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Dying in a Plane Crash (I did not write this)

I did not write this, but it made me laugh so hard that I knocked a pile of papers off my desk. Therefore, I thought I would share.

I have a recurring dream about dying in a plane crash. In fact, I had one last night. It’s happened so much I feel that I’m as much an expert in dying in plane crashes as any living being can be. I’m not superstitious. I’m not afraid to fly. But on the off-hand chance this dream turns prophetic, I feel qualified enough to make a request for anyone unfortunate enough to be on that plane with me…

I don’t mind the idea of dying in a plane crash. In my dreams, I’ve done it a thousand times under a thousand different conditions. In most instances, death is instantaneous and painless. The thing that does bother me is what happens during that final plummet. Yes it’s terrifying. But please, for the love of God, what’s with the screaming? I understand you’re frightened. I understand you don’t want to die. I’m coming to terms with that myself as is every other passenger on that plane. But while I’m facing my imminent demise looking out the window in absolute silence and stunned horror, you’re ruining the last few moments of everyone else’s existence with your incessant shrill chimpanzee-like shrieking.

You’re going to die. Of what possible use is a last-minute vocal exercise going to serve other than to completely annoy everyone around you and make a terrible situation even more unbearable? We are all in shock. Our sense of time slows and our senses become sharper. Now is not the time to be yelling. I’m not a religious man; but I don’t mind if you pray. I might even hold your hand. But please keep it within an acceptable decibel level. If your God is real, he isn’t hard of hearing, and he’s most certainly aware that the plane is going down. He apparently has a plan, and he’s not going to change his mind on the basis of how loud you beg him to alter it. Besides, you have an eternal life to look forward to. Look at me… I’m an atheist, and I’m keeping my mouth shut. Superman doesn’t exist, so I’m hoping you’re not calling for him. Anyone who can help you is already busy trying.

All I’m asking for a bit of reverence so we may die in dignity. If you treat it like a fucking roller coaster, I swear I’m going to punch you square in the kisser for depriving me of this… and I’m pretty sure I’ll get away with it.


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