2008 Woodie Awards
HUMOR: Counting sheep does not always lure the sandman
Daniel Walters, Opinions Editor
Issue date: 11/21/06
Last Updated: 12/26/07
Tonight, on The Varnished Truth! Droop your eyelids! Fluff your pillow! Calm yourself down! You've paid for your whole seat, but you'll probably curl up on two! Yawn in awwwwwe, as The Varnished Truth presents a two-part saga: Sleeping with Anonymity: The Awakening.
According to top scientists and actors in lab coats, sleep is vital to the human psyche. Without sleep, serious side effects can occur, including blurred vision, multiple personalities, prophetic visions, visitations by giant rabbits, death and occasionally, tiredness. However, not just any run-of-the-mill, off-brand, flimsy girlyman sleeping will do. You need REM sleep, the Jean-Claude Van Damme of sleep stages.
REM sleep, or "night swimming," is vital (especially for daysleepers) for satiating the mind's constant murmur, its drive, its wanderlust. Heck, it could be the end of the world as you know it, but with enough REM sleep, you'll feel fine. (Though, to be fair, everybody hurts sometimes.) Remember, people with enough REM sleep are shiny, happy, people. REM, of course, is short for "Randy Edward Michaelis."
REM sleep is also, statistically, the best time to put your friend's hand in warm water.
Sometimes, like when you're cruising down I-90, falling asleep is easy.
But other times you need subterfuge to sneak into Slumberland. Somehow, you need to skulk up behind the Sandman, pounce from the shadows and snap his pompous little neck. Here's my flawless seven step strategy for doing just that:
1) At 11:30 step out of the shower and into your silk pajamas. After your meditation exercises and a cup of warm milk, slip into your covers. Smile contentedly as Bill Robinson tucks you in and reads you your favorite bedtime story: Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.
2) Two hours later, thoughts, ideas and Gordian conundrums continue to parade loudly in front of your consciousness. Who am I? How many mitts could a marmot knit if a marmot could knit mitts? What if cantaloupes were full of candy? If Harry Potter rode the New York Subway, would he get muggled? As the night wears on, however, the parade takes a dark turn on the corner of Regret Street and Lamentation Boulevard. What if I had done it all differently? I never should have stolen that Saga Tray. Maybe there was a more tactful way to call him the Antichrist. Maybe if I had done my job, and tightened the bolts on the Ferris Wheel, she'd still be alive.
According to top scientists and actors in lab coats, sleep is vital to the human psyche. Without sleep, serious side effects can occur, including blurred vision, multiple personalities, prophetic visions, visitations by giant rabbits, death and occasionally, tiredness. However, not just any run-of-the-mill, off-brand, flimsy girlyman sleeping will do. You need REM sleep, the Jean-Claude Van Damme of sleep stages.
REM sleep, or "night swimming," is vital (especially for daysleepers) for satiating the mind's constant murmur, its drive, its wanderlust. Heck, it could be the end of the world as you know it, but with enough REM sleep, you'll feel fine. (Though, to be fair, everybody hurts sometimes.) Remember, people with enough REM sleep are shiny, happy, people. REM, of course, is short for "Randy Edward Michaelis."
REM sleep is also, statistically, the best time to put your friend's hand in warm water.
Sometimes, like when you're cruising down I-90, falling asleep is easy.
But other times you need subterfuge to sneak into Slumberland. Somehow, you need to skulk up behind the Sandman, pounce from the shadows and snap his pompous little neck. Here's my flawless seven step strategy for doing just that:
1) At 11:30 step out of the shower and into your silk pajamas. After your meditation exercises and a cup of warm milk, slip into your covers. Smile contentedly as Bill Robinson tucks you in and reads you your favorite bedtime story: Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand.
2) Two hours later, thoughts, ideas and Gordian conundrums continue to parade loudly in front of your consciousness. Who am I? How many mitts could a marmot knit if a marmot could knit mitts? What if cantaloupes were full of candy? If Harry Potter rode the New York Subway, would he get muggled? As the night wears on, however, the parade takes a dark turn on the corner of Regret Street and Lamentation Boulevard. What if I had done it all differently? I never should have stolen that Saga Tray. Maybe there was a more tactful way to call him the Antichrist. Maybe if I had done my job, and tightened the bolts on the Ferris Wheel, she'd still be alive.
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