By Gareth Edwards

Friday 26 August 2011

Scissors, Gold and a Swinging Cat



More answers to your questions about some of the fundamental problems of the universe, and also some of the really superficial ones.

Who originally proved there was not enough room to swing a cat?
The phrase goes all the way back to the late1930s and the unique sound of “Furry” Fred Buckman, a musical trail-blazer who advocated replacing woodwind instruments with domestic animals rotated at high angular velocity. "Swing Cat Swing!" featuring Buckman on Tibbles, a tabby belonging to one of his neighbours, marked the zenith of his career before he was relocated to new premises in the Delaware State Asylum where the small room sizes and unusually tight jackets brought his performing to a close.

Should I cash my gold?
Before you sell anything do stop to consider how gold can have a special sentimental value beyond the purely financial. Whether it’s a gift from a much-loved Nazi uncle, or a keep-sake from that special pirate in your life, or maybe just a souvenir of a lovely day out with friends in the Brink’s-MAT warehouse, do you really want cash more than all those happy memories? On the other hand, money can also be a lovely way of saying “I love you”.

What does a guy have to do to get some service around here?
I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting. The specials today are barely-supressed rage at the bitter gall of this catering servitude, or a simmering resentment of rejection letters served on my visionary rites-of-passage sci-fi screenplay.

Who invented scissors?
Scissors weren’t invented, they were discovered in Massachusetts in 1749 by Jeddadeddadiah Lowell who came across two knives that had been riveted together with a thunder bolt during a mechanical storm (the standard kind of storm before Benjamin Franklin’s invention of the electrical storm two years later). Excited by his discovery he picked up the scissors and ran home to show his family but tripped, and was naturally killed instantly.

Is it possible to be too average, and if so, how can I achieve this?
Imagine you worked hard to be as average as you possibly could. Imagine you strove for many years to be run of the mill in all your endeavours, and imagine those endeavours were as predictably banal and quotidian as the human mind could make them.  You might by the end of your life be remarkably average. And herein would lie your failure. For averageness shuns the remarkable, the extreme. To achieve true averageness you need to be only averagely average. Just as a cat shuns the lap of one who yearns for feline proximity, averageness is not to be striven for and achieved. The most we can do is simply muddle along half-heartedly, neither really going for it nor giving up completely and hope that one day averageness will honour our laps with its ordinarily soft coat and humdrum purr.

According to info compiled by Google, I can expect to live 78.7 years. What should I do with that .7 of a year?
I’m afraid you’ve already used that up at the start as the .7 of a year is all before birth. The good news is that you will have used it very wisely by spending quality time with your mother and generally growing as a person.

Now that you’ve finished reading this blog, why not recycle it by simply printing it out to make a handy piece of scrap paper to keep by the phone?