1391784776 06:37 07.02.2014 0

A New Clock Face

Filed under: Uncategorized — Hoffman @ 661 14:52:56 +0000 UTC0 0
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We really need to redefine the day. More specifically, those parts of a twenty-four hour cycle which we have named morning, noon, evening, night and so on.

Firstly we must accept that the currently established agrarian style divisions of the day are outdated for all aspects of modern life. If you cannot ascribe to this thought, please do not continue reading further. Said premise is so obviously defunct, and such time has been given to the discussion that I shall not continue to mull it here.

Secondly, we must look to the divisions we have, and what they mean.

Let us start with morning, the time to wake up, break one’s fast after sleeping (hence the term breakfast) and do whatever morning things one chooses to do, be it read the newspaper, go for a run or spend two hours putting one’s face on with expensive crayons.

Then comes the actual day, which may be split into different divisions, but most of them make little to no sense in today’s world, since the day is comprised of various blocks, depending on what one does. But there is this distinction of forenoon and afternoon, AM and PM figure into this, as does the concept of noon itself.

Then we have evening, which is probably the most poorly defined of all the parts of the day. When does it start and when does it become night. This is probably the most important question of all. Many languages have the tradition of welcoming someone with a variation of “good evening” and saying goodbye with the equivalent of “good night” irrespective of the time of actual evening, or night at hand.

Lastly we have night, which is the name given to the part of the day we should, on average, as a race, devote to sleep.

Right, so here we are. Twenty-four hours split into sections. Next we should look at how to place them on the clock face, to make the whole system run smoother. The main concerns are, there is a lot less forenoon than afternoon, evening is very unspecific and the whole system is based on very outdated and unnatural times to do things.

I, myself am a dedicated night-owl, and no amount of trying has had more than a brief temporary effect on my sleep cycle, often times to my great dismay. Recently, luckily I have managed to be more in charge of my schedule and can work around this “deficiency”. This article is not meant to fix the world to revolve around people like me, however, but to truly help define these parameters for the modern world. I will still be quite outside the norm, but perhaps not quite by so much.

Let us start with defining the time of evening and night, as these are more easy to agree upon, to begin with. If one looks at how we schedule our so called down time, the time reserved for relaxation and entertainment, we get some major clues into the time and how it should be classified.

All over the world and for a very long time, such entertainments as theatre and opera start at seven PM (19:00) and last for an average of three hours. This means, that ten o’clock “at night” can’t really be considered night at all. After the theatre one customarily has a bite to eat or a drink or two in good company, before heading home. This means, that in general the time to arrive home after such an evening will be rather close to midnight (12 PM / 00:00).

The same applies for entertainment in the home. Television prime time starts at nine (21:00) and most feature length movies on TV start an hour later, lasting again for two to three hours. So by the time entertainment is finished and the evening is over, we are at least up to midnight if not later.

Accepting this as the fact that it is, we will see that night starts no earlier than at position 00 on the 24-hour clock face. Hence midnight is not in the middle of the night but rather the beginning. Assuming we need approximately eight hours of sleep, which has been contested both ways in recent years, but the minor differences don’t really move this point in either direction, this would actually place the middle of the night at 4 AM, or “four in the morning” as it has been called. A good four hours before any time that should be considered morning, by the above definitions.

So we have thus far established that night starts at twelve, 00. Followed by eight hours of the same, which need not be split into different sections in general discussion. Next comes morning, starting at approximately eight, local time. But how long is morning? Clearly not at long as night or the main part of the day, but it has to have some length to it. As we define morning activities to include bathing, eating, stretching and other exercise… getting ready for the day ahead, I would say we need to give it at least a few hours, and with commutes and so on which we might as well include into the morning period, call it three hours of morning.

This brings us to 11 o’clock, the beginning of day. I think you will agree with the logic so far, so let us continue. The day starts at 11 and much like the night will undoubtedly last a full eight hours, up till 7 PM (19:00). Obviously the solar concepts of midday and noon are not directly applicable anymore, but much like moving midnight to the appropriate place a few paragraphs earlier, let us move midday to 3 PM (15.00) which was previously been called mid-afternoon, which, at least in my mind has meant the same thing all this time anyway. So no change there, really.

Coincidentally, this part in the middle of the day is the time when most people, by empirical study, are at their best, their most acute and most sociable. This is clearly the time when meetings, examinations and all other important, possibly stressful and creative gatherings should be held. Obviously individual differences apply, but for anything comprising of a team or group, this is the time.

And would you look at that, we’ve arrived back to the place we started defining night from, 7 PM. This we shall call, as always before, evening. And evening was defined way back in the beginning to last up until around 12 PM. There we go, all 24 hours accounted for. Evening is a good two hours longer than morning, because we as a global society spend much more time on evening activities than on morning ones, it would seem.

This is not to say that You wouldn’t be allowed to wake up at 05:30 like you prefer, just know that your head start on the day doesn’t mean that evening will come any earlier. Likewise, my personal preference of going to bed at around 04:00 and not getting up until what I accept is well into the day, should not affect how anyone else deals with their day. The above times are merely an updated view of the 24-hour day, as befit our current western, if not global culture. 

1217683550 31:214 02.08.2008 1

A Ponderance on Existence

Filed under: Uncategorized — Hoffman @ 601 13:25:50 +0000 UTC0 0
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I’ve began to suspect that this world isn’t real, not real at all. I think that what I perceive as the world around me, the people I interact with, and everything else, is just a figment of my imagination. Its not real, none of it. Not you, reading this; if even this text actually exists. Then again, it must do, because reality is what I perceive, is it not? This is a world of my design, after all.

For a long time I was puzzled by the fact that people would very often try to contact me at the exact time I woke up, or sat down in front of my computer. And I mean exactly then. And sure, it is just “coincidence,” right… Anyone with half a brain should know that coincidence can not, by its very nature, follow a clearly observable pattern. This would be very much against the very nature of those phenomena we deem as coincidental, or at least against the idea of coincidentality.

So, I put it to you, that I have ample evidence of not only the points mentioned above, but of other happenings that suggest that the world indeed revolves around me. And, being perhaps modest, I feel that the only reason that such an egocentric place could exist, would have to be due to the fact that it is a construct of my mind. At this moment I am still not sure if this construct is of my own design, or due to some outside influence.

However, if such outside influence does exist, it means that I must have a physical, corporeal form of some kind, outside of this perceived reality, or lack thereof. I shall endeavour to find out whether this be so, and also the purpose of such an exercise. I choose to disbelieve the illusion of this reali-

1213145490 24:162 11.06.2008 1

Making it difficult

Filed under: Uncategorized — Hoffman @ 077 00:51:30 +0000 UTC0 0
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Yes, I know it would have been just as easy to post them “backwards” so as to have them in the right order… I know. Shh.

To be honest, it doesn’t matter at this point what order they are in, since the whole grand scheme is still firmly in my head. I would appreciate comments, a few good ones, to offset the evil critique too.

I actually had some important reason for writing this post as well, but I seem to have spaced on it. I started thinking about how I am not happy with this layout at all, and everything else slipped my mind.

Anyway, must not have been that important, seeing as I forgot. I hope these pages are seen by people, without any sort of advertising. I hope you leave comments too, as I have said. I’ll try to write more, just in case someone happens to enjoy them.

I do hope you do!

Part the Third: Something in the Works…

Filed under: Uncategorized — Hoffman @ 068 00:37:56 +0000 UTC0 0
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Knives were the answer. Knives or coins; he was relatively sure the translation was one of the two. And the key of course, whatever it was, it had to be a key. But there were always two, weren’t there? And at least one had to be wrong. Like she had been. It shouldn’t take a genius to realize that wood didn’t hold out much chance against so much rock. Unfortunately for her, it was the rock that had taken the genius.
In the fifteen minutes that had passed since the last great revelation of the previous coffee break had been exhausted as a viable option to try in these circumstances, things did not look positive. The problem was the lack of evidence. That and the heat, no one could concentrate in this kind of heat. It was probably why so little was getting done. Not a lack of evidence at all, despite there being one.
Ten more seconds, that was all she would have needed, but the struts just wouldn’t hold. It was just as inevitable as trying to make a migraine go away by thinking about it a lot. Come to think of it, the migraine was probably making his life harder as well. He couldn’t blame himself, it wasn’t his fault, nor was there anything to be done at that point. But he was the only one he could blame, no one else was responsible for her. But she was gone, and nothing could bring her back now.
The key. Knives, lots of them everywhere, but which was the right one. Clues? No obvious ones, nothing highlighted, nothing eye-catching about any of them. How about coins then? There was only a single image of a coin in the room, it just had to be it. Interestingly, a slight serration on its edge seemed not too different from what one might find in a regular house key, except for it being in a circular formation.
But if he now had the key, where was the lock? And what lay behind it. Why was he even searching? He had no idea what he may find, that was why. Adventure. The whole point of searching, of discovery even, was adventure. Of course fame, riches and beautiful women helped too, but adventure was the driving force, it had to be. Beautiful women like her, poor her. Such a shame, such a waste, and why? Well, because of adventure.
But none of that mattered now, it was all irrelevant next to the rising water… And the scorpions, where did they come from?

Part the Second: Paranoia

Filed under: Uncategorized — Hoffman @ 062 00:30:40 +0000 UTC0 0
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As he neared the door, he noticed that both the match-stick and the bottle cap, that he had strategically placed to be dislodged if anyone so much as tried the handle, had been repositioned from where he had left them three hours earlier. He new this could mean only one thing, they had found him. There was no choice, no way of going back now. Nothing to be done. He turned around, ran to the car and sped away with all the speed he dared without arousing too much suspicion.
He could hardly believe it, but there could be no mistake, no one else would have even noticed the makeshift security measures, let alone fixed them back the way they had been… Almost the way they had been. A crucial error that had surely saved his life. Seven years it had been, seven years of relative peace. He had almost started to think that he was safe, but no. They were here, they were going through his possessions at this very moment no doubt, sifting through them for the three things they desired even more than to see him head.
His only consolation was that the items were safe from them, as was he. For the moment at least. He would never break under torture, but neither did he have any place to hide from them. Nowhere was safe from their eyes, from their spies. It would never end, and he knew it. He had to make a stand, here and now. It was the only hope he had left, take his secrets as well as however many of them that he could to the grave with him. But how could he hope to oppose them? How could anyone? No, there was only one thing to be done.
So he drove to the suspension bridge over the river, cleaned out the interior of his car into a bag, and tossed it as well as himself over the rail into the churning white rapids below. He smiled as the torrents enveloped him, and closed his secrets into their icy embrace.
Meanwhile the squirrel returned from its scavenging foray and brushed the debris at the foot of the door back into their original positions with its tail.
* * *
It only got truly interesting the next morning when the police fished out the grinning corpse of a man clutching at a bag of refuse.

Part the First: Sebalec

Filed under: Uncategorized — Hoffman @ 061 00:28:20 +0000 UTC0 0
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Sebalec was special. He was special, and he knew it. Not because anyone had ever really said he was special in any way…In fact, now that he thought about it, he was probably almost unique in the fact that not even his own mother had ever said he was “her special little boy” or any such thing mothers commonly say to reassure themselves that Their offspring are not as meaningless as all the other children.
He had known that he was special for as long as he remembered, not special in any specific way, at least to his knowledge, but just special. He was quite certain that he would be someone of significance, maybe not someone famous, someone remembered in history as a Great man, but someone who would change the world in some way. A man in the background, yet someone who made a true difference. Of this he was quite sure, confident even. He had been all his life, and had found no reason that could convince him otherwise, not yet at any rate.
He had, as a child, imagined that he might be a doctor or a researcher who was part of a team trying to find the cure to a dreadful disease. As the one who actually, perhaps even almost* by accident, found the missing key and thus solved the problem that had held them back for so long. Of course he would let the acclaim go to the whole team in general, and to the men with the money. That was the way things worked, he knew. He would not mind, because for him it was enough that he knew it had been His discovery that lead to the cure. He would know, just as he knew that he was special.
Unfortunately, as he lay there thinking, in a pool of his own life’s blood, feeling his strength fade away, he realized that he had been dead wrong. This was that reason, the idea came over him with a crushing force, pushing his last breath out of his body; a faint spiral of air in a dank back alley somewhere where even sunlight neglected to visit. Sebalec would never be special, never change the world in any special way. He would never achieve that personal satisfaction now, because he was dead.
* * *

* He did have give himself some credit and not let it be a fluke, of course.

Reasons and Excuses

Filed under: Uncategorized — Hoffman @ 057 00:22:52 +0000 UTC0 0

Since I couldn’t think of anything else to use this blog for (there are enough actual “stasis”-styled meaningless life diaries floating around online as it is), I decided to just post a few short literary works I created a while back.

I doubt they will appeal to a very large number of people, but maybe a few individuals shall find brief entertainment from my scratchings. So, enjoy, those who will! (Please try to read the stories in order, beginning with Sebalec, then Paranoia and lastly Something in the Works, thanks!)

If you prefer reading about my trip to Australia in late 2007, feel free to have a look at Fourecks.

Oh, and just to help out a friend, if you happen to need a Finnish language project writer, please take a look at Raija Rautakoura.

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