Bic (A History)

In this world, there is a shade of Orange that exists in only four places: Bic Pens, Bic Lighters, Bic Razors, and Buddhist Monks' Robes. Coincidence?

So we have always believed. Until now, when I can finally reveal the shocking truth.

History tells us that Bic came into being in December 1950 when Marcel Bich changed the focus of the company he set up 5 years previously. For the first 5 years of its life, the company had been making mechanical pencils and fountain pens, until Bich obtained the patent rights to a ballpoint pen designed by Hungarian Ladislau Biro. The design was so great that we are to believe Bich dropped mechanical pencils, fountain pens, and the "H" from his name completely. What a load of tosh.

The real story is this:

A Frenchman, a Hungarian and a Buddhist Monk walk into a bar. It is 1946, and World War 2 is still fresh in the memory, but there is great hope for peace and entrepreneurialism. The men are bored, and having little in common to talk about, they begin a game of poker. The Frenchman and the Hungarian are shocked to find that the Buddhist Monk is a poker-genius, and soon he has them over a barrel.

Out of cash, the two beg the kind monk for mercy, and an alternative means of payment. He obliges, and having only ever entered into the match as a means to raise funds for his fellow monks, seeks no personal financial gain. He tells Bich that he will ask for no more cash from him if he agrees to a life-long contract to provide the distinctive Orange robes that he and his fellow Buddhist Monks wear daily. Biro must provide the Monks with all the writing materials they require to whittle away the many boring hours the monks spend when not monking.

It seems a wonderful solution, and all leave happy. Until the next day, when Bich realises that although the Buddhist Monk has given him exclusive rights to the required shade of orange, he has nothing to make the robes from, and no cash to buy materials.Months pass, and Bich receives many letters of complaint from the Buddhist Monk. Fearing that the monks will rise against him, he cunningly changes his name to Bic, and befriends an old business-woman widow in the hope that when she dies she will leave him enough cash to buy himself out of the arrangement with the monks, or at the very least to buy the requisite materials.

Alas and alack, Bic had no such luck. The widow died quickly, and such was her love that she left him all she had - no money whatsoever. Only her failing business: a tired old plastic factory.

After many sleepless nights, Bic finally succumbed to the slumber of fatigue, in which he had a dream of clothes made of plastic! He rushed to the factory and consulted the senior management, who agreed that they had the means and the know-how to produce plastic so thin it could be worn, much like the newly invented nylon. Over the moon, he started production straight away, and within months had a batch of Orange Robes for the Buddhist Monks.

Rather than post them, he delivered them personally. The Monks were delighted with their new waterproof shell-robes. Until a strange occurrence developed. After a few hours of wear, such static was produced that each Monk's hair would stand on end, and electric shocks were administered to anybody the monk touched. Although this had great potential, the monks were a peaceful people and had no use for such weapons of mass destruction. They sent Bic off to think again, but as they'd disposed of their tattered old robes, they had no choice but to continue wearing the shell-robes. They soon learned to shave their heads, and presumably any other hair.

Try as he might, there was nothing Bic could do to raise enough cash to buy material for robes. At the end of his tether, contemplating suicide, he threw himself on the mercy of the monks, and offered to repay his debt by joining them. Appalled at the thought of such an inept fool joining their number, one young novice stepped forward and spoke wisely:

"This man's heart is not in following the path of Buddha. Let us continue to wear these robes until such times as another poker game can be won, against a man more useful. In the meantime, Monsieur Bic can assist us by producing razors with which to shave our heads, and lighters with which to light our candles. If he liaises with Mr Biro, then he can save money on the materials he uses to make our pens."

And THAT is how it came to be that this particular shade of orange can be found in only those four places!

Disclaimer: Any similarity to real people, places, or events is entirely coincidental.

Elton

Courtesy of Mathew: "Who'll play the piano at Elton John's funeral?"

The Lucozade Pee Chart

There is such a thing, and it's a seriously useful publication.

The pee chart (and it really is called that) looks a little bit like an excerpt from one of those wee brochures you pick up from the paint shop, when you can't quite decide what colour you want to paint your walls.

There are three categories - Target; Dehydration; Severe Dehydration. Each of these categories is split into numbers and shades, 1 being the ultimate target, and 6 being the most severely dehydrated (I'm not sure if it's possible to score off the chart in either direction).

What I like most about this chart is that it's extremely considerate. It tells me that "when you are well hydrated, your pee should be the colour of pale straw." Now here, I'll confess, I sensed a flaw. I'm a bit of a city boy (or town at least) and I've no idea what colour pale straw is. I mean, show me two piles of straw and I could tell you which is paler, but I'd have no idea of it was pale straw, or just paler than the less-pale straw. So to help me out, Lucozade kindly follow with a much more useful sentence: "This relates to colour 1 or 2 on the chart". Good Lord! I now know that pale straw is the colour of my pee when I'm well hydrated!

There's also a bit that explains the effect of body water loss on performance. This is useful... I now know that at 2% I suffer impaired performance (maybe we should introduce a pee test for drivers?) and at 4% my capacity for muscular work declines (maybe we should introduce a pee test for labourers). 6% results in Heat exhaustion, 8 % in Hallucination, and 10% in Circulatory Collapse and Heat Strokes.

Now here is a missed opportunity. I quite fancy the idea of some mild hallucination, but Lucozade don't give any indication of the colour of your pee versus the % of dehydration! I don't want to overshoot the mark and go straight to Circulatory Collapse or Heat Stroke. But I guess they have to protect themselves, as what if i you got to your 8% sooner than expected, but hallucinated that your pee was the colour of pale straw, and next thing you know you're facing Circulatory Collapse and Heat Stroke? 10% spells L-I-T-I-G-A-T-I-O-N.

For your information, it would appear that I'm usually somewhere between 4 (lower Dehydration) and 5 (upper Severe Dehydration). I'm sorry that I can't tell you farmers where in agriculture you'll see similar colours.

This is the sad thing I've discovered though... when my pee is the colour of pale straw, I piss like a frikken race-horse. My body seems to like being 4 or 5, and does its best to dehydrate me again when I'm trying to hydrate it!

Either way, please sign below if you'd like to see Crown or Dulux re-name some of their shades to tie in with the Lucozade pee chart. If we raise awareness, paint-shades will no longer be the exclusive property of women and effeminate men... Like street-signs in Welsh AND English, we'll be able to tell (thanks to Lucozade and our own pee) that when women say they want to paint the walls "magnolia" they really mean "Stage 2 - Target Hydration".

However, do not misinterpret the request as "Invite the boys round, drink 5 litres of water each, and piss up the walls."

He's Just Not That Into You

This movie never ends. Ever.

Aliens

Is the human race too conceited or just naive?

Why is it that whenever we consider the possibility of alien life forms, we almost always imagine them as being at least vaguely humanoid? I can't think of too many representations that haven't followed our basic shape - 2 arms, 2 legs, 1 head etc. Of course, there are exceptions, but I'm struggling to think of any right now [message from the future - I've just remembered the Tralfamadorians from Slaughterhouse 5] - filmic representations and even allegory from those who claim to have been abducted (but never just invited) by aliens all seem to follow this same basic concept. One part may be tweaked (tentacles instead of arms, maybe; no legs, perchance) but it's generally the same old story.

Why on [insert your home planet of choice] would this be the case in real life? We've evolved into this body shape as it's what's required to be top of the food chain in our environment. Yet we still share this planet with cats, dogs, birds etc. and I'm sure the dolphins are only biding their time until they prove that they truly are the most evolved life form on the planet - secretly sponsoring the causes of global warming so the ice caps melt, the world is drowned and they take over.

Wouldn't life-forms that evolved to survive and thrive in different environments be more likely to have evolved in different ways? Fishy aliens (or dolphins!) from oceanic planets, amorphous blobs from... well planets where that's what it takes to be king?

It's almost as if we're claiming that we're nearing perfection. This claim is given added weight when we consider the most common depiction of aliens that may have travelled to our planet. Because they've mastered space-travel we consider these ones to be intellectually superior to us, and signify this by giving them diminished bodies, and larger heads to house their larger brains.

Doesn't this go against our concept of evolution though? We've created a world that focuses on reducing the size of things as we improve them (with perhaps the exception of televisions). The first computer was the size of a large room and could just about add 2 + 2. I'm typing this on a laptop that's... well, small enough to fit on top of the average lap, while it runs multiple applications in the background thanks to the tiny microscopic chips inside it, and the processor that only 10 years ago we were convinced would never be able to reach 1 gig without melting. Wouldn't highly-evolved beings be more likely to have increased the efficiency of their brains so much that they could be much smaller, do much more, and be stored somewhere way less obvious and more safe than an over-sized head atop an under-sized body?

So yeah, I've come to the conclusion that we're just too conceited. And, strangely, it's angered me somewhat. I hope the space-tadpoles consider this when they invade, and save me a gruesome death!