A Short Discourse on the Origins of Time

A Short Discourse on the Origins of Time

by Beowulf Mayfield

TIME is one of those things which has frequently made life very miserable for the people of Planet Earth. The introduction of the concept of dividing the day up into units called hours and minutes meant people were encouraged to be forever worrying about which point of the day they were currently living in and consequently became very concerned that there simply weren't enough hours in the day, days in the week, weeks in the year or even enough years in a lifetime to be able to get everything done.

For centuries, people were frequently heard to exclaim: 'I just havn't got time. . .' and later complained that 'Life's too short' - which was a curious assumption, because nobody really had any real idea about just how long their lives are actually going to be.

Time was probably invented by an unpleasant middle manager of a stone-carving business at some unknown point in the planet's distant stone age. This unknown but very unpleasant individual hit upon the idea of designating a point early in the day, say, just as the sun was beginning to shine in the morning and the day ahead was starting to feel warm and pleasant, when all his stone carvers would have to go into a dark cave and work by candlelight until the sun was setting and the temperature starting to drop. Anyone who showed up after the point designated for starting would be asked: "And what time do you call this?" - which was, of course, a deeply humiliating question to ask because nobody had the slightest notion what time it really was and all they could do was to stand there feeling awkward and mumbling: "Don't know, Sir."

It really was a extremely unpleasant innovation and certainly didn't make that middle manager any friends.

An attempt to foil this bullying manager was made by an inventive stone carver who, on being asked "And what time do you call this?" on a particularly sunny and inviting day, replied: "Time you got a sundial, Sir." When asked to explain himself, the carver led the way outside and proudly pointed to a carved monolith and a semi-circle of round, coloured stones set out at intervals to mark the progress of the shadow cast by the standing stone.

Sadly, the carver was promptly sacked for misuse of company property and thus became the first working class hero. Unfortunately, his heroic status didn't last long because the manager requisitioned the sundial for his own use and took to standing by it with a mean look in his eyes ready to scold anyone who arrived after the shadow had passed the blue stone. The rest of the stone carvers blamed their former mate for the strict, new regime and saw to it that he never worked in the stone business again.

Time, like money, is one of those double-edged swords which the world might be a far happier place without.

© Beowulf Mayfield 2001

An old poem

The Monday Night Sidestreet Showdown

by Beowulf Mayfield

Last night
I saw a crimewave
He was walking up the street, twenty paces ahead of me
Seventeen years old
And ugly for his age.

Three times he turned
And looked back down the street at me.

I was on my way home
Carrying a supermarket bag
With a carton of semi-skimmed milk, a jar of pasta sauce
And two rolls of toilet paper.
I was smoking a cigarette
And had an urgent need for the crapper.

There wasn't much time.

I looked back at the crimewave
With the face of someone who doesn't need to carry a gun.
If he put one foot out of line
I was ready to shower him with
Hot, stinking shit.

He didn't fancy his chances
And ran home to the safety of his mother.

When I arrived home,
I put the milk in the fridge, the pasta sauce in the cupboard
And took the toilet paper upstairs to the bathroom.

As I relieved my bowels
I made a mental note
To form a gang
For social gatherings,
Weekend sporting activities
And routine vigilante duties.

© Beowulf Mayfield 1999

Tomorrow's Soup?

The first post of a new blog... hello world and all that... What on earth is Tomorrow's Soup supposed to be about? Well, it all started with a Facebook status comment a few months ago - I put up something like "Tomorrow's soup is now simmering" and the great photographer Simon Jacobs responded with something like "Tomorrow's Soup sounds like an episode of Dr Who or your autobiography or something". Well, I figured I'd rename my personal website Tomorrow's Soup with the catchline "Making the best of what there is today to create something new for tomorrow" - in the way wise cooks would (and still do) reserve the left-overs from one meal to put in something for the next day... Moreover, I find when I make soup it often tastes better if it's prepared the day before and left to sit overnight...

So that's my explanation for the name - so far - but why am I giving a new blog the same name?
Simple - I'm getting fed up with running a website (it costs money to rent the webspace, don't forget) and the reasons for having a website when I set it up ten years ago no longer apply so I'm wondering if I'll make greater use of a blog like this... Therefore it's likely that I'll transfer my web activity over this way in time...

Enough, I'm hungy and the toaster is calling...