Going down fast

I've mentioned several times that I have a fear of flying. You know what that all boils down to?

You're strapped into a metal tube that may or may not be falling 39.000 feet or so to the ground. Dropping like a stone, maybe. And you're sitting there in your uncomfortable seat, more or less bound to the seat. The pilot maybe making a feeble attempt to be make reassuring sounds over the intercom while the stewardi also buckle themselves in and occasionally exchange terrified looks with each other when they believe the passengers can't see them.

We are going down pretty damn fast. Maybe the pilot's drunk or something? Maybe there's a loony-toons hate-crazed muslim standing behind him with a box cutter. Maybe he's a shit-for-brains leftist hell-bent on destroying the whole world. Allahu Akbar and all that kind of bullshit.

Who knows? But you're strapped into this thing, and it's going down fast.

Not a Goddamn thing you can do.

Until the next election.

Save the Republic.