May 15th 09, 06:36 AM
Air Travel in the Kali-Yuga
Alex Kurtagic
May 11, 2009
>>"I have travelled by air since the age of three, and since then I have averaged at least two flights a year, invariably to international destinations. I have lived in five different countries, both in the First and Third Worlds, located on both sides of the Atlantic. This means I have thirty-six years of experience as an international traveller, which makes me somewhat of an authority on how the global air travel experience has changed since the early 1970s.
Because we moved and flew so frequently during the 1970s, ‘80s, and
‘90s, I never really thought about the travel experience until after
September 11, 2001, when the heightened security measures both at the
airport and aboard the aircraft, made me take notice and begin
comparing present conditions with those of the past.
I have only vague recollections of my first flight, in December 1973,
and none of the flights to and from Texas in 1975–6, but I do know
they were not substantially different from the first one I remember
clearly, in July 1977. That year my parents sent me over to Europe to
spend 45 days with my maternal cousins, aunts, uncles, and
grandmother, who lived in France and Spain. As my parents were living
in Venezuela at the time, the flight over to Spain was an eight-hour
transatlantic journey aboard a Boeing 747, which took off at twilight
and landed at Barajas Airport in Madrid the following day.
TWA: The Good Old Days
It amazes me when I compare the size of Madrid Barajas in 1977 against
how it is today. In 1977, a time when the world population was 40%
smaller, it consisted of a single terminal, and it was possible for me
to stand by the conveyor belt at the baggage reclaim hall and see my
relatives waiting for me at the arrivals hall just beyond a pair of
clear glass sliding doors. The doors were not kilometers away, as is
the case in modern terminals, and the view was not blocked by walls,
barriers, antechambers, sinuous layouts, obscure surveillance booths,
or painted glass.
It amazes me even more when I think of how dinner was served aboard
the flight that took me there. Nowadays you might be lucky to get a
cold sandwich in a plastic bag, and if you do, you will likely have to
get your wallet out and pay for it with cash. The reason is, as we all
know, that the airlines have to protect themselves, because I might
well decide to stun a member of the cabin crew by slamming her in the
face with my plastic tray, stab her in the neck with my plastic fork,
or use my tiny plastic knife to cut the throats of any passengers who
may decide to wrestle me to the ground, before I detonate the plastic
explosives in my shoes to blow up everyone in the name of Allah.
Moreover, airlines, which have for years been locked in cutthroat
competition with one another (and particularly the cattle freighters
known as “budget airlines”), as well as been crippled by inflating
fuel and security costs, nowadays fly 0.527 femptometers above
bankruptcy; I must help them survive by upping my expenditure and
lowering my culinary expectations.
Dinner: Pan Am in the 1970s
In 1977 dinner was served hot, on a tray, and complete with full-sized
steel cutlery. Inside a foil container I found stewed beef and boiled
vegetables; and next to the container there was a round of bread,
crackers, cheese, butter, a fruit salad, and a slice of cake. All of
this was served free, as it was included in the price of the fare.
A smoking section was located some rows ahead of me, which meant that
I was l able to smell the cigarettes being smoked by my grown-up
travellers elsewhere inside the cabin. Travellers were allowed to
carry with them matches or kerosene-filled lighters, even though they
could have well decided to set fire to their seats in order to
generate confusion before detonating the plastic explosives in their
shoes to blow up everyone in the name of Allah.
I was allowed to carry a fair amount of hand luggage, including a box
of Legos. My parents could have well stuffed the insides of the pieces
with plastic explosives and instructed me to detonate them with a
match, to blow up everyone in the name of Allah.
Down at the departures terminal, security had consisted merely of my
being walked through the metal detector and having my hand luggage X-
rayed. It was not a problem if I passed through wearing a coat, even
though its pockets could have well been filled with designer drugs,
corrosive substances, doomsday virological weapons, or plastic
explosives.
Inconceivable today.
Since September 11, 2001, the original indignities introduced at
airport terminals have been gradually expanded, to the point where I
now have to take off my shoes, my belt, my watch, my coat, and my
jacket, as well as empty out all my pockets and put my change, my
keys, my telephone, and any book or laptop on a plastic tray so that
it can all be scrutinised under the X-ray machine — lest I have packed
them with plastic explosives. I prefer not to take shaving cream,
shampoo, deodorant, or toothpaste with me if I am travelling with hand
luggage only, as there are limitations on fluids, and I have seen
people being asked to take out all their toiletries and carry them in
a clear plastic bag so that they can be scrutinised under the X-ray
machine too — lest they have packed them with plastic explosives.
Despite my precautions and partial stripping, sometimes the metal
detector bleeps when I walk through it, and I am asked to stand with
my legs apart and my arms extended horizontally so that I can be
subjected to a detailed hand search and a new scan with a hand-held
metal detector by a police officer who thinks I might have a concealed
weapon and might be planning to kill my fellow passengers, hijack the
airplane, and order the pilot at gunpoint to land the Boeing 747 on
the 50th floor of the Sears Tower in Chicago.
And my wife tells me that, before boarding her flight to Sweden
recently, she had to endure a male police officer fondling her
breasts, lest they were being used to conceal lethal chemicals or
weapons of mass destruction.
Up until the 1990s, it was possible for me to arrive at Heathrow
Airport 45 minutes before take off and still have enough time to check
in, go through security, and board the aircraft before the gate was
closed. Now I know I will not make it unless I give myself at least
twice as long, as there are light years of queues at security and at
various points before boarding the aircraft the police will want to
check that I have not forged my identity or my travel documents, and
that I really have the right to be on the flight for which I claim to
have bought a ticket.
A government that I did not elect has told a media that scorns my
values that all these indignities, inconveniences, and restrictions
are for my protection, as there is an organization out there called al-
Quaeda that seeks to blow me to pieces the moment they get a chance. I
recollect hearing, seven or eight years ago, that this organization
sought to do so because its members “hated my freedom”. The motives
behind more recent operations by its members and those inspired by
them, such as the Madrid bombing of 2004 or the London bombing of
2005, however, have not been explained as fully. Apparently, the
government-media complex deems the degree of religiosity of the
attackers sufficient explanation: They are “Muslim extremists.”
The al-Quaeda leadership have long publicized an alternative
explanation: The problem, according to them, is the American
government’s foreign policy in the Middle East, whereby America’s
politicians, irrespective of age, race, gender, disability, or sexual
orientation, lend unwavering support to Israel, both financially,
technologically, and diplomatically, and effectively exempt the latter
from complying with dozens of UN resolutions and other aspects of
international law. Since al-Quaeda identifies with the Muslim
population whose country Israel wiped off the map, this makes the
United States a military target. And if countries besides the United
States have been attacked, it is because, by aping their peers across
the Atlantic, their governing politicians have made military targets
of the countries whose interests they were elected to protect.
This means that the reason I am forced to have my time wasted at the
airport, and the reason I am forced to subject myself to all manner of
indignities and intrusions at the hands of the police and the
intelligence service, including partial stripping; being filmed,
recorded, and databased; treated like a violent international
criminal; and having to eat with my hands, is that politicians I never
voted for (and whom most people scorned at the ballot box) have
decided, without consulting with me but at my expense, to vehemently
support an aggressive country that ignores laws that these same
politicians insist every country must rigorously observe. This also
means that were these politicians to withdraw their support for
Israel, I would be safer and my quality of life as an air traveller
would be higher.
Were it not for Mearsheimer and Walt’s The Israel Lobby and U.S.
Foreign Policy, I would have been very surprised by the pro-Israel
policy so staunchly pursued by Western politicians. Not only because
it yields zero benefits for their constituents, but also because
Israel’s very definition as a nation — which also happens to be a
major irritant for al-Quaeda — contradicts these same politicians’
professed belief in the benefits of multiculturalism and
multiracialism. After all, Israel was created as a Jewish state — by
Jews, for Jews — at the exclusion of all other cultures, races,
ethnicities, and religions. Were I to campaign for a White EU, by
Whites, for Whites, at the exclusion of all other cultures, races,
ethnicities, and non-indigenous religions, I would find that the
legislative changes instituted by successive waves of Western
politicians during recent decades have comprehensively removed any
legal sanctuary I might have had against persecution by individuals,
organizations, and bureaucracies committed to a multicultural view of
Europe.
Were it not for Mearsheimer and Walt’s monograph, I would have been
asking myself why Western politicians have been so spectacularly
remiss in bringing to Israel the good news of multiculturalism and
multiracialism. For, surely, if encouraging all humans to blend
together, from the civic down to the genetic level, is the means by
which inter-ethnic conflict will be ended, then the advent of
multiculturalism and multiracialism in Israel can only be good news
for that troubled country, and the essential ingredient in attaining
long-lasting peace and security in the region.
But because Mearsheimer and Walt’s monograph efficiently explains
these contradictions, I am not surprised. In the context of a powerful
Israel Lobby, it certainly makes a lot of practical sense for Western
politicians to worry about their careers and their reputations before
they worry about my safety and my comfort: After all, they don’t know
me, I am not related to them, I do not own hundreds of newspapers or
television channels with which I can exhibit their virtues (or their
vices) to the world, and I am not able to assist them in seeing the
merit of my point of view with a few strategic billion dollar
donations.
Patriotically standing up to such colossal power for the sake of
millions of strangers who can easily be pacified with ball games and
game shows; who can only cast a vote once every four or five years;
who are offered a strictly limited choice between interchangeable
candidates with nearly-identical political programs; who are
constantly monitored, recorded, regulated, and taxed at every single
level; who can be rapidly prosecuted and convicted for having a
dissenting opinion on the issues that really matter; and who often
will only notice the consequences of present-day policies decades down
the line, by which time the causes will have been forgotten —
patriotically standing up to such colossal power in this context, I
say, takes more cojones and integrity than can be reasonably expected
from the politicians of the Kali-Yuga — what the Hindus call the Age
of Chaos.
In 1987, while living in Holland, I imagined that by the year 2000
technology would have progressed to the point whereby it would be
possible arrive at an international airport, drop one’s luggage onto a
conveyor belt, and walk straight into an airplane, with hardly any
queuing or time wastage, thanks to a streamlined electronic passenger
processing system that would eliminate the inconvenience of paper
tickets, paper passports, inked stamps, and manual searches. By the
year 2007, however, by then acutely aware of how the world was
actually run, I imagined the exact opposite: more queues and more time
wastage than ever before, with multiple, overlapping, and
contradictory electronic passenger processing systems adding layers of
convolution where previously there had been none. I had no idea, 20
years before, that the politicians my parents’ tax money were funding
would cause security to become such an issue. "<<
Alex Kurtagic was born in 1970. He is the author of Mister (Iron Sky
Publishing, 2009) and the founder and director of Supernal Music.
Permanent link: http://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/authors/Kurtagic-Air.html
Alex Kurtagic
May 11, 2009
>>"I have travelled by air since the age of three, and since then I have averaged at least two flights a year, invariably to international destinations. I have lived in five different countries, both in the First and Third Worlds, located on both sides of the Atlantic. This means I have thirty-six years of experience as an international traveller, which makes me somewhat of an authority on how the global air travel experience has changed since the early 1970s.
Because we moved and flew so frequently during the 1970s, ‘80s, and
‘90s, I never really thought about the travel experience until after
September 11, 2001, when the heightened security measures both at the
airport and aboard the aircraft, made me take notice and begin
comparing present conditions with those of the past.
I have only vague recollections of my first flight, in December 1973,
and none of the flights to and from Texas in 1975–6, but I do know
they were not substantially different from the first one I remember
clearly, in July 1977. That year my parents sent me over to Europe to
spend 45 days with my maternal cousins, aunts, uncles, and
grandmother, who lived in France and Spain. As my parents were living
in Venezuela at the time, the flight over to Spain was an eight-hour
transatlantic journey aboard a Boeing 747, which took off at twilight
and landed at Barajas Airport in Madrid the following day.
TWA: The Good Old Days
It amazes me when I compare the size of Madrid Barajas in 1977 against
how it is today. In 1977, a time when the world population was 40%
smaller, it consisted of a single terminal, and it was possible for me
to stand by the conveyor belt at the baggage reclaim hall and see my
relatives waiting for me at the arrivals hall just beyond a pair of
clear glass sliding doors. The doors were not kilometers away, as is
the case in modern terminals, and the view was not blocked by walls,
barriers, antechambers, sinuous layouts, obscure surveillance booths,
or painted glass.
It amazes me even more when I think of how dinner was served aboard
the flight that took me there. Nowadays you might be lucky to get a
cold sandwich in a plastic bag, and if you do, you will likely have to
get your wallet out and pay for it with cash. The reason is, as we all
know, that the airlines have to protect themselves, because I might
well decide to stun a member of the cabin crew by slamming her in the
face with my plastic tray, stab her in the neck with my plastic fork,
or use my tiny plastic knife to cut the throats of any passengers who
may decide to wrestle me to the ground, before I detonate the plastic
explosives in my shoes to blow up everyone in the name of Allah.
Moreover, airlines, which have for years been locked in cutthroat
competition with one another (and particularly the cattle freighters
known as “budget airlines”), as well as been crippled by inflating
fuel and security costs, nowadays fly 0.527 femptometers above
bankruptcy; I must help them survive by upping my expenditure and
lowering my culinary expectations.
Dinner: Pan Am in the 1970s
In 1977 dinner was served hot, on a tray, and complete with full-sized
steel cutlery. Inside a foil container I found stewed beef and boiled
vegetables; and next to the container there was a round of bread,
crackers, cheese, butter, a fruit salad, and a slice of cake. All of
this was served free, as it was included in the price of the fare.
A smoking section was located some rows ahead of me, which meant that
I was l able to smell the cigarettes being smoked by my grown-up
travellers elsewhere inside the cabin. Travellers were allowed to
carry with them matches or kerosene-filled lighters, even though they
could have well decided to set fire to their seats in order to
generate confusion before detonating the plastic explosives in their
shoes to blow up everyone in the name of Allah.
I was allowed to carry a fair amount of hand luggage, including a box
of Legos. My parents could have well stuffed the insides of the pieces
with plastic explosives and instructed me to detonate them with a
match, to blow up everyone in the name of Allah.
Down at the departures terminal, security had consisted merely of my
being walked through the metal detector and having my hand luggage X-
rayed. It was not a problem if I passed through wearing a coat, even
though its pockets could have well been filled with designer drugs,
corrosive substances, doomsday virological weapons, or plastic
explosives.
Inconceivable today.
Since September 11, 2001, the original indignities introduced at
airport terminals have been gradually expanded, to the point where I
now have to take off my shoes, my belt, my watch, my coat, and my
jacket, as well as empty out all my pockets and put my change, my
keys, my telephone, and any book or laptop on a plastic tray so that
it can all be scrutinised under the X-ray machine — lest I have packed
them with plastic explosives. I prefer not to take shaving cream,
shampoo, deodorant, or toothpaste with me if I am travelling with hand
luggage only, as there are limitations on fluids, and I have seen
people being asked to take out all their toiletries and carry them in
a clear plastic bag so that they can be scrutinised under the X-ray
machine too — lest they have packed them with plastic explosives.
Despite my precautions and partial stripping, sometimes the metal
detector bleeps when I walk through it, and I am asked to stand with
my legs apart and my arms extended horizontally so that I can be
subjected to a detailed hand search and a new scan with a hand-held
metal detector by a police officer who thinks I might have a concealed
weapon and might be planning to kill my fellow passengers, hijack the
airplane, and order the pilot at gunpoint to land the Boeing 747 on
the 50th floor of the Sears Tower in Chicago.
And my wife tells me that, before boarding her flight to Sweden
recently, she had to endure a male police officer fondling her
breasts, lest they were being used to conceal lethal chemicals or
weapons of mass destruction.
Up until the 1990s, it was possible for me to arrive at Heathrow
Airport 45 minutes before take off and still have enough time to check
in, go through security, and board the aircraft before the gate was
closed. Now I know I will not make it unless I give myself at least
twice as long, as there are light years of queues at security and at
various points before boarding the aircraft the police will want to
check that I have not forged my identity or my travel documents, and
that I really have the right to be on the flight for which I claim to
have bought a ticket.
A government that I did not elect has told a media that scorns my
values that all these indignities, inconveniences, and restrictions
are for my protection, as there is an organization out there called al-
Quaeda that seeks to blow me to pieces the moment they get a chance. I
recollect hearing, seven or eight years ago, that this organization
sought to do so because its members “hated my freedom”. The motives
behind more recent operations by its members and those inspired by
them, such as the Madrid bombing of 2004 or the London bombing of
2005, however, have not been explained as fully. Apparently, the
government-media complex deems the degree of religiosity of the
attackers sufficient explanation: They are “Muslim extremists.”
The al-Quaeda leadership have long publicized an alternative
explanation: The problem, according to them, is the American
government’s foreign policy in the Middle East, whereby America’s
politicians, irrespective of age, race, gender, disability, or sexual
orientation, lend unwavering support to Israel, both financially,
technologically, and diplomatically, and effectively exempt the latter
from complying with dozens of UN resolutions and other aspects of
international law. Since al-Quaeda identifies with the Muslim
population whose country Israel wiped off the map, this makes the
United States a military target. And if countries besides the United
States have been attacked, it is because, by aping their peers across
the Atlantic, their governing politicians have made military targets
of the countries whose interests they were elected to protect.
This means that the reason I am forced to have my time wasted at the
airport, and the reason I am forced to subject myself to all manner of
indignities and intrusions at the hands of the police and the
intelligence service, including partial stripping; being filmed,
recorded, and databased; treated like a violent international
criminal; and having to eat with my hands, is that politicians I never
voted for (and whom most people scorned at the ballot box) have
decided, without consulting with me but at my expense, to vehemently
support an aggressive country that ignores laws that these same
politicians insist every country must rigorously observe. This also
means that were these politicians to withdraw their support for
Israel, I would be safer and my quality of life as an air traveller
would be higher.
Were it not for Mearsheimer and Walt’s The Israel Lobby and U.S.
Foreign Policy, I would have been very surprised by the pro-Israel
policy so staunchly pursued by Western politicians. Not only because
it yields zero benefits for their constituents, but also because
Israel’s very definition as a nation — which also happens to be a
major irritant for al-Quaeda — contradicts these same politicians’
professed belief in the benefits of multiculturalism and
multiracialism. After all, Israel was created as a Jewish state — by
Jews, for Jews — at the exclusion of all other cultures, races,
ethnicities, and religions. Were I to campaign for a White EU, by
Whites, for Whites, at the exclusion of all other cultures, races,
ethnicities, and non-indigenous religions, I would find that the
legislative changes instituted by successive waves of Western
politicians during recent decades have comprehensively removed any
legal sanctuary I might have had against persecution by individuals,
organizations, and bureaucracies committed to a multicultural view of
Europe.
Were it not for Mearsheimer and Walt’s monograph, I would have been
asking myself why Western politicians have been so spectacularly
remiss in bringing to Israel the good news of multiculturalism and
multiracialism. For, surely, if encouraging all humans to blend
together, from the civic down to the genetic level, is the means by
which inter-ethnic conflict will be ended, then the advent of
multiculturalism and multiracialism in Israel can only be good news
for that troubled country, and the essential ingredient in attaining
long-lasting peace and security in the region.
But because Mearsheimer and Walt’s monograph efficiently explains
these contradictions, I am not surprised. In the context of a powerful
Israel Lobby, it certainly makes a lot of practical sense for Western
politicians to worry about their careers and their reputations before
they worry about my safety and my comfort: After all, they don’t know
me, I am not related to them, I do not own hundreds of newspapers or
television channels with which I can exhibit their virtues (or their
vices) to the world, and I am not able to assist them in seeing the
merit of my point of view with a few strategic billion dollar
donations.
Patriotically standing up to such colossal power for the sake of
millions of strangers who can easily be pacified with ball games and
game shows; who can only cast a vote once every four or five years;
who are offered a strictly limited choice between interchangeable
candidates with nearly-identical political programs; who are
constantly monitored, recorded, regulated, and taxed at every single
level; who can be rapidly prosecuted and convicted for having a
dissenting opinion on the issues that really matter; and who often
will only notice the consequences of present-day policies decades down
the line, by which time the causes will have been forgotten —
patriotically standing up to such colossal power in this context, I
say, takes more cojones and integrity than can be reasonably expected
from the politicians of the Kali-Yuga — what the Hindus call the Age
of Chaos.
In 1987, while living in Holland, I imagined that by the year 2000
technology would have progressed to the point whereby it would be
possible arrive at an international airport, drop one’s luggage onto a
conveyor belt, and walk straight into an airplane, with hardly any
queuing or time wastage, thanks to a streamlined electronic passenger
processing system that would eliminate the inconvenience of paper
tickets, paper passports, inked stamps, and manual searches. By the
year 2007, however, by then acutely aware of how the world was
actually run, I imagined the exact opposite: more queues and more time
wastage than ever before, with multiple, overlapping, and
contradictory electronic passenger processing systems adding layers of
convolution where previously there had been none. I had no idea, 20
years before, that the politicians my parents’ tax money were funding
would cause security to become such an issue. "<<
Alex Kurtagic was born in 1970. He is the author of Mister (Iron Sky
Publishing, 2009) and the founder and director of Supernal Music.
Permanent link: http://www.theoccidentalobserver.net/authors/Kurtagic-Air.html