Artwork: “Once Upon a Time” by Poly Dandroid ©
“She had the time of my life.” – ALARM 9000
By the time you have read this post, a googolplex of galactic babies will have been born, Mrs Millicent Marjoribanks of Tunbridge Wells will have over-baked her prize raspberry buns, Betelgeuse will have exploded in a spectacular supernova, two thousand briefcases will have missed their trains, an elderly Elnathan will have just remembered something really important that he should’ve done, a kettle will have finally boiled and the sun will have engulfed the planet Earth in an almighty cosmic guff.
…of course, this is all relative to the reader.
Sunil arrived 23 minutes late to work this morning. Tracey was not very happy.
It has become quite apparent to me during my visit to this little planet that Earth’s apes, particularly Tracey, have a slight preoccupation with time.
The eternal tick-tocking of the Earthling’s perpetual calculator adorns every office wall, wrist and mobile phone that I encounter. Humans fanatically base their entire lives around its being. In fact, their blind faith in it appears to take precedence over their own mental wellbeing and happiness.
By mid-morning, Tracey was obviously quite troubled by Sunil’s lateness. I decided to enquire why.
“What if something had happened?” she snapped.
I assured her that it was highly probable that a great number of things would have happened in that 23 minutes. The Universe is like that, it keeps doing things all the time.
“But, it’s what he gets paid for!” she huffed.
I had been under the assumption that he got paid for whatever it was that he was here to do, whether it was in that 23 minutes or some other.
“I mean, what if someone had phoned?” She replied.
“They’d just call back later.” I said.
“But what if it was important?”
“Then, they’d definitely call back.” I said.
I was having some trouble comprehending Tracey’s agitation.
Humans have a very interesting way of monitoring time. Their day is divided into 24 hours, each divided into 60 minutes which are further divided into 60 seconds. To save time, their clocks only have 12 of the hours visible and they just count it twice.
Their mobile phones count up to 24, but the 24th number resets to zero, so they can count it all over again the following day.
What’s more, they also count the amount of times each ape has successfully circumnavigated the sun, and they celebrate this by bringing in cakes for other people to eat.
Also, they count the number of times their planet circumnavigates the sun, and they start this from the day a bearded ape named Jesus first accomplished this very task.
Elsewhere in the galaxy, most intelligent beings lead very relaxing lives due to a complete and utter abandonment of a preoccupation with time – partly, due to the fact that no-one has ever been able to read or comprehend Interstellar Spaceways complex and contradictory timetables.
By lunchtime, Tracey had had enough.
“So, exactly why were you late, Sunil? She growled.
Sunil, clearly embarrassed by the whole affair, finally spoke. “I had to get cakes,” he said, “today’s my birthday.”
Until next time, keep evolving!