Ben has posted a little bit of conspiracy theory driven speculation over on Vanishing Point which suggests that his blog’s nominally inferred prophecy may come about as the result of a yawn.
The yawn, unlike the sneeze is a subtle evil. Where the sneeze is loud, and produces a certain amount of tangible outbound traffic (spittle), the yawn sneaks under the radar. It is silent. There is no wetness to be felt. And yet the damage can actually be of a similarly devastating magnitude.
I have some of my own theories about yawns, which according to my site search thing I’ve never actually written about. Which is a situation that must surely be rectified. Here. Now.
Yawning, as we all know, is a contagious disease. One person yawns, and in the right circumstances it could set of a perpetual motion loop where everybody in a circle yawns, one after the other, dooming them to a harrowing oxygen fuelled existence.
I have a theory about why yawns are contagious. When we yawn we draw more oxygen into our lungs than a normal breath. To yawn in an enclosed space is to hog oxygen. Which, because we are selfish individuals, explains why everybody else in the vicinity also yawns. We don’t want anyone having more than their fair share.
This could one day pose a problem. If a group large enough gathers, and a yawning epidemic spreads, there will not be enough trees in all the Greenpeace wheelbarrows of the world to photosynthesis enough oxygen to replace the catastrophe that would follow.
Once you understand and embrace this underlying understanding of the nature of yawning you are on the path to enlightenment. You are equipped to deal with and understand life in a way that you have not been before.
This new, secret, knowledge gives you an unfair advantage over your fellow man. So use it carefully. Here’s an example.
If you are a single person and you are sitting in a room full of eligible people of the other gender – and you think that a particular member of the opposite gender has quite literally "caught your eye", if say, you think they are engaging in a little bit of casual "checking out" – just yawn. If they were checking you out your yawn will be irresistible. They’ll respond. If not, well, there’s no reason to get your hopes up and have them cruelly dashed.
There’s nothing so painful as unrequited cross auditorium/lecture theatre/church/conference centre love. Harness the power of the yawn and you’ll never feel that pain again.
Comments
‘start the conversation’ is a little daunting. It suggests I have something worthy to say.
Interesting thoughts, though I fear that you are painting the yawn in too favourable a light.
In time you may look back in shame, as you see a whole zombie-movie-esque situation where, the world has caught this sick disease and yawn each other into extinction. Kind of like 28 Days Later, but more sleepy.
From here on in people will get “join the conversation” on this post. I’m playing around to see if a more suggestive link will encourage people out of lurkery and into commentary.
I thought I suitably acknowledged your fears that yawns will be the death of us – while giving people a tool that harnesses the bad for the power of temporary good. Sure, we’re all dying a long, slow, yawning death. But at least we can do so knowing if that girl in the lecture theatre is checking us out – or if our wives are trying to get our attention with all their typical subtlety.
I see. Sort of an ‘eat drink and be merry for tomorrow we die’ sort of vibe.
As for the conversation, I admire your passion for the cause.
Yeah – yawning fatalism.
It looked like it was going to work a few days back. I had three people delurk, and then… nothing.
maybe reverse phychology is the key. Perhaps people fear a needy blogger. What about something like ‘don’t frickin comment, I won’t listen anyway’?
I’ll try that next week. I’m all about changing my designs…
hence my constant state of feeling unsettled