Brightly Visible, Yet Unnoticed, Right Above Our Heads

It happens every time I watch the sky, and I do try to make a habit of doing that at least once a day. Every time I try to decipher the atmosphere’s present convulsions, every time I’m eager to have my earth bound existence lightened by a somewhat more ample perspective, every time I simply want to enjoy the tranquillising blue haze above me, every time I am struck in awe by the outstanding beauty of ever-changing cloud formations that boil away into the higher atmosphere, every time I do this, I have my view contaminated with the puffy contrails of commercial jets zipping across the sky.

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While I am observing these cloud formations, trying to make sense of their chaotic uniqueness and creating unsuccessful models of the underlying dynamics of boiling air, I am enthralled by their magnificent orderliness. Things seem to happen linear and synchronized in an environment that happily allows for so many perfectly embedded exceptions. But what can all this beauty do when slurry lines of jet exhaust cross it out like marked by a mad teacher’s hand on the blackboard of Mr. Common man?

As you see, I could go on and on while my anger is building, but the bone of contention here, and my point of attack, is that every time I look up at the sky I have my view contaminated with the obnoxious contrails of at least five jets hasting across the sky.

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I might have a tendency every now and then to exaggerate and decorate my thoughts with bloomy ornamentations, rummaging around with rococo rosaries and rattling back and forth with illogical emotional outbursts, but for once there is not the slightest trace of exaggeration in my description! At any given time of day or night, and I guess at any given place in central Europe, when you direct your gaze upwards towards the heavens you will find four to ten jet planes navigating their very linear ways across your visual field from one point of the horizon to the other. They have created a jagged network of white streaks that starts out with the typical linear precision of most modern human intentions, and then slowly washes out with wavy and curvy slithers before ending up in a milky haze, all this of course depending on the degree of turbulence in the upper atmosphere.

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Just to underline my point, let us do some mental gymnastics that will help us understand some of its underlying economics. Imagine an average number of passengers sitting in each airplane. With this you get a vague idea of the sizeable dimension of this petrol burning madness, certainly in terms of resource occupation. Let’s say there are 150 passengers on 10 planes at an average ticket price of 200 Euros. This would make for a whopping 300’000 Euros of economic liquidity cruising the jet streams and emitting puffy featherings of cotton candy condensation from hot exhaust gases from burning highly refined petroleum. If I remember correctly the last time the heavens were for sale, Europe was still wrapped up in the Dark Ages, and some hot-headed monk came upon the brilliant idea of selling real estate in the afterlife! And there it is again, happening right up above our heads! Mankind yet again at its very best, in its latest and greatest act of self-sabotage, seemingly intent to block the very light of the sun, the source of all live, from reaching the surface of the earth?

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But if you thought that such obvious a signal from above would cause general outrage, you see yourself proven wrong by reality. As a matter of fact I seem to be once more one lonely Don Quixote angrily fighting windmills that unfortunately are invisible to my peers. I have yet to meet a person who is equally appalled by this constant attack on our aesthetic considerations. Most everybody shrugs their shoulders when confronted with my angry description of this aerial pollution. Apparently people are either absolutely oblivious or totally accustomed to it.

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It is a daunting question, that nagging wormlike wondering about what to do with the monstrous technological delirium tremens we have maneuvered ourselves into. It literally seems to squeeze the life out of our bones and it pulls that well-treaded rag right out and away from under our feet. All of a sudden we find ourselves free floating with exactly as much insurance coverage as our noble forbearers had, those who lived on the edge of a cliff overlooking the landscape, with only a humid cave as a very limited safe heaven behind them. Has this progress been leading us in the opposite direction we had been promised?

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Just in case you needed a wisdom quote after contemplating such programmed injustice, there’s a wisdom quote to keep you on good tracks:

The King of Love expands about violence

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2 Responses to “Brightly Visible, Yet Unnoticed, Right Above Our Heads”

  1. Beatriz Restrepo Says:

    I hope the sky and our see still not for sell. We are litle by little destroying the earth already… Nice article as always 🙂

  2. Mayors from all over the world at the Vatican to talk about climate change | Marcus Ampe's Space Says:

    […] Brightly Visible, Yet Unnoticed, Right Above Our Heads […]

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