A Head in the CloudsSubmitted by electrictoothsyndrome at 2005-09-29 11:05:54 EDT
Rating: 1.33 on 18 ratings (18 reviews) (Review this item) (V)
*I guarantee you this post will be stupid as hell.*
I was watching TV the other day, which is a rarity these days (yes, I feel smarter) and I watched this program on National Geographic about this Aloha Airlines plane that had the roof torn off at 24,000 ft, instantly sucking a poor stewardess out of the plane. The plane's passengers could look to the sides of the aircraft and up and see nothing but blue sky, and the Pacific Ocean 24,000 ft below. The only thing holding the aft section of the aircraft to the cockpit was a thin section of buckling floor. Cabin pressure was lost as people struggled with the idea of death in the frigid chill of their present altitude in 300+ mile per hour winds that threatened to rip the aircraft apart...
That made me wonder: what would a turd do to someone if it hit them after falling from 24,000 ft? How about a 400 square ft section of fuselage? How about a stewardess's lifeless body? What if she's old and small and brittle-boned? That's right....THERAPY!....the cure-all for today's 'I don't wanna fuck with it' pussy society.
While I was pleased to see that only one person aboard the flight died (the stewardess I mentioned), as the plane miraculously landed safely, I can't help but wonder if those people will ever be the same again.
Then I saw another news program the other day about a plane that landed on live TV with the nose gear sideways. Not quite as bad considering they could still watch the LIVE TV coverage on their laptops of their OWN AIRCRAFT circling the airport in an attempt to burn off fuel before what could well be a fiery disaster and last moment of their lives while the news anchor says in no uncertain terms that the aircraft is probably "DOOMED!", and they could still breathe...for now; but still a harrowing experience, I'm sure.
I wonder if there are support groups fro people -(I realized I just misspelled 'for' as 'fro', but I'm leaving it there because I've always wanted a fro) - who have survived through these sorts of 'near miss' ordeals. I wonder what they would talk about after the first couple meetings; because you know there's only so many times you can hear someone's 'horrific experience of being sick on the plane because they ate the fish and got beat up by a jive-talkin' Mrs. Cleaver, and blah blah blah blah BLAH!' before you just have to slap the bitch and tell her: "GET AHOLD OF YOURSELF!"
Anyway, later in the same program, I saw stock footage reminding me of the dangers of the Big Bad Wolf, 'TERRORISM' via the magical fear/surrender-of-personal-rights inducing footage of 9/11. Ain't no therapy gonna help those cats, but I'm sure their families get enough sympathy...not to mention the satisfaction of knowing that we've finally caught Osama Bin-Laden and turned him over to the Iraqi authorities to stand trial and.......heeeeeeeeeyyyyyyyyyy........wait a minute........Private Pyle, what does that map you got there say again? And since when is North at the bottom?
*Shameless Plug: http://www.ubersite.com/m/75166*
On top of all this, I've been having dreams about dying in a plane crash lately. The dream goes something like this:
I find myself aboard the airplane and all is normal, the baby right behind my ear is crying, the other spawn from this mother's loins are tugging at her skirt bitching in their singularly child-like screeching way about how there aren't enough crayons or some shit when all of a sudden I feel my stomach give like I'm on a rollercoaster ride and can feel the place accelerating downward. The sound is just like in the cartoons just before a plane crashes. The thought of Wily Coyote getting hit with an anvil in the head right after the crash is no comfort to me really as my own plane is now in an almost 90 degree nose-dive toward the Atlantic Ocean. I keep expecting to feel the cold, hard impact any second as I close my eyes and begin to make my reconciliations with Jesus and Buddha and Muhammad and anyone else who might listen. Then suddenly, I realize that I'm dreaming and I wake up.
You know the kind of dream I'm talking about.... This is the one where you wake up breathless and have this unshakable sense that it's some kind of warning or omen or that maybe you've just really died in some alternate dimension of reality, but God has spared you and given you a second chance.
So, like a bad soap opera plot where they cover up months or even years of events so a character everyone thinks is dead can come back, God makes you think it was all just a dream, and everything is ok.
And he's right, you know, everything IS ok...
So, when my vacation comes up Saturday, what am I doing? Naturally, I'm hopping on a 10 hour flight over the Atlantic Ocean to London, England.
Just be sure to pinch me if I start squirming.