Some Theories on Theories

Scientists have too much time on their hands. Literally. For example, there’s something called the B-theory of time. I don’t know what this is exactly; I always thought ‘B time’ was said by cinema-goers in the 1940s just before a Ronald Reagan movie came on the screen. All I know is that there’s a good chance this theory is about time – as in it’s about time scientists stopped coming up with all this nonsense. It seems boffins are now having hourly competitions to see who can imagine the most unimaginable theory. 

    Even the great Albert Einstein got in on the act with his Theory of Relativity. Again, don’t ask me to explain this. I suppose it’s called the Theory of Relativity because it’s taken a relativity long time to prove that E = MC Hammer. 

     I’ve come up with something more useful than Professor Einstein’s effort. I’ve called it my Theory of Relatives. I’ll explain: Say you have a flatulent uncle called Ernie who pretends his dog is the one with the gas problem. The equation for this would go: E = BWBD which stands for (Uncle) Ernie Breaks Wind (and) Blames (his) Dog. You might think this theory is trivial but in fact, it is very important – if you’re Ernie’s dog. My supposition is also a lot easier to prove than Einstein’s effort. You can send my Nobel Prize in the post.

    I’m not impressed by the Big Bang Theory either. It has little going for it apart from being called after a comedy show on television. Yes, I admit the universe could have started with a big bang but it could have begun with a lot less fuss – that’s why I’m a fan of the Little Whimper Theory.

    Then there is the Flat Earth Theory. To be fair, there probably aren’t too many scientists who believe the Earth is flat, especially if they have taken the time to visit Nepal or Switzerland. Perhaps this theory’s proponents come from the Netherlands. This thesis is ridiculous in my opinion, as you can probably guess. So don’t give me the Flat Earth Theory – I’m still trying to get my head around the Flat Stomach Theory.

© John E. McBride

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Enterprise Is Good For Your Heart

First of all, I will apologise for yet again mentioning Star Trek in a post. I make no apologies for the subject matter, however. If you read only one of my pieces, make sure it is this. Actually, if you only read one of my pieces, I'll be quite upset.

     In my opinion, living like Mr Spock can benefit your heart. You might think that Vulcans and health go together like Romulans and hippies, but since my heart attack in 2014, I’ve concluded that our tickers would be in better shape if we were more like the character made famous by Leonard Nimoy on Star Trek. (Pointy ears optional).

     Take my own case. In the lead-up to my heart attack, I was getting occasional pains in both arms. My body was warning me like a flashing red alert on the Starship Enterprise. Foolishly, I chose to believe my pains were caused by the cold weather. I have since discovered my hesitation in seeking proper medical opinion was not unique. In fact, I’ve been amazed at the number of fellow heart patients who also ignored their symptoms and/or self-diagnosed. We lacked Mr Spock’s logic. He would have visited Dr McCoy straight away. Although there are less concerning reasons for pain(s) in your upper body, it is always wise to seek proper medical advice at warp speed. 

     Vulcans have little or no blood pressure, yet Mr Spock could give humans a lesson on blood pressure management. He remained composed in stressful situations, calmly handling big events such as a Klingon attack to relatively small strains like choosing ear muffs. You may not be blessed with Spock’s mentality, but you can relax more. Make lists in order to prioritise your daily/weekly/monthly tasks. Learn to handle both ‘big’ and ‘small’ stresses. Have regular blood pressure checkups. Reduce your salt intake. 

     Like Star Trek episodes, cholesterol can be good or bad. We can assume Mr Spock maintained high levels of ‘good’ cholesterol in his blood because that was the logical thing to do. Monitor your cholesterol and eat healthily to reduce the ‘bad’ type (which can damage your blood vessels). And keep an eye on your blood sugar levels too.

     A transporter room in your home that could beam you to and from work or the shops might seem convenient but your heart wouldn’t thank you. Parking your car slightly further away from your workplace or supermarket (or getting off the bus a stop early) makes it easier to incorporate extra exercise into your daily routine. Better still, if you can, walk/cycle all the way. (Allow extra time if your office is on Mars). Mr Spock stayed in shape and had a healthy body mass index (BMI). Follow his lead and watch your waistline. 

    One final, important point – the Prime Directive for a healthy heart is No Smoking.

    The following mnemonic may help ensure your heart lives long and prospers:

M –Medical attention. Seek it urgently if you experience any unusual symptoms.
R – Relax. Practice deep breathing, for example.
S – Sugar levels in your blood should be monitored. 
P – Pressure. As in blood pressure. Check it regularly. Cut down on salt.
O – Organise your life. Prioritising tasks puts less stress on you.
C – Cholesterol.  Watch your diet.
K – Keep fit and hydrated. Maintain a healthy weight. No smoking. 

© John E. McBride  

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I Won't Stand For This

The thought of being a stand-up comedian makes me want to sit down. Apart from not actually standing up, there are other things that would make me a poor stage comic.

     The first reason why it’s hard for me to do stand-up is (promise you won’t laugh) the sound of laughter. I know this defeats the purpose of being a comedian, but hearing people giggle would make me anxious – I would spend the whole time checking to see if my trousers were falling down. I could face the other way but that would be worse; the audience would be laughing behind my back – and who likes people laughing at them behind their back?

     Even if I got over the laughter, the actual audience would worry me. I keep imagining I’d have the worse crowd ever. I can take hecklers because in a way they’re giving feedback which is good (if you like people shouting ‘rubbish!’ at you). I’m talking about the potential make-up of the audience (and by that I mean its composition, not the lipstick it’s wearing). 

     I mean, imagine if the Federation of Mime Artists came to watch me. Definitely no verbal feedback from them. They might enjoy the show or they might not, I wouldn’t know; I don’t speak mime. They would be gesticulating away and I wouldn’t know if they were heckling me or if they were constipated. 

     Then we have the groups that would come to my comedy show by mistake. For example, a mix-up in dates could mean I’d have to entertain the Virginia Woolf Appreciation Society. Nothing wrong with that, except I don’t think they’d be on for an evening of laughter. In my opinion, Virginia Woolf admirers are fans of great writing but not great fans of comedy.

    And let's not forget Trade Unionists; I wouldn’t want to see any of them in my audience. They’re dangerous because they organise strikes. And there’s no way I'm having a walkout at my stand-up.

© John E. McBride


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Moon Trek

Childhood is confusing enough without American television and NASA combining to make it worse. That’s what they did to me, when, in the 1960s, they launched Star Trek and the Moon landings in the wrong order. I was little more than a toddler at the time, and having already seen the Enterprise, couldn’t understand all the fuss surrounding Apollo 11. 

     Let’s face it, comparing the Lunar Command Module and the Starship Enterprise is like equating a dinghy with a luxury liner. For example, the Lunar Module took three days to reach Earth’s nearest neighbour; Captain Kirk’s ship went so fast, its crew could stop an interplanetary war at the far end of the galaxy in one hour – or in even less time if there weren’t any adverts.

     There was another let-down when the Module reached lunar orbit. Instead of beaming to the surface like Captain Kirk, the crew descended in something that looked like a robotic dog – which was called the ‘Eagle.’ See what I mean about being confused?

    Neil Armstrong’s first words on the Moon were another disgrace. Instead of “…one small step for man”, he should have said: “Set phasers to stun.”     

    I’m certainly not the only person to be confused by Star Trek. I’m sure there are some people who think Anton Chekhov was a navigator on the Starship Enterprise. And there must have been quite a few letters from all over the galaxy asking for paediatric advice from Mr Spock.

    One final point: Both Star Trek and the Moon landings should have cost much less. Captain Kirk could have gone where no man had gone before by staying at home, taking his ceiling down and walking over it. And the Apollo astronauts could also have stayed on Earth for all they did on the Moon – which was to take a few photos, play some golf and stagger around. They could have done the same things at a stag party in Magaluf. 

© John E. McBride

I Can't Figure Out Figurative Language

You could say clichéd expressions drive me up the wall. But please don’t. These phrases demonstrate a lack of creativity on behalf of those who use them, don’t make sense, and very often should mean another thing entirely. 

    For example, to have ‘a face like thunder’ is to appear angry. But think about it; a face can’t look like thunder because no one can see thunder. What the expression should really mean, therefore, is to have an invisible face. So how can you tell that that person is angry in the first place?

     Some expressions, in addition to being stupid, require the user to make more effort. Take ‘keep your eyes peeled’, meaning ‘be alert’. The former has four words and syllables; the latter has two words and three syllables which are easier to say and write. And while I’m at it, why peel your eyes? Are your eyes bananas? By the way, I’m talking about bananas in the literal sense.

    From sight to sound, and ‘music to my ears’, which means hearing something that is pleasing. But music is subjective. The saying should be ‘my favourite music genre to my ears.’ Or simply, ‘it sounds good.’ Staying on a melodic theme and more daftness with ‘fit as a fiddle’. There’s nothing fit about a fiddle; I’ve never seen a violin run a marathon.

    Perhaps the most nonsensical of all is when you tell someone that they’ve 'got their head screwed on the right way' which ironically means that they’re sensible. This is a compliment that should only be given to a robot. The only non-mechanical being that that saying could apply to is Frankenstein’s monster. And it’s Dr Frankenstein who should really get the credit: 

    “You sure screwed that fella’s head on the right way, Doc.”

     Finally, a penny for your thoughts on this (actually, I won’t pay you – although your opinion must be worth a lot more than a penny due to inflation): Why does time turn us into psychopaths? Think about the answer when you find yourself with time to kill.

© John E. McBride
     
     

Seven Great Songs that Annoy Me

A great song can be annoying even without Mr Blobby doing a cover version of it. To prove my point, I’ve come up with seven terrific songs that still manage to drive me round the twist. And before you ask, Chubby Checker’s song isn’t one of them.

     Some songs leave me wanting more for all the wrong reasons. For instance, there’s an obvious question concerning ‘Reasons to be Cheerful, Part 3’: Where are Parts 1 and 2? Ian Dury, singing with his group The Blockheads, only mentioned one-third of the things that made him happy. As they’d probably also make me happy, this song leaves me feeling more tearful than cheerful. How ironic.

     Speaking of ironic songs, next on my list, appropriately enough, is Alanis Morissette’s ‘Ironic’ – this irritates me because, despite the title, its lyrics contain no examples of irony. I suppose that makes the song ironic in a roundabout sort of way. Never mind, Alanis, as far as misleading song titles go, you’re in good company…

    When I heard Gilbert O’Sullivan had a song out called ‘Nothing Rhymed’ I got a bit anxious, as the title sounded like a criticism of my limerick poems. It turned out Gilbert could teach irony to Alanis Morissette as ‘Nothing Rhymed’ is full of rhymes. Just a thought: Perhaps Gilbert and Alanis could get together and do a mashup song called ‘Nothing Ironic.’ 

     Another misleading song title is 'I Write the Songs' by Barry Manilow. Barry did not actually write 'I Write the Songs' so the song should have been called 'I Write Songs but I didn't Write I Write the Songs.' And I write tongue twisters. 

    Sometimes it’s not the songs but the record-buying public that leave me perplexed. In 1975, ‘January’ by Pilot became a number-one single in Ireland and the UK during the month of February. (More irony). I’ve spent many sleepless nights (a few minutes, actually) thinking about the reason why anyone would feel so nostalgic about the cold and snow, and the type of people who would want to remember January so soon. I can only conclude that in 1975, a lot of record buyers were snowmen. By the way, a song called ‘March’ would do really well in military circles.

    Some tunes bring back bad memories. I first heard ‘At Seventeen’ by Janis Ian at the age of sixteen (which is not the best age to hear ‘At Seventeen’ for the first time). In my opinion, ‘At Seventeen’ is similar to songs written by the great Leonard Cohen – except his material is much more upbeat. According to the lyrics, Janis had such a tough time finding sweethearts that she had to pretend she was talking to them on the phone. This filled me with trepidation because to share the singer’s misfortune would be doubly painful, as I’d have to pretend to have a girlfriend and phone. Sure enough, at seventeen, I did indeed find myself talking to pretend girls on a pretend telephone. (Not all bad news; the call charges were low). To be honest, I was still calling make-believe girls at the age of twenty-seven. But at least I had a telephone by then.

    U2 let themselves down sometimes. Bono has been singing ‘I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking For’ since 1987. It would help if he told us exactly what he’s lost. My guess is that it’s probably something small, like a teaspoon. I feel your pain, Bono, but there’s no point spending decade after decade crooning about a lost kitchen utensil. Just go out and buy another teaspoon. However, if what you’ve lost is the confidence to go shopping, then I’m really sorry for this rant.

© John E. McBride


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Metaphors for Monaghan

To help you get to know me a little more, I thought I’d write about my native county, Monaghan in Ireland, and use metaphors to make it a little more interesting – and hopefully make me look a little more intelligent in the process. You will discover that in metaphorical terms, Monaghan is a useless jigsaw puzzle, a useless compass, Cork (I won’t say a useless county), and Heaven. Let’s begin. Monaghan is…

County Cork

Monaghan’s name is derived from the Irish for ‘land of the little hills’ which is apt, because it has so much high ground, it should be the number one holiday destination for moral people. It makes me annoyed that Cork is officially the largest county by area in Ireland. That honour would surely go to Monaghan, if we could flatten its hills.

A jigsaw puzzle with one missing piece

Gaelic Football is so ingrained into the psyche of Monaghan people that many of them think the last line of the national anthem is “…and the match is on!” it’s true that most people in the county are mad about Gaelic football and they get even madder every time their team bows out of the All-Ireland tournament. And that’s a lot of times. In fact, despite being successful in other competitions, Monaghan has yet (up to 2016) to win the All-Ireland Gaelic football title. This leaves one large gap in its trophy room (which at this very moment is probably being used as a hideaway by a yeti).

A broken compass

Due to the county’s unique location – bordered on three sides by Northern Ireland – a person can stand in certain parts of Monaghan and face ‘The North’ by looking north, south, east or west. If you ever get lost in Monaghan, don’t depend on a compass.

Liechtenstein (almost)

Monaghan and Liechtenstein are both landlocked – double landlocked in the latter’s case which explains why Liechtenstein has such a poor national surfing team. Monaghan could become ‘double landlocked’ – if Fermanagh win the All-Ireland Gaelic football title, and along with it the Sam Maguire Cup. All of Monaghan’s neighbouring counties, bar Fermanagh, have won the All-Ireland, so if Fermanagh lift the trophy, it will leave Monaghan ‘Sam Maguire locked’ – and having to decide whether it feels more claustrophobic or depressed.

Heaven

In my opinion, Monaghan looks a bit like Heaven. It would look a lot like Heaven if the county could borrow a piece of Tahitian coastline.

© John E. McBride