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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, ants, 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.

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.

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