There can be no doubt that when the roll-call of demon tools is made, lurking there between the biological warfare instruments and the genetic devices which will figure so prominently in the Clone Wars of 2083 will be: the alarm clock. If beer, as Franklin once observed, is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy, then I submit that the alarm clock proves that the demon sits grinning, waiting for us, in the pits of hell.
When Adolph Eichman was tried at Nuremburg, and the world saw a thin, innocuous man peering myopically through thick glasses, the phrase suggested itself: the banality of evil. And so it is with the alarm clock, whose sole purpose is to disturb restful slumber, knitting the raveled sleeve of care, as Shakespeare put it so eloquently, and thrust you abruptly into the icy waters of reality. You thrust out a wildly protesting hand, slapping furiously for the snooze button -- whoops, there goes the bedside lamp, damn, my glasses just fell down into that sygian pit between the table and the bed, who cares, shut that damn thing OFF!
Professional chronosympathists will have you believe that the alarm clock is simply a simple tool providing a much needed function. And it is true that it must do it well, perhaps elegantly, while hemmed in with multiple strictures. It must be small, so as to not take up excessive space on chronically crowded bedside tables. It must be easy to set but virtually impossible to mis-set (who among us has not set the alarm thinking it was the clock, or the reverse), and that should occur quickly, not a click-click-click as you repeatedly punch the button to urge the setting forward. It should have a pleasant yet urgent tone to its alarm (even the name grates); if it plays music, the sound should be loud enough to wake, not so loud as to startle. And the music, if there, should vary. No starting at the same damn piece every time the alarm goes off. What marvel of technical mastery can do all of this?
I'll tell you what.
A tool of the demon.
4 comments:
I would have that thought every morning, if I were capable of coherent thoughts when awakened by tools of demons. :)
I'm not a morning person. Yet since I've started getting up to exercise, I've probably been able to beat the alarm 75% of the time, and most of the time that it went off, I was able to shut it down quickly. I think that's pretty good. This morning, though....it was as if the device had cleverly scrambled exactly HOW you shut it off. I batted that jewel around for thirty seconds, trying to shut off the sound ('...and in Lancaster City theres a structure fire at the corner of Eighth and..' is NOT what I want to awaken to), and I was giving serious thought to heaving it across the room.
I think that alarm clocks should be touch sensitive -- if they're alarming, and they're touched, put them in snooze mode. Plus all the other features I alluded to. Would I pay real money for a small(ish) alarm clock with those features? You bet I would.
There is a story that when Nelson's sailors got a huge payout in prize money from the sale of captured ships during one of the many wars between France and England, that they bought gold watches for every man, and on the beach, they set up a fire pit, a big frying pan, and fried the watches!
Makes no sense, unless you have been in a military of some sort, a slave of time from the moment you join up!
When I left the military, I left my wrist watch crushed in a vice in the work room, and have never worn one since. I have an alarm clock just in case, but have only used it a couple of times to make sure I wake up in time for court,the wedding, the funeral or some such event. Maybe,what..2 times a year?
I naturally wake up at 9.30, and have done so for years. I naturally crash at 2 in the morning. Do most of the computer work between midnight and 2 AM, because the internet is quiet.
David Corren's book "sleep theives" suggests that the alarm clock kills people. (He is a sleep researcher in Canada) He uses statistics to show how the commuter accident rate goes down when the clocks move forward an hour in the spring. He didnt think the demon was the alarm clock, but rather, was Edison, with his electric light.
I like that image. My military departure parting action wasn't quite so dramatic, though in retrospect I'm glad I was long gone when it came to light. For yours, I suspect some of the pleasure would have been just seeing the reaction of people looking at the vise. What the hell is that in ..... man!
I have, dozens of times, caught myself glancing at the spot where my watch would be if I'd remembered to put it on after the shower-- and somehow felt better for doing it. Just glancing at the bare skin where it would be satisfied the urge to know what time it is. Go figure.
I cherish the image of Al Pacino as the blind soldier turning his wrist and exclaiming 'Wow, look at the time!' -- it took me thirty seconds to realize what was wrong with what he was doing. And my daughter, who routinely does not wear a watch, asked if I wear mine to bed, and when I said yes, I do, she asked: "Why?" Ummm.....
And then there's always that classic story -- 'Repent, Harlequin, Said The Ticktockman!'
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