But what do we all know? We're just pilots.

Well, I could pull out my Mensa card, but of course that doesn't show
anything, does it?


Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth
And danced the pixelated skies on digitally-rendered wings;
Sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split digits and simulated a hundred things
You have not dreamed of - installed and booted and simmed
High in the bedroom silence, sitting there
I've chased the shouting frame-rates along, and flung
my eager floppy disks from my Frito-covered chair
download, download the long delirous hacks and mods
I've programmed Function Keys with easy grace
What no real pilots ever do
And, while with unsilent addled mind I've trod
the high untresspassed similuated sanctity of MSFSX
Released my joystick and touched the display on my monitor.