9 to 5 survival guide - part four

a is for awesome, b is for badass - n

You know what naps are? Great. They’re just the best.

Plus, they’re totally badass now. They’re called power naps. They’re for powerful people, not just lazy, degenerate losers. Because sleep often gets a bad rap. It’s like – where’s Simon? He went home to get an early night? What a loser. Sleeping isn’t fun, and we’re all having fun here bitching about Simon being a loser for needing sleep like a normal human.

I’m totally with you, guys bitching about Simon, by the way. Sleep isn’t fun. And don’t even get me started on dreams. But poor Simon, whoever he is, never invited all his backstabbing mates over for a thrilling 8 hours of lying down. He’s not trying to convert anyone – he’s just doing what his normal, non-robot body needs. Do the same bunch of turncoats get on at James for eating organic carrots? “Oh that James is always eating organic carrots, what a loser” – no-one says that.

And lots of things aren’t fun, but are necessary – like recycling. No-one pretends they enjoy a good bit of rinsing out their empty plastic bottles, or sorting paper and card. But the sensible ones get on and do it. And sleep is a bit like that. We need it. We don’t really know why, yet. Theoretically, with enough fuel, a machine can run continuously – so if we eat enough, we should be able to forgo sleep, altogether. That’s the theory, and like many great theories it has only one flaw – it’s completely wrong and we die.

We die without sleep. Within a few days, if a human is unable to fall asleep their brain pretty much explodes and they die. I don’t want to worry everyone who finds it hard to get to sleep, because the high stakes of the situation may not induce a feeling of calm and relaxation. Really, though, just being alive is a sign that some sleep is being achieved. So take heart – you’re not dead.  

But this installment of a is for awesome, b is for badass is not t – for tangent, so let’s get back on track. Napping, snoozing, if you will, is epic. And now it’s cool, because some scientists (which are also cool) did some research that suggests that napping is not a sign of being a lazy good-for-nothing who can’t handle the hectic pace of modern life, but actually a super-cool way to recharge. Like  a smoothie.  

Taking a nap is like saying “I am an animal, fuck yeah!” And sometimes we all need to remember that we have physical bodies, however painful that can be – especially if you’re plagued with insecurities as to its inferiority. Homo sapiens are advanced animals (not as advanced as our no doubt soon to be alien overlords) but we are still members of the animal kingdom. We need to eat, sleep, and reproduce, and hopefully do those things somewhere not too uncomfortable.

Taking a nap is really embracing our animal natures and saying “robots are super awesome, but so are fleshy, carbon based life-forms like animals” and why not? Animals are pretty awesome – just look at bears. Enough said.

Naps are for people who aren’t afraid to admit that they’re tired, who don’t give a damn about what society or their boss thinks about them being asleep at their desk. Napping makes falling asleep a legitimate choice, rather than something you’re fighting because it would be really, hideously embarrassing. Taking a nap is being proud of the fact that you’re sleepy. Because you work hard, and play hard, and you are going to have a little sleep in the middle of the day, just like all the other mammals – no matter what anyone thinks.

Except that now it’s ok to do this. You don’t have to fight the ever more inevitable closing of your eyes. You can just say “fuck it, I’m taking a nap” and not be ashamed that you can’t make it through a few hours of work without a kip. You can also eat and go to the toilet (though not at the same time, that’s weird) and be proud that you are in touch with your body. You can accomplish the tasks that keep you alive. You are well on the way to being a Functioning Adult Human.

It still isn’t quite mainstream enough, yet, to not feel like a sneaky treat you’re stealing from the powers that be, whoever they might happen to be (it’s probably not Simon, though). This only helps to improve napping’s coolness rating. It’s still underground, and a little bit wrong. But unlike drinking at work, it can be argued to improve productivity, so it’s ok. But it’s still not acceptable enough that it’s lost its edge. Its cool, edgy, not giving a damn attitude.

So go for it – have a quick nap. You’ll like it. 

apatosaurus surprises!

a is for awesome, b is for badass - m

Just look at that. Is it not the cutest, most beautiful thing you ever saw?

Manatees are beautiful, gentle-faced creatures of pure joy. They are also completely awesome. Here’s why:

1. They are most closely related to elephants. You can see it now, can’t you? The family resemblance, I mean. Look at that prehensile upper lip…
2. They are thought to have evolved from four-legged mammals, and are also closely related to hyraxes, which are small, herbivorous mammals that make a few appearances in the Bible.
3. They sleep for half the day, in twenty-minute bursts, and then head up to the surface for some air. Awesome. Not only are the one of the most chilled members of the animal kingdom, but they can sleep underwater without needing to go up for air for twenty minutes.
4. The name “manati” means “breast” in the language of the Taíno.
5. They are also known as sea-cows. I suggest calling cows “land manatees”, because manatees are awesome. Sometimes I feel like I’m sort of a land manatee.
6. They were the inspiration for tales of mermaids. You might look at them and think “that doesn’t look like a mermaid” but really you should be thinking “that looks like a beautiful and awesome creature, I hope we can be friends”.
7.  There are 3 recognised species of manatee. And a fourth proposed. Woah, dude. The dwarf manatee is currently of disputed existence, which is pretty badass.

Manatees are just adorable, they swim around placidly, eating water plants and sleeping, not doing anyone any harm. They hear at higher frequencies than many marine animals, and because of this, cannot here the low sounds emitted by approaching boats. They’re also at risk from poaching, pollution and scary red algae. So it’s time we all started looking after them. There’s not an abundance of awesome in the world, and we can’t afford to see any more disappear.  

My own love for these majestic aquatic mammals may have started with a song about them on Sesame Street. Perhaps this is also where I got my thing about numbers and the alphabet. So, today’s post was brought to you by the letter M, the number 7, and the graceful manatee. 

a is for awesome, b is for badass - l

I love letters.

I’ve always been very excited about the post. Perhaps it’s due to the many hours I spent watching Postman Pat in my early years. That adorable fellow in the red van, delivering the letters with his faithful cat, Jess, is a pretty good poster boy for the Royal Mail. I actually loved Postman Pat so much that I had a toy black and white cat, which I named Jess, after Pat’s estimable pet. This was a great honour, although it also probably had a little to do with my inability to name my toys at all creatively.

I loved Jess, and I took her everywhere. She was one awesome toy cat. Then one day I left her behind at a hotel… and they sent her back to me in the post! The awesomeness involved in turning a sad, sad story, into a joyful reunion between a child and her favourite toy, involving a parcel from a hotel of all things, is almost too much to conceive of.

When you’re little the post is very exciting, and everyone seems to get letters all the time, except you. then you grow up and realise that they’re all bills and depressing bank statements, and the post office has queues like it’s a theme park, and the theme is incompetence.

But every so often you get a letter, and that’s just the best thing ever. It’s like getting a present, because you open it. And sometimes there is a present inside – sometimes it is some hilarious newspaper clippings or a tiny bar of chocolate.

I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of the internet, or if you just fell asleep on your keyboard and somehow ended up here, assuming it was a strange Microsoft Office wizard… but you’re online right now. Being online is great because you can do things like read hilarious blogs and look up how to cook corn on the cob when you’ve never done it before. Plus, there’s email. Email is brilliant for work – perhaps too brilliant, sometimes you look at your inbox and just want to scream “stop the madness” over and over.

It’s also great for keeping in touch with people on the other side of the Atlantic, especially since you can get it on your phone so it’s like they can text you. Skype lets you call people for cheap, and face Skype is free and comes with faces. And facebook lets your Younger Sister post videos on your page daily, so you don’t forget what music or hilarity is. But even though there are about a million and ten ways to keep in touch, letters are still exciting. This is due to their extreme awesomeness.

The paper helps – airmail paper is good, or writing on the back of your hilarious correspondence from various university departments (with your own annotations) is pretty great, as well as being good for the environment. Even if the paper is just normal, the little pictures all truly awesome people include are purpose built to make my day.

But the fun doesn’t stop with receiving letters, because I also like writing them. I often feel a sense of inferiority about my own letters, because I already know everything that I put in them. Other people’s letters are a lot more interesting to me, so I hope it works the other way round. If it doesn’t my letters are probably quite dull, which would be a shame because letters should be awesome.

And now to the reason we’re here – you fell asleep on your keyboard or something, but the stuff that you’re reading with that perplexed look on your face is here because sometimes I think things. But the reason it looks like this is that one of the things that I thought once, was that the letters one particularly awesome person sends me, are made even more awesome because of his illustrations. So I started putting little drawings in my letters, too, and then I thought I’d put some here.

All because of letters. Because letters are awesome.

tales from the subway: vol. iii

A new game is sweeping the city’s underground transport network…

tiny dog/massive rat

You’re a New Yorker – you know the drill. You’re underground in the intense heat or subzero chill that’s being visited upon you this particular week. You’re waiting for some semblance of a train, your anticipation is increased by the fact that there is no information anywhere, and your overall enthusiasm is somewhat dampened by the end of the world style décor. There’s probably a crazy person within 15 feet. If not, it’s you. Either way, you’re happily minding your own business (or screaming about the impending apocalypse) when-

Holy shit! There’s a rat in that woman’s bag!

Phew, turns out it’s just an absurdly small canine, not a rodent at all. Back to wishing this subterranean nightmare would end, when-

Oh no, a little dog on the tracks. It must have fallen, poor helpless thing. What will we do? Wait… woah, it’s actually a monstrous rat. I mean huge! It’s getting difficult to tell now, which is what makes the game so great. Most of the time you have to infer from the context – if it’s in a bag, it’s probably a dog, because who would carry a…

Wait just a second. It appears that we’ve fallen into the trap of thinking it’s normal to carry small dogs around in your bag, as one would a hairbrush or bottle of water. It’s a dog, madam. If it can’t support its own weight during this journey, then perhaps it shouldn’t really be along for the ride.

I understand the feeling that your probably miniature apartment might not be the best of places for the equally miniature beast, but does that necessarily lead to toting it around the city? Are the streets of New York, the subway network, the many shops you will visit, and the inside of your bag really a suitable environment for your beloved pooch? I have my reservations.

That’s actually putting it mildly. If you haven’t noticed, I tend to have quite strong feelings, particularly when trapped underground. And it’s not that I don’t like dogs, I just think that certain things can only be enjoyed within the relevant context. I like chocolate éclairs but I don’t want one to unexpectedly leap out of a curry. And I feel that even tiny dogs would probably be happier running around a garden.

New York is, of course, a large, bustling city. Not a rural idyll of green pastures. Please start behaving appropriately for your surroundings. This is a bookshop, your dog does not belong here. You are shopping, not driving a cow to market. Please stop letting the madness in.

At least the worryingly massive rats are spending their time in the subway out of choice. Not my choice, obviously, I didn’t ask for the creatures to be boldly scampering along the platform, and if there’s ever a referendum on the subject I would be tempted to vote no to rat habitation on public transport. After a full and comprehensive look at all the issues involved, of course. But your dog has been stuffed in your bag, and is making a noise that suggests that, not only was it not it’s idea, but it does not look favourably upon it.

Seeing as they are virtually indistinguishable, New Yorkers’ preference for tiny dogs over massive rats, is rather shocking. There are posters up all over the subway, bearing the legend: caution – rodenticide. Not that this has had any discernable effect on the rat population. Perhaps they should just have the signs read “caution – rodents” and spare us the exposure to noxious chemicals.

Rats would still be running around the stations, and dogs would still be peering mournfully out of shoulder bags. This is enough to push a person over the edge as it is, but a simple game with the objective of telling the two apart may be the only foothold of sanity we have left. So look over there – what do you reckon… tiny dog or massive rat? Happy commuting, guys! 

a is for awesome, b is for badass - k

Possibly the most awesomely named tree in the world.

You can imagine how they named it. Everyone was stood around, staring at a tree, wondering what to call it.

“Common coral tree?”

“Too common.”

“Lucky bean tree”

“Too Jack and the Beanstalk.”

Then “umsintsi,” “muvhale,” “mophete,” “kanniedood,” “mokhungwane,” and “umsinsi,” all rang out in rapid succession until some dude said

“Kaffir – boom!” and you can’t argue with that.

It may surprise you to know that the above are all actual names for the tree erythrina lysistemon. It may appear to the untrained eye (as well as the eye that has been practising for 20 years (that’s a long time to practise – get it right (woah, I’m funny))) that soup now is not really a temple of research. But trust me, Wikipedia has been well scanned on this one.

I can’t understand why some people insist on calling it the common coral tree. Firstly, how common are trees that look like coral? Is there an uncommon coral tree, and does that mean the tree is uncommon, or the coral it looks like?” but really (and secondly), when there are names like kaffir boom hanging around, daring you to use them.  

All in all, Wikipedia has a pretty high opinion of the tree I have long admired for having such a badass name. Birds are pretty fond of this deciduous beast, it’s used to treat a variety of medical conditions, it’s considered lucky, it’s not corky, it’s a member of the pea family, and it is often planted on the graves of Zulu chiefs as it is regarded as a royal tree.

Royal? If by that you mean king of the trees, then – boom! You’re correct, sir, the tree with the awesome name will rule all other trees. It really can’t fail with that go-getting attitude. “I think I’ll just sit here and photosynthesise – boom!” it can be heard to remark. And who’s going to argue with that?

So bow down and concede victory to the kaffir boom, king of trees – your name will never be as cool. But the kaffir boom won’t rub it in, for he is gracious and will just bask in the sunlight and grow its apparently magical fruit. But that fruit better be pretty darn magical if it’s going to me more awesome that saying being able to introduce yourself as “Boom, Kaffir Boom.”

The sad twist of fate is that trees can’t talk so can’t introduce themselves, no matter how awesome their name might be. So it’s up to us – we must bring up the kaffir boom in every possible conversation, no matter how unrelated. And don’t forget to shout “boom” for extra awesome.

Long live the kaffir boom!