Nudity in Flight

I came to work today in a tizzy, all ready to write up a vitriolic post about how the latest scuttled terror plot in London (21 arrested for plans to bring liquid explosives aboard U.S.-bound commercial airlines). I was going to write about how my hair will never, ever look good on vacation ever again, thanks to the terrorists, and how I just *know* I'll spend hours and hours parched on airplanes, begging some uptight stewardess to let me have an extra miniature bottle of water. It was going to touch on how sick I am of all these REACTIONARY rules (which become enforced after it's already too late, and when we should be concentrating on NEW hijinks, AND are sporadically enforced to boot, in my experience). My solution was that we all just get on airplanes naked from now on, so I was going to "treat" you to a long rant about that, but it appears that BoingBoing has already beat me to the punch, and (naturally), did a better job than I could. So just go read his version while I pout in a corner. Naked. And parched.