Car Alarm Chaos Theory

Occasionally someone will point out how lucky I am to live around here, because it's so quiet. Not just quiet, in the sense that not much happens (although that's true as well), but there is so little noise. My cousin - who lives in the south of England - visited a couple of years ago, and while we were walking home after a night out, he stopped in the street and said, "Listen to that...". I gave him what I imagine was a puzzled look, saying "I can't hear anything". This was, of course, his point. It was just after closing time on a Friday night, we were not far out of the town centre, and it was almost completely silent. No cars, no sirens, no drunken shouting, nothing. If I'd had a pin with me, I would probably have dropped it, just to check.

I was thinking about this last night whilst on the verge of drifting off to sleep, and noticing once more how quiet it was. It was at this moment that my mobile phone decided to alert me to the fact that its battery would soon need recharging, by playing an irritating little tune. Not content with doing this once, it will proceed to repeat this performance at regular intervals until action is taken to remedy the situation.

Here's a thought: Wouldn't the battery last a little longer if the phone didn't bother with this type of warning?

And another thing. Car alarms. Why are these still in use, when it's an accepted fact that they don't work? Your car alarm could be ringing for days on end, and no-one would pay a second's notice, because everyone knows the Car Alarm Chaos Theory; if a butterfly in Brazil flaps its wings, your car alarm will go off.

It has been said that if all the people in China were to simultaneously jump in the air, the tidal wave caused by their landing would go around the globe twice. And just think how many car alarms would go off.

Today's music: Gordon Lightfoot: If You Could Read My Mind