The noisy B terminal of Memphis International is busy for a Monday evening. A man in fatigues sits with his wife and they argue between frantic phone calls about how to get to Daytona before their sanity runs out. Their back and forth is a lyrical battle; between no nonsense midwestern from her and lilting carribean from him. Their child is a happy, free spirit constantly trying to run off and escape his overly-stressed parents. Like clockwork the little boy runs off and makes new friends wherever he goes, his energy seemingly indispensible in a place where the adults have long run out. She returns, out of breath from chasing him, snatching him up from over by the ticket agent, saying to no one in particular “He’s insisting on flying the plane”.
My attention barely diverted, I return to Hunter S. Thompson’s “Kingdom Of Fear” (purchased from MKE’s impressive bookstore) to read:
No sir, not a chance. Mr. Jones does not even pretend to know what’s happening in America right now, and neither does anyone else.
We have seen Wierd Times in this country before, but the year 2000 is beginning to look super wierd. This time, there really is nobody flying the plane…. We are living in dangerously weird times now. Smart people just shrug and admit theyre dazed and confused.
How very true. Most of us are left to wander shell shocked like a rape victim after the events of the past decade. Truly we’ve been exposed to the possibility of the end of the American Century. By hook or by crook, it matters not. The deep tissue trauma has been done. And little boys want to fly this plane to destinations that don’t exist outside of their own minds, leaving the rest of us starving and maybe even secretly hoping for a crash landing so we can get the hell away from these animals and zealots.
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