What a time to be alive.

Surviving the end of the Cold War, the hysterical hype of Y2K, an economy-crashing pandemic and now about to experience a likely start of WW3. We sure are living in interesting times, though that proverb was never meant as a compliment for the receiving end.

And while the elites are throwing degenerate parties on private islands and starting wars for obscene amounts of profit, I’m honestly quite happy making an honest living flying airplanes and sharing my views with the world, while being paid and occasionally seeing ballistic fireworks literally fly past my wings with a fresh brew of coffee in hand. Hey ho, who said flying an airliner is boring?

Then suddenly, something beautiful drops in quite unexpectedly: the recent movie Project Hail Mary. I’ve not yet had the chance to fully read the original hard-science fiction novel by Andy Weir, but the movie positively surprised me in multiple ways. Not only is it visually stunning, with, in my eyes, a balanced story and just the right touch of light-hearted humour against a very grim thesis, it also manages to convey a sense of optimism despite the dark background of impending doom and death for planet Earth. Perhaps unintended, but I think this is the right movie at just the right time.

A story built on imminent extinction, yet carried by curiosity… and something strangely human in the face of it all.

Fun fact I learned yesterday: the fascinating ‘cockpit’ of the fictional spaceship Hail Mary was designed and largely inspired by the cockpit layout, display and synoptic philosophy of the Boeing 747-400 and -8. Well, if they plan on building interstellar spaceships based on the technical specifics of both variants of the Boeing 747s, you can count me in for the ride of a lifetime. I’ve got a valid type rating and a significant amount of hours on both, hint hint.
Amaze! Amaze! Amaze!

So, if you feel a dreaded sense of doom while watching the news these days:
“This is happy! Your face opening is in sad mode. Why, question?”

Maybe it’s not about ignoring what’s happening below, but remembering there’s still absolute beauty and, most of all, hope above it.