Think outside the box
I've found this one strange for a long time so I was pleased to finally tackle it.
I do most, if not all, of my thinking outside boxes so I'm not sure why this phrase gets such a regular outing. I think in houses, offices and cars which can be described at being a bit boxy but aren't actual boxes. The only way I could get to the bottom of this would be to think in a box.
I needed a box. A box to think in. A box big enough that I could actually get in.
I popped over to my parents' house. They still have the box their television came in. My young nieces sometimes play in it. It's a boat or more often a spaceship to them. To me it was just a box.
My parents have been used to odd behaviour down the years but I don't think they were expecting me to get into a large cardboard box and sit quietly. They first enquired into what I was doing ("thinking") and then to the state of my health ("I'm alright, leave me alone for a minute").
They were relieved when I finally got out of the box and carried on helping them with the crossword and enjoying a cup of tea as if nothing had happened.
And thinking in a box? Much the same as the thinking outside of a box. Only more cramped and darker.
Conclusion: Inside a box, outside a box. It all seems to be the same. Do your thinking wherever you see fit. But see fit to do some thinking.
Thursday 15 October 2015
Saturday 19 September 2015
Me versus beans and spillages
Spill the beans
Some of these investigations take a long time. Some don't draw a straightforward conclusion. This is neither. This is simple. Don't spill beans.
I have tried spilling lots of different beans in case there was a subtle difference in the results or I could point you at a bean or beans that it might be worth spilling.
I tried broad beans, runner beans, kidney beans, black beans, green beans, pinto beans, mung beans, soy beans, butter beans, fava beans, haricot beans, French beans, cannelini beans and particularly baked beans.
In every instance it made a mess to a greater or lesser degree, it was wasteful and I had to clear up the aforementioned mess.
Conclusion: If you're thinking of spilling beans, don't. No good will come of it.
Some of these investigations take a long time. Some don't draw a straightforward conclusion. This is neither. This is simple. Don't spill beans.
I have tried spilling lots of different beans in case there was a subtle difference in the results or I could point you at a bean or beans that it might be worth spilling.
I tried broad beans, runner beans, kidney beans, black beans, green beans, pinto beans, mung beans, soy beans, butter beans, fava beans, haricot beans, French beans, cannelini beans and particularly baked beans.
In every instance it made a mess to a greater or lesser degree, it was wasteful and I had to clear up the aforementioned mess.
Conclusion: If you're thinking of spilling beans, don't. No good will come of it.
Tuesday 30 June 2015
Me versus Applecarts
Upset the applecart
Have you seen those adverts for cider when you're watching the television? A lot of them show the growing and picking of apples. It made me think. If I could get in on that then maybe I could fulfil my ambition of upsetting an applecart.
My ever-helpful farming friend Lawrie gave me the name of one of his chums who had a cider sideline so I headed to Herefordshire for apple-picking season.
I'm not convinced that my apple-picking colleagues had English as a first language, because training was fairly basic. It mostly consisted of someone pointing at apples and miming picking them up (you don't even pick them off a tree! A machine shakes them off!) and pointing to the 'applecart' and dropping them in.
The big disappointment was the applecart itself. I was expecting a big wooden job with long handles and artisan-crafted wheels. What I got was a sack on a metal frame. And they call it progress!
We filled the 'cart' in no time at all so it was time to upset it. I called it all sorts of names but there was no reaction. Not wholly unexpected due to the inanimate nature of the cart. It was time to get physical.
I gave the 'cart' a mighty shove and sent the apples everywhere. "Hey, take that applecart", I shouted. My colleagues, although they couldn't understand the words, seemed less than impressed with my actions.
The farmer explained later that as my picking colleagues were paid by the cart-load that was probably why they chased me round and round the farm and dragged me back to the orchard to put the apples back in.
Conclusion: Don't upset applecarts - it's just not worth it.
Have you seen those adverts for cider when you're watching the television? A lot of them show the growing and picking of apples. It made me think. If I could get in on that then maybe I could fulfil my ambition of upsetting an applecart.
My ever-helpful farming friend Lawrie gave me the name of one of his chums who had a cider sideline so I headed to Herefordshire for apple-picking season.
I'm not convinced that my apple-picking colleagues had English as a first language, because training was fairly basic. It mostly consisted of someone pointing at apples and miming picking them up (you don't even pick them off a tree! A machine shakes them off!) and pointing to the 'applecart' and dropping them in.
The big disappointment was the applecart itself. I was expecting a big wooden job with long handles and artisan-crafted wheels. What I got was a sack on a metal frame. And they call it progress!
We filled the 'cart' in no time at all so it was time to upset it. I called it all sorts of names but there was no reaction. Not wholly unexpected due to the inanimate nature of the cart. It was time to get physical.
I gave the 'cart' a mighty shove and sent the apples everywhere. "Hey, take that applecart", I shouted. My colleagues, although they couldn't understand the words, seemed less than impressed with my actions.
The farmer explained later that as my picking colleagues were paid by the cart-load that was probably why they chased me round and round the farm and dragged me back to the orchard to put the apples back in.
Conclusion: Don't upset applecarts - it's just not worth it.
Wednesday 13 May 2015
Me versus the Garden Path
To be led up the garden path
I don’t know if you take an interest in the sport of cricket but this week former England batsmen Kevin Pietersen claimed that he was ‘led up the garden path’ about a possible return to the team. I thought that in the interests of research I should indulge in some garden path leading so I can let you know what it’s all about.
Our garden is very small and I can easily traverse it on my own so when I asked Mrs ManVCliche to lead me up the garden path she told me that I was perfectly capable of doing that myself. When I suggested that I would go in a blindfold or at least take my glasses off so I couldn’t see where I was going and she wouldn’t want me to fall into the hazel tree or birdbath she agreed.
We stepped out of the conservatory and made our way up the garden path. Four seconds later we’d arrived, as expected, at the garden gate. I must confess to being underwhelmed.
The garden seems pretty flat but I thought we ought to make the journey in reverse as well in case I’d actually been led down the garden path by mistake. Four seconds later, and with no dramas to report, we were back at the house. Still underwhelmed.
Conclusion: I don’t get it. If someone leads you up the garden path it’s fairly easy to find your way back to where you came from. Unless it’s a massive garden perhaps. Or at night. And you don’t have a torch. Then it might be tricky. I can only conclude that Kevin Pietersen was led into a massive garden somewhere, probably by someone in the England team, and it was really dark and it took him ages to find where he needed to get to and he’s a bit cheesed off about it.
Next time: I upset an applecart
I don’t know if you take an interest in the sport of cricket but this week former England batsmen Kevin Pietersen claimed that he was ‘led up the garden path’ about a possible return to the team. I thought that in the interests of research I should indulge in some garden path leading so I can let you know what it’s all about.
Our garden is very small and I can easily traverse it on my own so when I asked Mrs ManVCliche to lead me up the garden path she told me that I was perfectly capable of doing that myself. When I suggested that I would go in a blindfold or at least take my glasses off so I couldn’t see where I was going and she wouldn’t want me to fall into the hazel tree or birdbath she agreed.
We stepped out of the conservatory and made our way up the garden path. Four seconds later we’d arrived, as expected, at the garden gate. I must confess to being underwhelmed.
The garden seems pretty flat but I thought we ought to make the journey in reverse as well in case I’d actually been led down the garden path by mistake. Four seconds later, and with no dramas to report, we were back at the house. Still underwhelmed.
Conclusion: I don’t get it. If someone leads you up the garden path it’s fairly easy to find your way back to where you came from. Unless it’s a massive garden perhaps. Or at night. And you don’t have a torch. Then it might be tricky. I can only conclude that Kevin Pietersen was led into a massive garden somewhere, probably by someone in the England team, and it was really dark and it took him ages to find where he needed to get to and he’s a bit cheesed off about it.
Next time: I upset an applecart
Sunday 8 March 2015
Me versus the monkey on my back
Get that monkey off your back
This was never going to be easy as I'd had trouble with getting monkeys before. If you can't be bothered to click that link then advertising for a monkey wasn't going to work, buying a monkey off the internet was probably illegal and the logistics of going to Africa or the sub-continent seemed too much like hard work.
The answer was in that previous post and closer to home. The monkey drive-thru at Longleat Safari Park. The monkeys there love climbing on cars so what if I could get them to climb on me.
As an incentive for the monkeys to climb on me I invented a 'food vest'. I borrowed a fire warden's gilet from work and over a couple of nights used double-sided sticky tape to attach various types of nuts and berries.
So not to arouse suspicion at Longleat the food vest was stowed away until I was in the monkey drive-thru. When I was far enough in I stopped the car, got out and put on the vest. I scattered some more food and soon monkeys were showing an interest. I ignored the horns from the cars behind and knelt down offering the tasty snacks taped to my back.
It worked! A monkey jumped on to my back! I went to stand up so I could get him off my back but overbalanced and fell to the ground. The other monkeys saw this as an invitation to eat so rushed me while I was on the floor. As well as the food vest they were clawing at me while I flailed at them, sinking under a tide of monkeys.
I heard a monkey yelp simultaneously with a loud 'crack' noise. The monkeys started to scatter. I then felt a sting in my arm. I looked down and saw a tranquiliser dart. I felt sleepy...
Conclusion One: Probably best not to get a monkey on your back in the first place.
Conclusion Two: That's strong stuff in those tranquiliser darts.
Conclusion Three: I am banned from zoos and wildlife parks for five years.
This was never going to be easy as I'd had trouble with getting monkeys before. If you can't be bothered to click that link then advertising for a monkey wasn't going to work, buying a monkey off the internet was probably illegal and the logistics of going to Africa or the sub-continent seemed too much like hard work.
The answer was in that previous post and closer to home. The monkey drive-thru at Longleat Safari Park. The monkeys there love climbing on cars so what if I could get them to climb on me.
As an incentive for the monkeys to climb on me I invented a 'food vest'. I borrowed a fire warden's gilet from work and over a couple of nights used double-sided sticky tape to attach various types of nuts and berries.
So not to arouse suspicion at Longleat the food vest was stowed away until I was in the monkey drive-thru. When I was far enough in I stopped the car, got out and put on the vest. I scattered some more food and soon monkeys were showing an interest. I ignored the horns from the cars behind and knelt down offering the tasty snacks taped to my back.
It worked! A monkey jumped on to my back! I went to stand up so I could get him off my back but overbalanced and fell to the ground. The other monkeys saw this as an invitation to eat so rushed me while I was on the floor. As well as the food vest they were clawing at me while I flailed at them, sinking under a tide of monkeys.
I heard a monkey yelp simultaneously with a loud 'crack' noise. The monkeys started to scatter. I then felt a sting in my arm. I looked down and saw a tranquiliser dart. I felt sleepy...
Conclusion One: Probably best not to get a monkey on your back in the first place.
Conclusion Two: That's strong stuff in those tranquiliser darts.
Conclusion Three: I am banned from zoos and wildlife parks for five years.
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