What if the plane of humanity, earthly life itself, even, is going down? How do we spend those last minutes of existence.
Right now, it seems that First Class has shut the door to keep out the babble and commotions from the rest of the plane. They continue to enjoy being waited on with champagne and caviar.
It’s not as though the problem hadn’t been noticed early on and those that noticed have been doing their best to mobilise others to help fix the problem. They’ve been mocked and dismissed as fear-mongers as always happens when someone disturbs the peace by raising an alarm. “Look, the sky is blue and we’ve never before had such an easy ride. Stop with your story of doom! Sit down and let us enjoy the film” is the general response.
But there are pockets of great unease on the plane, too. Arguments are breaking out. People clutch their wallets, handbags and children seeing things getting nasty. People are fighting each other for things that won’t matter a jot when this monstrous human edifice hits the ground. Panic hasn’t quite broken out yet, but the flight is feeling different. Something isn’t right. Most aren’t hearing the call to do something, the alcohol is very relaxing, but there are some looking to fix things. Inevitably, because we are humans, there is no agreement on what the problem is and how to fix it, so the efforts are unco-ordinated.
What is the pilot and crew doing? Is there a pilot? Is there someone in the cockpit wrestling to keep this mega-plane in the air or is it someone with a deeply sinister death wish? Are they all dead in there? The door to the cockpit is tightly shut and the rest of us are flying passively and blind, going down.
I hope, of course, that life as we know it is not going down like a massive plane crash, but if it is, and the way we are behaving so far is just as I describe - how should we spend those last minutes?
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