My Feelings on Flying: Encyclopedia 1: 2-3

The following is yet another excerpt from an encyclopedia of sorts that I will be attempting to publish come the end of the summer. Your thoughts are appreciated, and may affect the final copy, so comment or something!

1:2 Takeoff

The plane had recently taxied on to the runway and was now waiting for clearance for takeoff, or as I liked to think; waiting for another plane to aimlessly wander into it and create a fiery explosion of death (This happened once). As much as these things are uncommon we must always prepare for the worst. This is the first piece of advice I will give regarding airplanes, and it will not be the last.

The second is that flight is an abominable concept that should be left to the birds. Until the age of fourteen I found the concept of flying incredibly intriguing, an illusion quickly shattered by the arrival of logic, along with hairs in odd places (Irrelevant). It was then that I realized the true danger in entrusting myself to a person who feels it necessary to wear brass buttons and ribbons on their hat(pilot). As much as I am myself a connoisseur of fine buttons, I do not feel that it makes me fit to fly a plane. 

I would be lying if I said the only source of my fear was the pilots. It's more the idea that I'm playing a giant game of sardines. Being shoved into a tin can with hundreds of other specimens for elongated periods of time just seems irrational and utterly repugnant. Flight is a bird-brained concept thought up by a pair of commie loving hippies lovingly known as the Wright Brothers. There’s a conspiracy there, I’m sure, but that is better saved for later.

In any case there was once a time when I was packed into one of these death traps with hundreds of other sheep awaiting my doom and it is that I intend to tell you about. By some miracle the plane made its way onto the take-off strip without some terrible accident taking place. If I believed in God this would have no doubt been chalked up to an act of hers.

While sitting on the runway a man with a calm and soothing voice came across the intercom assuring me that we would be taking off very soon. This came at an odd time as the flight attendants were also giving a safety demonstration. I’m sure he was meant to calm us down while the hell driven stewardesses told us of moronic plans to carry out if we found ourselves aboard a land bound fireball.

The brace positions, buckling seatbelts, leaning your chair forward, opening the emergency exit door, flotation devices, it’s all a crock of shit. Next piece of advice: If you find yourself aboard a crashing plane fuck protocol, start praying to your deity of choice and if there’s someone attractive near you, ask them to copulate, because there is no way you are fighting the angry beast that has decided to fall from the sky. What it will do is assure that you spend your last few minutes of life in an uncomfortable position smelling your own crotch.

It was again my curious luck that day to make it safely, if such a word can be used, into the air. Yes, the ground whipped away from me like a scorned lover and I found myself high above the clouds, soaring in what I could only imagine to be hell. The ground was nowhere in sight and all that I could see were the blinding rays of the hot sun, attempting to blind me, thus pulling control of my life further from me.

1:3 Airborne

The first thing to note about being thousands of feet in the air with nothing between you and certain death but an extremely fast tin can is that in flight beverages are a lie. I know people think that in flight beverages and that pitiful portion they call a snack are nice, but in reality it’s nothing but a not-so-clever rouse to placate you and once again blind you to the fact that you are in extreme danger.

You see, airline companies long ago realized that much like life, business and everything else, air travel is a fat crock of shit. Why would they invest then you ask? Because it was strange, it was a new way of travel that was otherwise untapped. It was marketable, exotic; they could put a shiny sticker on it and get people to pay them money for it. Much the same way that I was once convinced by a rather devious clown to take his place in the human cannon, but that is another story entirely.

With all this in mind the airline companies hired a “special” psychologist. This man was a snake, he was paid to be a snake, and he was damn good at it. His job was to take a product, analyze the different demographics for it and then subtly alter the way it was marketed to make people want to buy it more. Boy were the Eskimos mad about that one.

This psychologist spent months and millions of dollars worth of research money testing participants and various theories. He exposed patients to the most horrifying experiences they could possibly imagine and then during, tried to calm them down. What he found was that the ultimate pacifying technique was to offer them a free cold beverage and a small packet of nuts.

              

Thirty million dollars and several years later the airlines had what they wanted! They began to craft their massive birds and load them all with tiny containers of peanuts and cold beverages of the blandest variety. You see, something else the psychologist discovered was that the refreshments could not be too expensive, or the participants would feel as if they were being bribed and would become suspicious, thus making them more anxious.

One such example was a man named Dan. Dan was a family man, he had a wife and two bland, round children. They lived a plain life and were perfectly satisfied with it, For this reason Dan chose to participate in medical experimentation. This particular experiment involved him being strapped into a chair while a vicious bear roared at him from behind cage bars. While he was being roared at a white haired man would calmly offer him a cool beverage.

At first he accepted it, but then estimated the value to be too high and became suspicious. This in turn worried him more and caused him to sweat. The bear smelled the sweat and sensed his fears. In a moment of primal rage the bear broke through the bars and disemboweled Dan the family man. Thank god for informed consent forms. And for this reason the drinks on airplanes are of a medium price and are never too fancy.

Assuming that you do find yourself in a situation where you are seated aboard one of these metal death machines, I can offer you only one true piece of advice. Aside from not yelling "bomb" or other such inflammatory words (The TSA and homeland security are real sticklers), just down as many of the free beverages you can and ride out the sugar high until you are once again safely on the ground.