Speed trap

There’s a danger – one I keep being reminded of, acknowledging, repressing, being reminded of…. – in speed. For no better reason than accidents of neurobiology and perhaps early imprinting (I was there, but not as a particularly clued-up observer), I am quick.

And being quick can be a drug.  And drugs play a trick – they blind you to your own blindness…

There’s a scene in a good airline thriller called “Mayday,” written by Thomas Block and Nelson DeMille.  A fighter pilot who has made a boo-boo is shadowing a much slower – and crippled – supersonic jet liner.  He’s frustrated, and guilty and impossibly low on fuel.  And what he does haunts me – he climbs – climbs to the stratosphere, like Icarus.  Drunk on speed.

Next time on elliptical Dwight Towers: on the frequent and  inevitable (?) blindness of those In Power to tacit knowledge….



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