August 22nd, 2006


Generate Me Limply

Steve Harley, of Cockney Rebel (fame?), is apparently no friend of the gypsy. His thoughts concerning recent changes in baggage airplane regulations aren't exactly revelatory either. For a while, it seemed as if you wouldn't even be able to buy a book portside at the airport and despite the increase in flight boredom being without reading material of your own choice, I could imagine those retail areas closing up. Never mind the Four Horsemen appearing, the cessation of retail activity is what would persuade many people that the end was nigh. No shopping, soon enough no smoking. Only a containing warren of halls and corridors for observation systems to crunch the numbers and faces before you board the flight. Faces pressed against the glass, peering in at dusty malt scotches, cardboard promotional cutouts of Kelly Osbourne, outsize Toblerones. "This, my son, was England." Past Times as our sealed Blue Peter time capsule. Soon enough, you'll need to piss into a detector before boarding, either for sampling purposes or to guard against the danger that when two urines [sic] are mixed they might just form an explosive precursor chemical. As the two men of Monarch ZB613 discovered recently, make sure you don't do anything unusual when flying, like repeatedly looking at your watch and wondering just how much longer any of this is going on.

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