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Flight (468 hits)

Category: None

Rating: 0.71 on 12 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by Lee & Tan (View user info) at 2006-09-08 04:55:41 EDT


Minkowskii's assertion that we must think in terms of a four-dimensional space-time lead him to a pictorial way of thinking about physical processes in which one (or two) spatial dimensions are suppressed but time and (at least one) space dimension are used as the axes. Events, which correspond to points in space-time are represented as points on a Minkowskii diagram while the history of the particle...

It was no use trying to read. Interesting as space-time and matter is as a topic, it was impossible to get my brain interested. My eyes skimmed over the words, registering their physical characteristics. The dot of an i, the curved hook of a j, the simple elegance of a curved 7, the emptiness of a 0. Once recognised, these shapes were dumped into a space in the brain where visual processing and conceptualisation was supposed to occur. Nothing happened. Instead, the pretty hooks and barbs on the j's, y's and f's snatched onto the rings and loops of the q's, d's and p's. Soon, mathematical operators and Greek letters began joining the increasingly tangled pile. I could not comprehend any of the stuff I read. It was time to stop, and go on to the next form of entertainment.

After indecisively cycling through the various options- in-flight movies, audio channels, The King of Torts (John Grisham), attempting to sleep, trying to read about supernovae- I was back at my space-time and matter notes. I flipped back to where I left off, and gave up immediately. Was I expected to make head and tail out of a mess of text that was describing 4-dimensional geometry? In this state of mind? No, it was time to take a walk. I interrupted one of my fellow travellers from her sleep and made my way to the toilet.

2 hours later, I was beginning to suffer from a malignant headache. The headache sensation felt like having a cupful of water poured into the skull and slowly chilled, expanding slowly as it iced up, shards of ice crystals gradually mincing away any remaining capacity for rational thought. An eerie hint of claustrophobia began to creep through this expanding ice field, and I began feeling confined and trapped in this flying aluminium alloy cylinder. A slight fever developed, and I could feel my extremities' temperatures elevating. My palms and fingers were reddish from the increased blood flow, and my ear lobes felt warm to the touch.

In the final hour of the flight, my headache, claustrophobia and fever had worsened. Most of my brain had already shut down, except for several lobes and glands. Their primary function was simply to keep reminding me how bad the situation was, how cramped the leg room was, that I was having a temperature, that my head was hurting with rhythmic beats, that I did not have enough sleep. Added to those troubles was the persistent, intrusive, unabating whine of 4 turbofan engines.

"This is absolutely painful. The waiting, the headache, the confinement..." I thought to myself. "How much longer to touch down? About 15 minutes I suppose." I glanced at my watch. It was 5.50 am. "Only 5 minutes since I last looked at the watch? Things couldn't possibly get worse than this!" 5 minutes had felt like 60 years- I though I could have had several grandchildren in that span of time. On further analysis, I realised things could get worse. A slightly worse case would be to have someone prick me with a pin. In any case, it would be terribly unpleasant to be ill to the point of death, but not quite dead. Definitely worse than being stuck in a Boeing 747-400's economy seat.

Finally, the aeroplane drew to a stop. A short walk alternating between gliding travelators and static floor surfaces, a brief train ride and a thumbprint scan later, I was done with the flying part of my journey. I was suddenly fit enough to drive home. It's good to be home.



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User Reviews


Submitted by fclo002 (user info) at 2006-12-21 12:53:18 EST (#)
Ranking: -2

No Comment

Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-09-11 19:10:09 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Submitted by whysenheimer (user info) at 2006-09-08 21:27:34 (#)
Ranking: 2

Fag below.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Submitted by Sphagnum (user info) at 2006-09-08 11:12:28 (#)
Ranking: -2

http://www.ubersite.com/m/92772

Submitted by SilentRenegade (user info) at 2006-09-09 00:35:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1

well written...whiny but well written.....when you fly 25 hours in a 747 economy seat to third world country and then back again a few days later.....then complain....unless you DID fly 26 hours in a 747 economy seat to a thrid world country and then back again in a few days then...I sympathyze and totally know how much it sucks.

Submitted by whysenheimer (user info) at 2006-09-08 21:27:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Fag below.

Submitted by Sphagnum (user info) at 2006-09-08 11:12:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2

http://www.ubersite.com/m/92772

Submitted by goferforhire (user info) at 2006-09-08 09:36:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

ahsheblah

Submitted by Danger_Ranger (user info) at 2006-09-08 08:04:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

This post sucks.

Submitted by Danger_Ranger (user info) at 2006-09-08 07:52:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Hey - exposure..

Submitted by UnderOathMeal (user info) at 2006-09-08 07:47:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Very, very good.

Lee (plus) Tan you're carving out a nice little niche for yourself here; keep it up.

Submitted by Danger_Ranger (user info) at 2006-09-08 06:41:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

Things can get worse. I recently did a 15 hour jaunt from Amsterdam to Kuala Lumpur. Three hours on the tarmac (fixing a cargo door), and twelve hours sailing across either what used to be soviet states or at least countries that could've/would've/should've been.

I made the mistake of saying yes to the peanuts, and thinking eight hours earlier "one more Irish breakfast before I go...". My stomach backfired on me as I tried to convince my bowel that taking a dump during tarmac-time was kind of rude, I mean I was in the low countries, you can't do that shit (pun), there's no drainage, the whole place looks waterlogged.

I woke 14 hours later thinking, "w-wh-wha.. huh?? oh, I'm in the air, and it's only an hour until touchdown, AND I've got no more wind pai.... uh-oh."

*sheepishly glances around cabin*

btw a +2 from bart counts for shit. He's a hierarchical cuntslore who thinks that creating a site makes him a good writer, but coke bottle glasses and weak shoulders don't a Homer make.

This post was very good, but I'm not sure uber-etiquete allows for two users posting at the same time. ONE POST PER DAY, arse... holes? Maybe that's one poster per day... 'arseholes', like you'd still be plural arseholes...... unless you're siamese twins, which means you're, the both of you - disabled. One post per day double face! ..... i dunno... one post per day owner of an only heart?

Submitted by yhywstudios (user info) at 2006-09-08 05:14:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0

Wow, getting a plus 2 from Bart. Totally star-struck...

Submitted by bart (user info) at 2006-09-08 05:05:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2

This was well written. At first I thought you were going to start a debate on the dimensions of the universe and the nature of free will, but it turned out that that was only reference material for the rest of the inner monologue. Oh well.


Rock 'n' Roll had become stagnant. `Achy Breaky Heart' was seven years
away. Something had to fill the void, and that something was barbershop.

-- Homer Simpson
Homer's Barbershop Quartet