forty-winks o siestario

Demonstrated health benefits aside (provided that one’s work and life framework can support it), the Spanish government is considering labour-reforms that may curtail the tradition of the siesta. Interestingly, as ingrained as it seems in Spanish lifestyle and it is common-place across the Mediterranean as a way to avoid working through the hottest part of the day, the connotation of the prolonged afternoon nap with that country probably has more to do with advertised or perceived business-hours than cultural prevalence, the extended lunch and workday being formally instituted in the immediate aftermath of the Civil War, when it was necessary for everyone to hold multiple jobs to make ends meet.
As there was little in the way of public transport, workers were granted a two or three hour break to make it to their second job and to work a full-shift, hours extended until late in the evening. The situation was exacerbated when Spain’s time zone was aligned with Berlin—out of solidarity with Nazi Germany though geographically much closer to London. As economic conditions gradually improved, this work-schedule took on the reputation of labourers being able to sneak home for a nice long and refreshing nap and worked until later in the night. The reality, however, sociologists believe is that the siesta-ideal is far from practical and is exacting too high a toll on workers and their families. The Spanish word for the concept of a power nap is siesta poderosa. In reality, few live close enough to their workplaces to consistently get away and take advantage of siesta-time and it causes havoc for your children and parents—rarely being able to settle down and turn in until after midnight. What do you think? Compared to counterparts in other European countries, Spaniards are just returning from lunch as others are getting ready to go home for the day, and for more and more something to be envious of. Alternatively, we could all institute a culture of napping and be a bit more flexible with what we think of as an honest day.

whether square-cut or pear-shaped

Geochemists at the University of Bristol, concerned with the mounting problem of what to do with spent radioactive material, have found a novel way of sequestering small bits of it safely to create gemstone batteries that could last for potentially thousands of years, corresponding to the half-life of the nuclear waste used to generate the modest but enduring charge. The waste is vapourised and inserted into the stone, which as the hardest substance in nature, are not prone to degradation or leeching out any radioactivity. There are hurdles to overcome, to be sure—not the least being the casing to house a gram of the nuclear cell is prohibitively expensive (but maybe cubic zirconia would be just as sturdy a substitute) and the output isn’t nearly as robust as most modern applications demand, but one day perhaps our cybernetics (pace-makers, auxiliary memory enhancers, bionic livers) or our robotic domestics might be powered by a little spark of radiation trapped inside a diamond.

the ghost of christmas pluperfect

Collectors’ Weekly has a nice reflection on the diaphanous and sparkly things that have fuelled how we frame Christmas time, hitting on how strange it is to think that our shared nostalgia—even having lived in Germany for all these years, a place stepped in its own tradition and exporter (in the Victorian Era—and much later, their glassmaking expertise) of many of the standard customs—for the most part don’t reach back to time immemorial but rather to post-war America and Mid-Century Modern style.
Despite all the fossilised lyrics of carols, in fact, almost all that’s not the reserve of the space-race and the burgeoning atomic age seems to be sourced back to the nineteenth century, and with Christmas’ revival (which quickly became something terrible and consumer-oriented), Victorians sought to keep it something pure and authentic—turning away from machines and mass-production and launching the Arts and Crafts movement. The spectre of materialism was always there but was particularly difficult to stave off after the austere years of all manufacturing going to the war effort and then industry finding itself surfeit with raw materials and excess capacity and beat swords into plow-shares—and tinsel and coffee-makers and vacuum-cleaners. Santa Claus was even accredited as an astronaut (and as a cosmonaut) to be tracked by NORAD. Reaching back even further, the holiday, supplanting Saturnalia, has always had its share of ulterior motives and customs that have the most curious and conflated origins but it’s no reason to humbug Christmas—nor to despair over its meaning and its keeping
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manual communication

Thanks to the marvellous Madam Jujujive, we appreciate that of course hearing impaired communities would also be interested in nominating and selecting words—or signs of the year. For its inaugural honour, the Swiss Deaf Association chose to bypass other novel gestures (Gebärden, signes, segnes, segni) such as the way of expressing vegan, Netflix or deportee and went with the sign inventedfor Donald Trump. Referencing the hair of course is brilliant but I could think of cruder but deserved ways of getting the message across just as quickly.

minced oath

While I cannot vouch for the veracity of any of these substitutions, I did rather enjoy this lesson on euphemisms for swears in other languages. True or not—I can say that I’ve never heard someone self-censoring calling someone an ass-hole (Arschloch) by calling them a candelabra (Armleuchter), they’re certainly fun to say and saying crumbs or consarnit or any number of muted expletives, especially in the heat of the moment and not just out of disbelief. Possibly the best to adopt from this batch is the Romanian nuanced way of exclaiming, “What my feather?”

fahrvergnügen oder reitgenuss

A locomotive that formed part of the German national railway fleet back in the 1970s has revived its vintage harvest orange carriages in a private, crowd-funded venture to bring discriminating passengers from Stuttgart to Berlin, with various whistle-stops along the way. Outside of a few tourist trains along special routes, I can’t recall seeing anything but Deutsche Bahn trains at the station but am given to understand that there are no barriers to competition, if another carrier has the engines and the staff to run them safely.
Though not a substitute for commuters and those on a tight schedule, Locomore aims to attract a certain base of clientele—at a quarter of the cost of the regular fare between the two metropolises at a mere twenty-two euros, that feels the journey should be a pleasurable and social responsible experience. The six-hour trip (and travel by train in general) is powered by renewable energy sources and offers organic (Bio) and locally-grown drinks and snacks. Moreover, the cars are outfitted to invite passengers to join communities in different compartments for those who might want to take in a work-out, photograph the passing countryside, chat over coffee or sequester their children during the journey. I think it would be leagues more enjoyable to travel in this sort of bargain luxury, rather than the harrowing car trip or one of those long-distance buses—that are just as prone to getting stuck in a Stau (traffic snarl) as any other vehicle on the road, even if you can leave the driving to someone else. I think I’ll have to hitch a ride to points north on the Locomore express, seeing that they stop in Frankfurt and are planning expansion to more destinations.