Saturday, June 03, 2006
Mayday! Mayday!
My new-found belief in Fluid Mech notwithstanding, I still find it difficult to reconcile myself to the idea of flying high on ATF.
I mean, look at the possibilities.
# There could be a bunch of crazed mullahs on board hell bent on crashing the plane into where no man ever has - Universal Studios.
# While taking off, the plane could go vertical and keel over in a spectacular somersault (the pilot may have a flying licence from Bihar where they only talk radians and gradians instead of degrees).
# While banking to the right or left, the plane could flip over (my belief in rotational dynamics and its concepts related to the moment of inertia is, unfortunately, not quite at the fluid mech level yet).
# Need I say more?
# While landing, the tyres could burst (believe me, they DON'T make rubber the way they used to). Even if they don't burst, there could be an earthquake on the runway.
# The pilot could be somebody who's been passed over for a promotion four times, divorced, infected with HIV, bankrupt AND, on top of everything, blessed with recalcitrant dandruff.
# The Islamic (and C**tpataak) Republic of Puke-i-stan may well decide to test the Shaheen on a live target (this is the least of the risks because these guys are yet to perfect the art of topo [1]).
# The wings could come loose and fall off (I keep telling the morons to use Fevicol).
# There could be a massive attack by a plague of locusts and a murder of crows to avenge their fallen friends, victims to the international airline industry (Doubting Thomases, watch this).
# While flying over Nashville, Tennessee, the belly of the plane may give way to Baba's substantial (intellectual) weight, thus re-uniting him with his redneck disciples down below.
# The plane could be picked up by a Martian tractor beam or it could have its ass kicked by lightning.
# While flying through a sea of clouds, it wouldn't be a great time to discover that not ALL clouds are made of ice crystals and water vapour.
# The beautiful air hostess will, inevitably, fancy Baba. But she might have an ice pick.
The heights of air -
Baba does not dare.
Let Baba stand
On holy land.
[1] - topo is the ancient and sublime art of doing Ctrl-C / Ctrl-V, and then making sure nobody knows it was a Ctrl-C / Ctrl-V in the first place. The topoing skills of the Puki defence research establishment leaves a lot to be desired though.
Management Class : Meandering thoughts of a fickle mind
I mean, look at the possibilities.
# There could be a bunch of crazed mullahs on board hell bent on crashing the plane into where no man ever has - Universal Studios.
# While taking off, the plane could go vertical and keel over in a spectacular somersault (the pilot may have a flying licence from Bihar where they only talk radians and gradians instead of degrees).
# While banking to the right or left, the plane could flip over (my belief in rotational dynamics and its concepts related to the moment of inertia is, unfortunately, not quite at the fluid mech level yet).
# Need I say more?
# While landing, the tyres could burst (believe me, they DON'T make rubber the way they used to). Even if they don't burst, there could be an earthquake on the runway.
# The pilot could be somebody who's been passed over for a promotion four times, divorced, infected with HIV, bankrupt AND, on top of everything, blessed with recalcitrant dandruff.
# The Islamic (and C**tpataak) Republic of Puke-i-stan may well decide to test the Shaheen on a live target (this is the least of the risks because these guys are yet to perfect the art of topo [1]).
# The wings could come loose and fall off (I keep telling the morons to use Fevicol).
# There could be a massive attack by a plague of locusts and a murder of crows to avenge their fallen friends, victims to the international airline industry (Doubting Thomases, watch this).
# While flying over Nashville, Tennessee, the belly of the plane may give way to Baba's substantial (intellectual) weight, thus re-uniting him with his redneck disciples down below.
# The plane could be picked up by a Martian tractor beam or it could have its ass kicked by lightning.
# While flying through a sea of clouds, it wouldn't be a great time to discover that not ALL clouds are made of ice crystals and water vapour.
# The beautiful air hostess will, inevitably, fancy Baba. But she might have an ice pick.
The heights of air -
Baba does not dare.
Let Baba stand
On holy land.
[1] - topo is the ancient and sublime art of doing Ctrl-C / Ctrl-V, and then making sure nobody knows it was a Ctrl-C / Ctrl-V in the first place. The topoing skills of the Puki defence research establishment leaves a lot to be desired though.
Management Class : Meandering thoughts of a fickle mind
mental baba 10:09 PM
gr8 blog man..... loved it
|jai| : welcome to baba's ashram and thanks for your appreciation!
baba ka katora
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