Clint Eastwood's new movie: Sully in the Hudson
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- Posts: 524
- Joined: Sun Aug 23, 2015 1:34 pm
As for Sully - sure job well done but at the end of the day all he had to do was hang on. There was no other choice and no other decision to be made and the luck of the draw prevailed. He slide that thing on and all was well. He was doing his job, I'm sure that's how he felt but people like heroes and airlines like good publicity so I imagine much to his chagrin he was sucked into the vortex. Hope he is going to get great money for the movie rights. America is not great for retired airline pilots these days.
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[quote author=Shiny link=topic=3911.msg10415#msg10415 date=1471018389]
Careful Dave, that sounds like some hateful, jealous talk, which apparently us Canadians are now known for.
[/quote]
I hope it's not a Canadian thing. It is definately an Internet thing. Go to YouTube and watch videos of people playing songs and read the comments. The player missed two notes or they have a riff slightly wrong and some jerk writes comments about how bad the whole performance is.
As for being jealous about the Colonal having money after being married. I don't get that either. I can see he worked for it so if a person wants to work hard for some money, just go do it.
I understand being jealous of those that are born into obscene wealth. You wish you were lucky too I guess. But what's the point of wasting emotions on something like that.
I never tried it but I doubt being jealous pays very well. Haters seem a bit sad too.
Careful Dave, that sounds like some hateful, jealous talk, which apparently us Canadians are now known for.
[/quote]
I hope it's not a Canadian thing. It is definately an Internet thing. Go to YouTube and watch videos of people playing songs and read the comments. The player missed two notes or they have a riff slightly wrong and some jerk writes comments about how bad the whole performance is.
As for being jealous about the Colonal having money after being married. I don't get that either. I can see he worked for it so if a person wants to work hard for some money, just go do it.
I understand being jealous of those that are born into obscene wealth. You wish you were lucky too I guess. But what's the point of wasting emotions on something like that.
I never tried it but I doubt being jealous pays very well. Haters seem a bit sad too.
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- Joined: Wed Apr 29, 2015 10:31 am
I'm not saying that Canadians are the only people in
the world that can be really unpleasant and jealous.
They're just really good at it.
Wasn't it Jeremy Clarkson who said that in the USA
when a Ferrari drove by, people said "Cool car". But
in the UK, when a Ferrari drove by, it made people
feel bad.
See what I mean about the British influence?
EDIT: Someone for all Canadians and Brits to hate:
[url=http://news.nationalpost.com/news/world ... estminster]http://news.nationalpost.com/news/world ... estminster[/url]
the world that can be really unpleasant and jealous.
They're just really good at it.
Wasn't it Jeremy Clarkson who said that in the USA
when a Ferrari drove by, people said "Cool car". But
in the UK, when a Ferrari drove by, it made people
feel bad.
See what I mean about the British influence?
EDIT: Someone for all Canadians and Brits to hate:
[url=http://news.nationalpost.com/news/world ... estminster]http://news.nationalpost.com/news/world ... estminster[/url]
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- Joined: Thu Jun 09, 2016 6:38 pm
The guy who's military service during the Korean War was being a swim instructor stateside and who had a televised argument with a chair has some nerve to say anything about 'pussification'.
Those were movies he was in, not real life. People seem to forget the difference. Pretty much every other acusation in this thread is similarly fabricated.
Those were movies he was in, not real life. People seem to forget the difference. Pretty much every other acusation in this thread is similarly fabricated.
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- Joined: Wed Apr 29, 2015 10:31 am
I am pretty sure that not 1 in 1000 schoolchildren
could tell you whom objectively is Canada's greatest
fighter pilot of the last three-quarters of a century.
I sure hope you know it's George Beurling, who's
body was left to rot overseas by the scummy
Canadian government.
If a poll was conducted of Canadians, I suspect
their vote for the greatest Canadian ever would
be that kid that lost his leg to cancer. You know,
the biggest victim.
Sad. Canada used to be a country of kick-ass
farm boys that the world feared. 100 years ago.
Somewhere along the way, things went horribly
wrong.
could tell you whom objectively is Canada's greatest
fighter pilot of the last three-quarters of a century.
I sure hope you know it's George Beurling, who's
body was left to rot overseas by the scummy
Canadian government.
If a poll was conducted of Canadians, I suspect
their vote for the greatest Canadian ever would
be that kid that lost his leg to cancer. You know,
the biggest victim.
Sad. Canada used to be a country of kick-ass
farm boys that the world feared. 100 years ago.
Somewhere along the way, things went horribly
wrong.
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- Joined: Wed Jun 03, 2015 3:00 pm
I was planning a long winded joke about Sir, Hugh Richard Louis Grosvenor being a Duke, a part of the mighty monarchy and high above us, commanding the upmost respect unless you are a Sex Pistol disciple.
But now I see you hating on Terry. The guy hopped across the country with Cancer until it took him out. Back when having Cancer, was even worse than having Cancer now.
While I might not consider that heroic, I sure don't believe it's the action of a "victim". You paint it like his mom drove him while he drank slurpees in the back of the mini van and complained while going through areas where there were not enough 7-11s.
But now I see you hating on Terry. The guy hopped across the country with Cancer until it took him out. Back when having Cancer, was even worse than having Cancer now.
While I might not consider that heroic, I sure don't believe it's the action of a "victim". You paint it like his mom drove him while he drank slurpees in the back of the mini van and complained while going through areas where there were not enough 7-11s.
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- Posts: 3450
- Joined: Wed Apr 29, 2015 10:31 am
I'm not hating on anyone, though I can see I am
discussing things which make people feel uncomfortable,
and they would really prefer they not be talked about
because it makes them look bad.
I am amused that some of the posters here are even
denying that history occurred as described on the wiki.
Clearly some grand conspiracy is afoot. I am reminded
of Holocaust deniers. Yes, it happened. No, you can't
rewrite unpleasant history because it makes you feel bad.
As far as the greatest Canadian: how about Fred Banting?
Or heck, Jim Naismith? I would wager that not one in a
million Canadians know who both of these guys were.
And it's sure interesting as to why, when a Canadian does
something notable, he's shit, torn down, and quickly forgotten.
Canadians excel at inventing excuses as to why they crap
on achievers.
Why isn't the first Monday in August Fred Banting Day? Or
Max Aitken Day?
Let me guess: no one here knows who Max Aitken was.
Sigh.
Spot the pattern?
discussing things which make people feel uncomfortable,
and they would really prefer they not be talked about
because it makes them look bad.
I am amused that some of the posters here are even
denying that history occurred as described on the wiki.
Clearly some grand conspiracy is afoot. I am reminded
of Holocaust deniers. Yes, it happened. No, you can't
rewrite unpleasant history because it makes you feel bad.
As far as the greatest Canadian: how about Fred Banting?
Or heck, Jim Naismith? I would wager that not one in a
million Canadians know who both of these guys were.
And it's sure interesting as to why, when a Canadian does
something notable, he's shit, torn down, and quickly forgotten.
Canadians excel at inventing excuses as to why they crap
on achievers.
Why isn't the first Monday in August Fred Banting Day? Or
Max Aitken Day?
Let me guess: no one here knows who Max Aitken was.
Sigh.
Spot the pattern?
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- Posts: 252
- Joined: Sun Aug 14, 2016 12:44 am
[quote author=Colonel Sanders link=topic=3911.msg10405#msg10405 date=1470983042]
Clint Eastwood was right - a pussy generation.
A pussy generation that shamelessly rolls aircraft
up into a ball, then has the gall to talk about their
"learning experience" at their next job interview.[/quote]
From an airline pilot point of view, this pretty much tells it the way it was compared to the way it is now for those who believe so,
"WHEN MEN WERE MEN AND 707s ROAMED THE EARTH
The Age of the 707
That smoke was from the 1,700 pounds of water injection the J-57s used for takeoff. (Go to the runway overrun and suck the gear up).
Those were the good ole days. Pilots back then were men that didn't want to be women or girly men. Pilots all knew who Jimmy Doolittle was. Pilots drank coffee, whiskey, smoked cigars and didn't wear digital watches.
They carried their own suitcases and brain bags, like the real men they were. Pilots didn't bend over into the crash position multiple times each day in front of the passengers at security so that some Gov't agent could probe for tweezers or fingernail clippers or too much toothpaste.
Pilots did not go through the terminal impersonating a caddy pulling a bunch of golf clubs, computers, guitars, and feed bags full of tofu and granola on a sissy-trailer with no hat and granny glasses hanging on a pink string around their pencil neck while talking to their personal trainer on the cell phone!!!
Being an airline Captain was as good as being the King in a Mel Brooks movie. All the Stewardesses (aka. Flight Attendants) were young, attractive, single women that were proud to be combatants in the sexual revolution. They didn't have to turn sideways, grease up and suck it in to get through the cockpit door. They would blush, and say thank you, when told that they looked good, instead of filing a sexual harassment claim.
Junior Stewardesses shared a room and talked about men.... with no thoughts of substitution. Passengers wore nice clothes and were polite; they could speak AND understand English. They didn't speak gibberish or listen to loud gangsta rap on their IPods. They bathed and didn't smell in their jogging suit and flip-flops. Children didn't travel alone, commuting between trailer parks. There were no fatso’s asking for a seatbelt extension and a free second seat or a Scotch and grapefruit juice cocktail with a twist. If the Captain wanted to throw some offensive, ranting jerk off the airplane, it was done without any worries of a lawsuit or getting fired.
Axial flow engines crackled with the sound of freedom and left an impressive black smoke trail like a locomotive burning soft coal. Jet fuel was cheap and once the throttles were pushed up they were left there. After all, it was the jet age and the idea was to go fast (run like a lizard on a hardwood floor). No tree huggers made claims that the dollar a gallon gas burning up the earth. "Economy cruise" was something in the performance book, but no one knew why or where it was. When the clacker went off, no one got all tight and scared because Boeing built it out of iron. Nothing was going to fall off and that sound had the same effect on real pilots then, as Viagra does now for these new age guys.
Communication over the oceans was by crackling long range HF, when it worked instead of pushbutton satellite communication operated by lifetime button pushers. Navigation wasn’t with GPS exact position updates following a pansy-assed magenta line from departure to destination. Star shots were still taken in the day when pilots could actually identify more than just the moon in the night sky. Doppler radar was used along with long range ADF’s which were identified by crews who knew their Morse code and could decipher it in the background of static noise.
The black and white radar did not have autoscan with a no-need to touch control panel and required interpretation to avoid the weather. It didn’t have pretty colours and pilots didn’t need pretty colours to be able to tell where the bad weather was. And there was no Terrain display or GPWS to save your ass if you went off course toward a mountain.
The old 707 with its manual flight controls actually took muscle power to land in a 30 knot crosswind. Flying was a physical activity by men with muscles. A hairy chest seemed like a standard prerequisite to be able to handle the machine, not something to be shaved by those operating a weenie two-finger required sidestick.
There was very little plastic and no composites on the airplanes (or the Stewardesses' pectoral regions for that matter). Airplanes and women had eye-pleasing symmetrical curves, not a bunch of ugly vortex generators, ventral fins, winglets, flow diverters, tattoos, rings in their nose, tongues and eyebrows.
Airlines were run by men like C.R. Smith, Juan Trippe, and Bob Six, who had built their companies virtually from scratch, knew most of their employees by name, and were lifetime airline employees themselves....not pseudo financiers and bean counters who flit from one occupation to another for a few bucks, a better parachute or a fancier title, while fervently believing that they are a class of beings unto themselves.
And so it was back then....and never will be again!
Clint Eastwood was right - a pussy generation.
A pussy generation that shamelessly rolls aircraft
up into a ball, then has the gall to talk about their
"learning experience" at their next job interview.[/quote]
From an airline pilot point of view, this pretty much tells it the way it was compared to the way it is now for those who believe so,
"WHEN MEN WERE MEN AND 707s ROAMED THE EARTH
The Age of the 707
That smoke was from the 1,700 pounds of water injection the J-57s used for takeoff. (Go to the runway overrun and suck the gear up).
Those were the good ole days. Pilots back then were men that didn't want to be women or girly men. Pilots all knew who Jimmy Doolittle was. Pilots drank coffee, whiskey, smoked cigars and didn't wear digital watches.
They carried their own suitcases and brain bags, like the real men they were. Pilots didn't bend over into the crash position multiple times each day in front of the passengers at security so that some Gov't agent could probe for tweezers or fingernail clippers or too much toothpaste.
Pilots did not go through the terminal impersonating a caddy pulling a bunch of golf clubs, computers, guitars, and feed bags full of tofu and granola on a sissy-trailer with no hat and granny glasses hanging on a pink string around their pencil neck while talking to their personal trainer on the cell phone!!!
Being an airline Captain was as good as being the King in a Mel Brooks movie. All the Stewardesses (aka. Flight Attendants) were young, attractive, single women that were proud to be combatants in the sexual revolution. They didn't have to turn sideways, grease up and suck it in to get through the cockpit door. They would blush, and say thank you, when told that they looked good, instead of filing a sexual harassment claim.
Junior Stewardesses shared a room and talked about men.... with no thoughts of substitution. Passengers wore nice clothes and were polite; they could speak AND understand English. They didn't speak gibberish or listen to loud gangsta rap on their IPods. They bathed and didn't smell in their jogging suit and flip-flops. Children didn't travel alone, commuting between trailer parks. There were no fatso’s asking for a seatbelt extension and a free second seat or a Scotch and grapefruit juice cocktail with a twist. If the Captain wanted to throw some offensive, ranting jerk off the airplane, it was done without any worries of a lawsuit or getting fired.
Axial flow engines crackled with the sound of freedom and left an impressive black smoke trail like a locomotive burning soft coal. Jet fuel was cheap and once the throttles were pushed up they were left there. After all, it was the jet age and the idea was to go fast (run like a lizard on a hardwood floor). No tree huggers made claims that the dollar a gallon gas burning up the earth. "Economy cruise" was something in the performance book, but no one knew why or where it was. When the clacker went off, no one got all tight and scared because Boeing built it out of iron. Nothing was going to fall off and that sound had the same effect on real pilots then, as Viagra does now for these new age guys.
Communication over the oceans was by crackling long range HF, when it worked instead of pushbutton satellite communication operated by lifetime button pushers. Navigation wasn’t with GPS exact position updates following a pansy-assed magenta line from departure to destination. Star shots were still taken in the day when pilots could actually identify more than just the moon in the night sky. Doppler radar was used along with long range ADF’s which were identified by crews who knew their Morse code and could decipher it in the background of static noise.
The black and white radar did not have autoscan with a no-need to touch control panel and required interpretation to avoid the weather. It didn’t have pretty colours and pilots didn’t need pretty colours to be able to tell where the bad weather was. And there was no Terrain display or GPWS to save your ass if you went off course toward a mountain.
The old 707 with its manual flight controls actually took muscle power to land in a 30 knot crosswind. Flying was a physical activity by men with muscles. A hairy chest seemed like a standard prerequisite to be able to handle the machine, not something to be shaved by those operating a weenie two-finger required sidestick.
There was very little plastic and no composites on the airplanes (or the Stewardesses' pectoral regions for that matter). Airplanes and women had eye-pleasing symmetrical curves, not a bunch of ugly vortex generators, ventral fins, winglets, flow diverters, tattoos, rings in their nose, tongues and eyebrows.
Airlines were run by men like C.R. Smith, Juan Trippe, and Bob Six, who had built their companies virtually from scratch, knew most of their employees by name, and were lifetime airline employees themselves....not pseudo financiers and bean counters who flit from one occupation to another for a few bucks, a better parachute or a fancier title, while fervently believing that they are a class of beings unto themselves.
And so it was back then....and never will be again!
And before the 707 we flew the DC6 a real pilots airplane where you actually had to think to set power...oh for the days of BMEP.
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