Letters to the Editor: Probably Too Unsafe

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The sleeping coffins thing seems to have captured people’s imaginations.

Reader X emails:

I think the mobile coffin/tent idea is probably too unsafe, but I’ve long thought that cities need ‘nap hotels’ that you can rent with a card swipe.

Japan obviously has capsule hotels that sort of check the checkbox, but imagine being in a city for a weekend and just needing a capsule for the night, or even a quick nap between outings. I would use that!

I travel a ton and often pay extra for late check-out just so I can explore in the morning, come back to the hotel for a quick nap, and then leave.

I could see this being an option in other places too – national parks where people do multi day hikes? Have a hostel-type building where people can shower and chill but also have individual sleeping pods?

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Reader Tom comments:

Genius! I can see Sleeping Coffins inc. needing zero marketing for the goth crowd. For the rest of the public…

While doing some research on bivy sacks, I found this gem of a tip from a manufacturer of such equipment: “Cinch the bivy’s hood down around your face, but avoid breathing inside the bivy which can create condensation.”

Not sure if they mean don’t breathe at all? Definitely a body bag in that case!

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Reader Russell comments:

When I visited the Greek island of Hydra (a wonderful town devoid of cars and full of cats) I almost slept under a tree near a monastery to avoid hotel fees.

In the end it rained, and I had an (unwarranted) feeling that I would be scolded by someone for slumming it, so I scampered back to civilization. Next time I’ll arm myself with a bivy sack and more courage!

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Hi everyone.

Russell, you should listen to the episode of Uncanny where two Belfast boys sleep rough beneath a bridge only to be farted on by a French goat encounter the devil himself.

Tom, soon, being dead will be the only way to rest in a city for a decent price so maybe we should just get this business started up!

Reader X, I like the idea of a nap hotel. Hostels can facilitate that, I suppose, though sometimes you can’t check in until 3pm, which sorely limits the napportunities.

Incidentally, I stayed in a capsule pod in London recently. It’s in a hostel I’ve started using on trips to the capital. To rent a dorm bunk at this hostel costs about £23, which is incredible by London standards, but they also offer a pod for about £50. I decided to try a pod this time, but there’s really no advantage over a curtained bunk. You have control of your own ambient lighting but I’m not really sure there’s any point to that when (and this is the way I sleep but others may have a different approach) your eyes are closed.

On Redundant and Neglected Objects

Comedian Richard Herring (who we interviewed way back in Issue 10) is moving house. Packing up his kitchen stuff, he writes in his blog that

it’s weird to touch every single thing that you have in your kitchen in one weekend. And realise that for many things it’s the first time you’ve touched them since you’ve bought them.

As a regular reader of his blog, I know that Rich prides himself on a certain material efficiency. He’s keen on recycling, for example, and on getting every last drop of utility out of single-use carrier bags. And yet…

I rarely if ever have poached eggs at home, but for some reason had at least five devices designed to give you the perfect poached egg that I HAVE NEVER TRIED OUT! Well I did have. Now they’re in a box to go to charity for someone else to buy, put in a drawer and NEVER USE.

Those egg poachers will probably survive way longer than anyone who is alive today and yet never fulfil their purpose of poaching an egg. I don’t know whether to feel sad for them or happy. Is that a life well lived or a waste of existence[?]

I firmly believe it’s a waste of existence. Imagine being one of life’s understudies and never getting to step into the spotlight.

It’s something that bothers me, actually. If I have anything redundant in my home (let alone five of them), I feel sad about it. I want everything in my home to be used. No one thing should be neglected.

Part of my feeling this way comes from my theory that waste happens at the point of origin, not at the moment of disposal. The waste occurs when the raw materials are torn irreplaceably from the earth. If we never mined or extracted oil again and had a completely circular economy, there would be no more waste. Every egg poacher in the world would be either used or stripped for its materials to make something that can be used.

Too much emphasis in eco-guidance falls into the categories of reuse and recycling: not enough people call for reduction. Reuse and recycling theoretically delay more waste from happening, but only a reduction in objects being produced will really solve our problems. And if we want to reduce the number of objects in the world, the first objects to be eliminated should be the redundant ones.

or should I stop giving inanimate objects the power of thought and emotion[?]

It’s called Kami in Japan, the idea that everything has a soul, even inanimate objects. Even if that’s not “real,” it’s useful to keep in mind when deciding if something is living up to its potential or not. It’s perfectly possible for an object to “experience” neglect, exclusion or redundancy.

Oddly enough, the most redundant items in my home are also egg-related: two eggcups. They’re of a groovy mid-century design and taken from my grandparents’ kitchen along with some other bits and bobs when they died. I don’t eat boiled eggs very often so they don’t really get used enough. They’re on the chopping block of minimalism really, but I like them. So I’d better start eating boiled eggs.

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