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Sunday, February 5, 2017

How 200 vehicle pileups happen.



During this past week we have had to contend with thick fog across the country here in Spain. Naturally driving has been fraught with danger. Most of my fellow drivers got the message to moderate our speed as in places visibility was down to less than 50 metres. I know this because when approaching an exit and you pass the markers that count down from 300 metres to 200, and then to 100, when I passed the 300 metres sign there was no indication that there was another sign ahead.

It is a weird feeling when you are in a situation like that. At times you seem to be all alone in the world as you are socked in on all sides by solid mist, not that you get much time to be looking around you.

On the motorway I was cruising at about a maximum of 80 kph, as were most people but those monsters who walk around with excrement where their brains are supposed to be were passing us at speeds ranging anywhere from 120kph on up. They would come out of the mist and then they were gone in a flash. They could no more see where they were going than I could. All it would have taken would have been for one vehicle up ahead to get into trouble and the pileup would have begun. Once it gets started it would have a mind all its own. When would it end? Only Heaven knows. I have no idea of how it would stop.

While we can see how easy it is to start something like that happening the question persists, why even take the chance?

That person who thought he had to drive so fast and risk us all, was he thinking I'm late for an appointment and I'm in a hurry? A hurry to get to his death? There is a lot of truth in the old saying, more haste, less speed. If we leave home when we do, so that we have to make up time on the road, you lazy bastard, next time get out of your bed earlier and give yourself adequate time to arrive safely and without putting other people at risk.

If I were controller of the Universe I would swoop down and snatch your speeding car from the road and I would crush your car with you inside. You are an irresponsible shithead and you have no place among decent and reasonable people.

So, be my guest, go kill yourself by running into a very stout tree.

Copyright (c) 2017
Eugene Carmichael