Air travel is miserable. You're herded, shouted at, hemmed in, and—if lucky—placated with sugared water and the cheapest feed available in mass quantities. Even the corn syrup that once "honey-roasted" your peanuts is too exotic for your airborne enjoyment these days.

I'm no engineer, but I know this: If personal electronics could bring down a plane, Al Quaeda would just assign a pack of assholes to send simultaneous text messages from the next flight out of Jerusalem.