Kill' em all!

Every summer, I succumb to an extreme distaste of people. Yes, people in general. I sit in my high throne, slowly petting my evil looking Persian cat, and judge every single living soul that crosses my way HARSHLY. 

I guess the job helps my seasonal fixation. As the work load increases - hmm hmm, I am the one sacrificing the summer to take you to all those lovely locations, you ungrateful lout - I have to deal directly with something close to 756 passengers every working day. That makes for an unbelievably big number of rude, screaming, stressed out-of-their-minds, bordering on insane, selfish, uninformed and/or crazy people. But I will get to bitching about passengers nowadays at a later date. For now, I want to make sure that the general rudeness of people in everyday life is not just my imagination.

It's like everyone lives in a bubble. They might see the outside world, but in a distorted way, where nobody else exists, or matters. I won't even mention the lack of simple courtesies - when I let someone with less items in their basket pass in front of me in the supermarket line, they eye me like I just proposed to steal their shopping - but flat out meanness. Like a car occupying two parking spots in a busy area, because the driver can't be bothered to acknowledge the existence of other cars. Or a couple taking a 4-seats table at a restaurant, because the lady needs to place her precious handbag on an extra one, while 4 people wait in line to get a table themselves. Or the parents that let their small children run wild and bother every single living soul around, with no care in the world, because OF COURSE everyone else just has to love their little angels. Or the people who just bump into you in every single corner of the earth because they can't move an inch. Why do you have to do anything for anyone?? How preposterous... and so on so forth, in an unending stream of selfishness that is slowly driving me out of my mind.

The other day, while I was walking Boo, the dog, I noticed a couple having some car trouble by the side of the road. So I decide to go check if the local mechanic shop is still open and after confirming it, I go back to them and tell them there is in fact help available just at the end of that street. They don't even look at me, much the less thank me, and take off in the general direction I pointed. And that's it. I mean, I feel like I did my civic duty, but come on, at least a little thanks would be great. The hateful bitch in me just wishes I had let them rot in that broken car. I didn't have to interfere, I did it because I felt it was right. Why can't people be more... jeez, more open to the people around them?

And that's why I hate people. That's why it's so hard for me to go to a supermarket or any crowded place. Because I will be exposed to mindless stupidity. And I just can't take it anymore.

Let me tell you, my imaginary friend, at the end of the summer, I just feel like living in a secluded cabin in the middle of a forest. No people. No hate.

Old Brave New World

One fine day, sometime in 1931, dear old Aldie woke up, took his usual shower and read his favourite morning paper over breakfast. Then he learned about some new industrial development - who knows? Small boxes with moving images? A new toaster perhaps? Either way, then and there, he decided to write an outrageously frightening satirical narrative describing an entirely utopian - dystopian - society where children are created in hatcheries, learn during sleep and are tyrannically distributed into castes according to genetic codes. As there is no natural reproduction, recreational sex is the norm - does it start to sound familiar? - and words such as family and marriage are considered too obscene to be mentioned in polite conversation. God forbids two individuals seeing each other for more than a couple of times, sharing is, after all, a virtue... oh wait... there is also no religion, so forget about God.
Aldous Huxley would probably turn in his grave if he could be bothered to return from the underworld and realize his practical joke on the direction his society was taking has actually taken shape some 80 years later.

It is extremely hard to convey some meaning to this post, taking into account my imaginary friends have probably never read Brave New World - no, it is not a picture book. But hey, it is Christmas, the only time of the year when book stores have a bit more noise than flies buzzing. I promise therefore to try to make some sense without getting too descriptive and get to the point as quickly as possible.

Relationships are dying. Was that too fast for you? And by 'relationship' I meant the old sense of the word, you know, when our grandparents chose a partner and stick to him or her for life, through the good and the bad. I read somewhere a psychiatrist claiming that the modern day relationships had a tendency to be brief, but intense. And this tendency will only aggravate itself in time, creating a group of people, a generation of confused and unadapted individuals, that were raised in a certain set of values, but live in a society that follows an entire different set. In other words, you are raised to find that famous and illusive love, marry, reproduce and make it work; but you are confronted with a reality where there are way too many 'loves' , that are extremely pleasurable, but end too early, because all that matters is quick gratification. There is no such thing as the need and responsibility of maintaining it, after all there are so many great people out there... and you keep looking and looking and looking.

Well, if I wasn't just an imaginary doll, I would be one of those seriously damaged girls, unsure of how to make oneself be loved, insecure in this scary scary scary shifting world. Are people that unfeeling? Is companionship obsolete? Is it all about attraction, passion, those 5 seconds when lighting strikes? It sounds so superficial to me. People are just empty minds in steaming bodies, rubbing each other until it becomes boring. No commitment, afraid of what they might find, perhaps, or simply too dumb to be able to make it work or to realize there could be something more. What is there, besides a pretty face, most of the time, anyway?

Alas, my favourite part in Brave New World describes a visit of the main character, Lenina - one of these modern women - to a natural reservation - basically, it's a closed territory where people still live barbarically, well, like we live today. Savages like we are SUPPOSED to be, with families, with values, free to chose their destinies. I remember specifically a scene where she is terribly disgusted by the sight of a woman breastfeeding. Funnily enough it is one of the things I find intolerable. What can I say, it is so... primitive. There, she meets John Savage and the book unfolds in a confrontation between the old and the new. So I'll leave you with one of my favourite quotes of all times:

«"But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin. (...) Not to mention the right to grow old and ugly and impotent; the right to have syphilis and cancer; the right to have too little to eat; the right to be lousy; the right to live in constant apprehension of what may happen to-morrow; the right to catch typhoid; the right to be tortured by unspeakable pains of every kind." There was a long silence. "I claim them all," said the Savage at last.»


It all makes part of life. The good and the bad. I just think it makes more sense when you have someone to share it with. Schuss!

The (Un) glamorous World of Aviation

Once upon a time working for an airline company would be considered one of the most desirable jobs in the world. Pilots were gods. Flight attendants were top models, queens of courtesy and fashion. I'm sure the new tv show Pan Am, set in the 1960's, has reawakened some of that sizzling impression.

Well, reality, my dearest imaginary friends, is - as it usually tends to be - quite disappointing.
It all started one rainy and dreary day - can't really assure you that these atmospheric conditions are factual, but taking into consideration Irish weather, I have an overwhelming probability of being accurate - sometime in 1991, when some freckly chaps at the pub, over some watery and distasteful Guinness pints, decided they had had enough of running at a loss with their two aircraft airline company. In enters the infamous Michael O'Leary, the hero of this tale - or more likely, our typical anti-hero, who I personally consider a genius mind, but alas - just returned from a visit to the Southwest Airlines and ready to change the scenery of European airlines forever. ' Ya culchies did it all arseways. Ya'll banjaxed. Shut your gobs and listen' and he proceeded to explain that it was time to stop pampering useless gits and start taking them from A to B with as much stress as possible - we all have to admit that being stressed is quite fashionable nowadays. Who needs pillows anyway, when the seats are so close together and upright, you'd knock your head on the front seat if you had one?
By no means I intend to claim this infamous Irish company started the world wide "no frills" campaign. But it sure as hell became the most successful one in Europe. 300 Boeing 737-800 aircrafts over 1100 destinations. I go as far as to admit that it did more for the European Union than any politics or laws. People can now work in A and spend weekends with the wife and kids at B. Or you can go for a day shopping spree in Madrid or Barcelona at an affordable whim. A ticket, a bag, a meal on board and the honour of being the first to board are all together still cheaper than flying any other old fashionable company, but most of all, are OPTIONAL.

But I deviate, as usual, from the real purpose of this post. With all this saving up, what happened to the steamy desirable pilots and flight attendants? Well, frolicking around became a little bit more difficult for these clichès couples, considering there are no more overnight stays anywhere. But unfortunately, it is not over. There are still ways of hiding these illicit affairs from their respective spouses.

Flight attendants - now known as Cabin Crew - are not chosen by their perfect beauty, delicate manners and control of foreign languages. They are chosen by availability and the will to work under duress - minding you are still not too large to fit the narrow cabin without bumping into too many passengers or causing moderate to extreme turbulence. It's not by chance most are recruited in Eastern European countries or Southern - and bankrupt - countries, where ladies, gay men and a handful of others are more willing to work in any conditions. Regardless.

And as for the pilots - oh those wonderful ex-gods! -, they became - for the most part - prepubescent mercenary boys, not working for the wonders of flying, but for the pretty awesome salary that allows them to wallow in booze, expensive Playboy mansions and meaningless unprotected sex with - mostly - gold diggers. Well, at least this goes on for a couple of years, when they grow bored of sucking the blood of totally suspecting victims and return to their eager and blind girlfriends, get married, become captains and keep boozing, while complaining about everything and something more.
If I was capable of guilt, which as an imaginary being, I am obviously not, I would add there are actually a bunch of good people in this industry. It is true that all is faster, more intense and more than slightly insane in the aviation world. Temptation is always present. But there are so many of them and some are truly blessed and untouched by the deviousness of excess. And to those I would like to say, I am glad to have met you, all the best and please remain far away.

There is so much I could say... but I suppose I've tired myself as it is. Time to leave you all to your daily lives. Command over to you. Schuss!