Aug 29 2006, 12:24 PM
Joined: 29-August 06
Member No.: 23
Why has it taken so long for pilots to speak? A simple question, with an old and almost forgotten answer.
A combination of two overarching things, one natural and one phenomena, might explain; We are 100 years past the first generation to personally conquer the air with exhilaration, as common place modern flight is now mostly that, dull and common.
The euphoria of those pioneering years is not totally lost, yet distant non-the-less. It can still be found in the moments of first solo, in clearing a mountain pass to expose the valley bellow and the setting Sun upon an ocean beyond, seen through towering colorful cumulous.
For fewer pilots still, but the most blessed yet.... an ascending barrel roll into ballistic spin, punching the cloud to the discountenance of all ATC, as recovery includes a celebratory loop.
The smallish percentage of most pilots today who get to exercise the extent of their wings through euphoric aerobatics... is miniscule by comparison to those first days... when most EVERY flight was an undeniable duel with death itself.
100 years now passť, leaves many pilots and even fewer new pilots to fully embody the life and death responsibility they ask for, and fully accept no matter the degree to which they comprehend.... in a way wholly irrespective the dynamics of a modern Federal Aviation Administration.
It is this later development, which grows in near perfect inverse proportion to the natural decline of spirit in the first. An Administration, with ever increasing mass which must always be left on the ground, but is ominously awaiting our return with every landing. More forms to fill and a thicker rule book to accompany every passing season. Those on the ground, endlessly complex-a-fying the simple realities of flight nearly forgotten to the "Heading-Hold" and "Auto-Land", yet inescapable in the modern rarity of engine-out, or elevator cable failure.
Pilots we may be called, but airborne book-keeping the "job" has largely become. A concept previously dominated by principals of self regulation, turned slowly into a bureaucracy of inevitable confusion and ever increasing blamelessness.
As the days and weeks following 9/11 presented pilots with few genuine disclosures and even fewer opportunities to examine the honest facts.... the choice for many was easy or simply made for them; The Administration would say to the public what happened as half/knowledge pilots provided enough internal debate to allow a cover-up to go unchallenged for many years.
The remedy, as seen by this author, exists only through the prerogative of those who accept the joys and inescapable responsibilities of driving through the air. Responsibilities which can only be eased by help from the ground, but never can be superseded by land-based directives nor its fancy badges and seals.
As a pilot, I affirm to my passengers a sincerer commitment to employ the best of my skills in returning them safely to ground, no matter the hold-harmless terms set forth in the fine print of todays' ticket sales. Yet I must ask my passengers to understand and accept with me, the insane joy and risk for taking to the air with unnatural wings of string, sticks, and cloth.
The regulations and safety measures being imposed these last five years, only represent control and limitations on freedom of movement through the small minds of domination. "For Your Safety", is the oldest and best protection-racket con ever devised, if you didn't know.
This Administration, no matter it be by design or out-come, moves swiftly towards limiting freedom for all, and the inherent natural match of flight with a free humanity... thus was offered a major target to destroy on the road to subjugating the very spirit of freedom felt through fingers and toes, stick and rudder, and the wind in the hair of every willing passenger.
This freedom is not a gift from government, it is however unchecked-government which will always represent the greatest threat to it and us all.
F*ck you George W. Bush..... every thing you represent, and every low thought played to by your handlers and handled kin.
Erin S. Myers
human, pilot, free
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