…the terrorists will have already won. And perhaps the readers, too. From “The New Shape Of Fear”, by the Post’s DeNeed L. Brown.

And you wonder about all those people who down bottles of water and gulp their coffee because it would be insane to dump a $5 cup. Don’t they become the crazy, jittery ones high on caffeine? And you think of all the waste piling up, produced by people who don’t have time to pour liquids into their bodies before they get through security, and you wonder about lines in airplanes for those tiny bathrooms with folding doors and signs admonishing the user to wipe the sink as a courtesy for the next passenger.

You walk by emergency boxes that look like old-fashioned telephone booths, but they are lit up from inside with red glowing lights: “Press for Help.” You would like to press the button but you are not sure what you would say if somebody answered. Perhaps you would pose the question: What is safe anymore? Where is safety? Can’t we just all get along? Will my bottle of Prell kill me?

I hate to sound like I’m cavalier about a sensitive moment in our Nation’s history, but the next time Chuck Klosterman is in airport bar, I think it would be very fitting if the person sitting next to him doesn’t want to talk about pro football, but instead wants to discuss the bodily functions of their fellow passengers who were guzzling coffee seconds before running the security gauntlet.