Unintended benefits
Monday 6th April, 2020 – 2:30pm
I know what you're going to say. There are no possible unintended benefits to the corona virus.
That's nearly true, but not quite. Take paper towels, for instance. Or rather throwing used ones, screwed up into a tight but damp ball, into a waste paper basket at the other end of the room, from the door – a distance of about 18 feet. This is great fun and tests the aim of the user and his steadiness of hand like nothing else. I am now much better at this throw through sheer doggedness and focused practice. The satisfaction to be gained from this as I enter my office from the kitchen (where obviously I have been washing my hands) is fantastic. I can now hurl it in a satisfying loop through the air into the waste paper basket with unerring aim.
Something tells me this is only going to be of interest to my male readers, female readers not being so stupid as to indulge in such nonsense. But it can benefit women too. It is a sport open to both sexes. It sharpens the eye, the reflexes and the control of power in the throw. To begin with, my aim was not bad for general straightness of throw, but sometimes the power was out of kilter and I would hit the wall beyond the wpb or the frame of it, leaving the paper towel on the floor and necessitating the tedium of picking it up. This added tremendous incentive to the whole enterprise. To avoid having to walk over to pick up the errant missile, one had to focus all the more on the throw. Each one is a test of nerve and control. It is quite enough to test the latent caveman in the average male, and adds a satisfying element of excitement to the average day.
I know that many will say how reprehsible it is to be surrounding the tragedy of the corona virus with such small-minded distraction, but the male of the species at least is essentially small-minded and has only a correspondingly small capacity for bad news. The average male hominid needs relief from an uninterrupted diet of endlessly rising death rates. Tiny things like this act as momentary relief and give endless satisfaction if an accurate throw is developed. To see that screwed up paper towel arc delicately into the maw of the wagga pagga bagga is a thing of great delight.
I know what you're going to say. There are no possible unintended benefits to the corona virus.
That's nearly true, but not quite. Take paper towels, for instance. Or rather throwing used ones, screwed up into a tight but damp ball, into a waste paper basket at the other end of the room, from the door – a distance of about 18 feet. This is great fun and tests the aim of the user and his steadiness of hand like nothing else. I am now much better at this throw through sheer doggedness and focused practice. The satisfaction to be gained from this as I enter my office from the kitchen (where obviously I have been washing my hands) is fantastic. I can now hurl it in a satisfying loop through the air into the waste paper basket with unerring aim.
Something tells me this is only going to be of interest to my male readers, female readers not being so stupid as to indulge in such nonsense. But it can benefit women too. It is a sport open to both sexes. It sharpens the eye, the reflexes and the control of power in the throw. To begin with, my aim was not bad for general straightness of throw, but sometimes the power was out of kilter and I would hit the wall beyond the wpb or the frame of it, leaving the paper towel on the floor and necessitating the tedium of picking it up. This added tremendous incentive to the whole enterprise. To avoid having to walk over to pick up the errant missile, one had to focus all the more on the throw. Each one is a test of nerve and control. It is quite enough to test the latent caveman in the average male, and adds a satisfying element of excitement to the average day.
I know that many will say how reprehsible it is to be surrounding the tragedy of the corona virus with such small-minded distraction, but the male of the species at least is essentially small-minded and has only a correspondingly small capacity for bad news. The average male hominid needs relief from an uninterrupted diet of endlessly rising death rates. Tiny things like this act as momentary relief and give endless satisfaction if an accurate throw is developed. To see that screwed up paper towel arc delicately into the maw of the wagga pagga bagga is a thing of great delight.
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