Time flies, and through the ages
Wise men wondered where it went.
Though wise, these many sages
Found not where – nor what it meant.Â
They would, if they had flown
In unison have shown
Time flies into all those Pratt & Whitneys
While you try to find a way to sit, knees
Jammed into a seat
Oh, let me repeat
Time gets burned up in those Pratt & Whitneys
While they serve you something fat with chick peas,
Make you watch that silly film with Britney’s
Road trip ‘cross the states –
My, how that creates
A roar in my ear and a buzz in my brain –
Attempts to find sleep are now fully in vain.Â
In stupor I languish, to torpor succumb –
I know it, too, will pass…
So why did philosophers not figure out
What I have discovered without any doubt:
That time flies to end up quite undignified,
Sucked up by a jet to be Pratt-Whitney-fried.
I’ve got an idea that isn’t too dumb:
Wise men fly business class.Â
Â
I love it! (Apologies to John Stackhouse.)
It made me think of George MacDonald’s musings on viewing the world from the top of a mountain, and what insights it gave him into God’s character. I’m guessing the wise men would not even be noticing the cramped seats and Britney Spears and the food, in their awe and amazement at looking out the window and seeing the world from above. But to the Google Earth generation this is nothing special.
Thanks! Methinks that in an aisle seat even a philosopher would notice the adverse situation, unless he becomes part of it and makes his window-seat neighbor notice him.