These flying metal cargo coffins are quite simply one of the safest most dangerous ways to travel. People always say flying is the safest way to travel and that you're more likely to crash on the way to an airport than to be in a plane crash. That's all dandy, I mean, how often is there crashes in Ireland really? Oh wait, all the TIME. But there is one key difference between a car accident and a plane crash, let me illustrate with this video:
It's called playing a little game of "Chances of Survival". I think even the first air plane crash of the video illustrates what I'm talking about. Just parking the f@&king thing proves to be a life or death situation, at least when I'm in my friends car when he's parking we're not going to drive into a goddam jungle and explode. On top of that you're sitting in this confined space with probably 50 other strangers screaming in your face while thinking "I wish I got to see Batman 3" *sad face* before becoming a gravity pancake with a topping of flaming petroleum (the only way this could be possibly more terrifying is if the Hollyoaks theme song played over all of it). Now, I'm not gonna lie....
...Good, I'm glad we got that out of the way!
Anyways, I actually used to be quite calm on planes but unfortunately for me, the National Geographic Channel decided that when I was 17 years old it was as good as any time to unleash Air Crash Investigation into my naive little World. It was like watching CSI about planes (without gingers), it was addictive, it was frightening, it was mysterious and then it finally hit me all at once after watching 20 episodes: it was REAL. Then the reality of the show really hit home when I was on a plane to London (which is only a one hour flight) that I was able to pinpoint every moment of my flight where I could potentially, you know, DIE. Air pocket = Plane falling for a couple of hundred meters, calm air hostess = where's my f@&king parachute, plane turning = go more than 60 degrees and we'll resemble something of an overcooked Irish breakfast within minutes. Indeed it was a confined smelly demon (a fart?) flight that day.
Now, I kicked my ACI addiction after while because it was doing me no good service (sort of like UPC: NTL Internet/TV/Everything), but then it turns out, plane crashes had become a hit phenomenon on television shows anyways. Did you ever see that episode of LOST, I think it was saaaaaaay, the FIRST GODDAM EPISODE? The plane decided to take a break mid way through it's flight, quite literally sending passengers cascading into a confused writers most cherished mistake. Then there was a film that decided to enact being in the fracking explosion:
Even worse was that I was compelled to actually sit and watch these, as I reckon it is my fate at this point that it will happen to me. Although when the time finally comes and the plane nose dives, I think I'll laugh, make a gigantic crap in my pants and start tickling the person next to me, I'd be screaming "fate you penis, you finally found me hahahaha!". And I know it will be at this moment fate will go "hold on a minute, he's enjoying this!?" and fate will super street fighter uppercut the plane and the flight will return to normal. And I will be sitting there, my laughter slowly dying away, and a probable new restraining order staring me in the face and on top of it all I will have a giant crap in my pants. At which point I will realise that I have ironically become the most terrifying thing on the flight, stupid fate.
I think, in the end, the main thing I'm trying to tell everyone here is probably this: Don't fly with Seán O'Beirn.
And don't watch Hollyoaks.
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