was under attack, New
York is at war." I remember thinking, "So what's new," but she suggested we
immediately turn on the TV. I fumbled for the remote and switched on the
hotel room TV. And there it was. The twin towers on fire, black smoke
billowing upward.

"OK," I thought, "a really bad fire." But then they ran the replay from 15
minutes earlier, of the second plane hitting the south tower. This wasn't an
accident. We tried to call our daughter in New York. The phone lines weren't
allowing any calls. We tried calling our friend, Joanne Doroshow, who works
a few blocks from the towers. Again, the lines were jammed.

A horrible panic started settling inside me. Finally, I reached Joanne's
office. A woman answered, frantic. I asked if Joanne was there. "NO!" she
shouted. "She's not here! We have to go! Ohmygod!" She dropped the phone and
I heard a loud roar, like a train. My wife said, "Look at the TV." I did,
and I saw from L.A. what I was listening to over the phone: the collapse of
the south tower.

It would be another four hours before we were able to reach our daughter,
and seven hours before Joanne calls us, safe inside her apartment (she had
ducked into a building just in time as the cloud of debris rained its way
down the street).

That night, as we watched the images repeated on the TV, a ticker began
running the names of some of the dead who had been on the planes. Along the
bottom of the screen came the name, "William Weems." A friend of ours the
next morning confirmed that this was, in fact, the same Bill Weems, a line
producer from Boston with whom we had recently filmed a batch of humorous TV
spots targeting the tobacco companies. Bill was on the Boston-to-L.A. plane.
He died as the jet, traveling at 586 miles per hour, slammed into the south
tower. He left behind a wife and 7-year old daughter. It was all so
unbelievably horrific.

The airports were closed and all planes were now grounded. I found a Hertz
dealer who would rent me a mini-van for $1,700 -- and 43 hours later we
pulled out of our hotel on the Pacific Ocean and began our 2,990-mile
journey home to our apartment in New York City.

Somewhere around Oklahoma City, the airports were all open again, but my
wife did not want to ditch the mini-van and get on a plane. So we continued
on home for the next few days, the first ever trip each of us had made
driving coast to coast. It was, as it turned out, well worth it, as it gave
us a chance to gauge the reaction of average citizens, especially as we
passed through Bush and Ashcroft country (The internet letters I wrote - and
read - from the road can be found on my website).

By September 22, I had no choice but to get back on a plane. I had been
scheduled to give a talk in San Antonio, and so off I went on an American
flight out of Newark. At the airport there was a newly, hastily put-together
list of all the items that I could NOT bring aboard the plane. The list was
long and bizarre. The list of banned items included:

No guns. (Obviously)
No knives. (Ditto)
No boxcutters. (Certainly now justified)
No toenail clippers. (What?)
No knitting needles. (Huh?)
No crotchet hooks. (Now, wait a minute!)
No sewing needles.
No mace.
No leaf blowers. (OK, now it's personal)
No corkscrews.
No letter openers.
No dry ice.
The list went on and on. A lot of the items made good sense. I wasn't quite
sure if terrorists also made quilts in their spare time, and I guess I must
have missed the terrorist incident where some poor bastards smuggled dry ice
aboard a plane (were they trying to keep their Popsicles cold until they ate
them and then used the sticks for their attack?).

Frankly, I was a little freaked-out about flying so soon after 9-11 and I
guess there was just no way I was going to fly without a weapon for my
protection. So I took the New York Yankees-signed baseball that Mayor
Giuliani had given me on "TV Nation," put it in a sock, and - presto! Whip
that baby upside somebody's head, and they're going to take a little nap.
Note to budding terrorfuckers: If you try something on a flight I'm on, I'll
Clemens ya. That, or the smell from my ratty sock, is going to do you in.

Though I now felt "safe" with my makeshift weapon, as I continued to fly
through the fall and winter, I did NOT feel safe being greeted at airport
security by weekend warriors from the National Guard holding empty M-16s and
looking like they shop in the same "special needs" department at K-Mart
which I visit from time to time.

More importantly, though, I kept noticing something strange. The guy in
front of me, while emptying his pockets into the little plastic tray to run
through the x-ray machine, would take out his butane lighter or matchbook,
toss them into the tray, then pick them up on the other side -- in full view
of security. At first I thought this was a mistake until I looked at the
list of banned items again -- and saw that butane lighters and matchbooks
were NOT on the forbidden list.

Then came December 22, 2001. Richard Reid, on an American Airlines flight
from Paris to Miami, attempted to light his shoes on fire, using matches.
His shoes, the police said, contained a plastic explosive and, had some
passengers and flight attendants not taken quick action to restrain him, he
would have been able to blow the entire plane out of the sky. But his
lighter would not light the shoes fast enough, and everyone survived.

I was sure after this freakish incident that the lighters and matches would
surely be banned. But, as my book tour began in February, there they were,
the passengers with their Bic lighters and their books of matches. I asked
one security person after another why these people were allowed to bring
devices which could start a fire on board the plane, especially after the
Reid incident. No one, not a single person in authority or holding an
unloaded automatic weapon, could or would give me answer.

My simple question was this: If all smoking is prohibited on all flights,
then why does ANYONE need their lighters and matches at 30,000 feet -- while
I am up there with them?!

And why is the one device that has been used to try and blow up a plane
since 9-11 NOT on the banned list? No one has used toenail clippers to kill
anyone on Jet Blue, and no one has been blowing away the leaves in the aisle
of the Delta Connection flight to Tupelo.

BUT SOME FRUITCAKE DID USE A BUTANE LIGHTER TO TRY AND KILL 200 PEOPLE ON
AMERICAN AIRLINES FLIGHT #63. And this did nothing to force the Bush
Administration to do something about it.

I began asking this question in front of audiences on my book tour. And it
was on a dark and rainy night in Arlington, Virginia, at the Ollsson's
Bookstore a couple miles from the Pentagon that I got my answer. After
asking my Bic lighter question in my talk to the audience, I sat down to
sign the books for the people in line. A young man walks up to the table,
introduces himself, and lowering his voice so no one can hear, tells me the
following:

"I work on the Hill. The butane lighters were on the original list prepared
by the FAA and sent to the White House for approval. The tobacco industry
lobbied the Bush administration to have the lighters and matches removed
from the banned list. Their customers (addicts) naturally are desperate to
light up as soon as they land, and why should they be punished just so the
skies can be safe?

The lighters and matches were removed from the forbidden list.

I was stunned. I knew there had to be some strange reason why this most
obvious of items had not been banned. Could the Bush mob be so blatant in
their contempt for the public's safety? How could they do this, and at the
same time, issue weekly warnings about the "next terrorist threat"? Would
they really put Big Tobacco's demands ahead of people's lives?

Yes, of course, the answer has always been YES but not now, not in a time of
national crisis, not NOW, so soon after the worst domestic mass murder in
U.S. history!

Unless there was no real threat at all.

The hard and difficult questions must be asked: Is the "War on Terrorism" a
ruse, a concoction to divert the citizens' attention?

Accept, if you will for just a moment, that as truly despicable as George W.
Bush is, he would not be so evil as to help out his buddies in tobacco land
that that would be worth suffering through another 9-11. Once you give the
man that - and for once I am asking you to do just that - once you admit
that not even he would allow the murder of hundreds or thousands more just
so Marlboro addicts can light up outside the terminal, then a whole other
door opens - and that door, my friends, leads to the Pandora's Box of 9-11,
a rotten can of worms that many in the media are afraid to open for fear of
where it might lead, of just how deep the stench goes.

What if there is no "terrorist threat?" What if Bush and Co. need,
desperately need, that "terrorist threat" more than anything in order to
conduct the systematic destruction they have launched against the U.S.
constitution and the good people of this country who believe in the freedoms
and liberties it guarantees?

Do you want to go there?

I do. I have filed a Freedom of Information Act demand to the FAA, asking
that they give to me all documents pertaining to the decisions that were
made to allow deadly butane lighters and books of matches on board passenger
planes. I am not optimistic about what the results of this will be.

And let's face it - it's just one small piece of the puzzle. It is, after
all, just a 99-cent Bic lighter. But, friends, I have to tell you, over the
years I have found that it is PRECISELY the "little stories" and the "minor
details" that contain within them the LARGER truths. Perhaps my quest to
find out why the freedom to be able to start a fire on board a plane-full of
citizens is more important than yours or my life will be in vain. Or maybe,
just maybe, it will be the beginning of the end of this corrupt, banal
administration of con artists who shamelessly use the dead of that day in
September as the cover to get away with anything.

I think it's time we all stood up and started asking some questions of these
individuals. The bottom line: Anyone who would brazenly steal an election
and insert themselves into OUR White House with zero mandate from The People
is, frankly - sadly - capable of anything...

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