Skip to main content

Countdown

I think you should start with a countdown. 

Why? 

Everyone loves a countdown. There’s a promise in a countdown. Maybe you know what’s expected to happen, maybe you don’t. But nobody knows for sure what’s actually going to happen. The expectation is only part of what makes a countdown so much fun. You become a part of something when you join a group of people in a countdown. It’s a social event of collective anticipation. It’s a singalong of decreasing numbers. An increase in excitement as the numbers decrease. Whatever you are counting down, something is going to happen when it gets to zero, even if nothing happens. Even nothing happening counts as something happening when you had expected something to happen. It is a wonderland of what-ifs that gets answered at zero - exactly the moment you want it to be answered. What if it doesn’t happen? What’s going to happen then? What if someone important needs the toilet? If a Big Red Button has to be pushed, who’s going to push it? Who decides who to push it? What if the person pushing it has a sneezing fit? What if the button gets stuck? Why are there so many questions about the button? Does the button need to be big and red? What if something goes really, really, really, really wrong? What if nothing happens at all? Who gives out the refunds? Every question is asked without actually being asked from ten to one - it’s all baked into the countdown. Zero swaggers in and answers them all. It’s an exhilarating metaphorical and literal bubble bath of risk and hope and expectation, both for the people who had set the thing up and the people there to witness the thing. There is a glorious simplicity to it. The risk of it not happening makes the happening so much more exciting. And if it does happen, everyone will say the countdown made it even more incredible. Isn’t that why they decided to do the countdown in the first place? 

Should everything start with a countdown? 

Yes, or ended. Or you could put the countdown in the middle somewhere. 

How would you feel about a count-up? Pointless. No one in human history has said they prefer a count-up to a countdown. Everyone knows that eleven follows ten. But no one knows what’s going to happen when the countdown gets to zero. 

That’s a very good point. For the record, I’ve never liked eleven. Prime numbers are weird. 

So what will you do? 
 
I think I will start with a countdown. 

Good idea. 

Thanks.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Samsa & Shabeezi

Samsa was now a human.  He’d recently become a human after his architect decided to put a human heart in him and give him feelings.  The five litres of blood that now pumped around his body warmed him up.  It made for incredible nose bleeds, spasms, cramps and bruising, to name o nly a small fraction of the symptoms, but his architect assured him that it would all be worth it and that he'd feel normal very soon.  He didn't know what normal was, but he knew it wasn't puking and shitting and bleeding all over the place for the first two months and then just feeling terrible for several weeks after that.  Human life is agony, he thought, but he trusted the process.  One day, a little over twelve weeks after the operation, he woke up from his first good night's sleep and was able to open the curtains without the light splitting his skull in two.  Samsa had known Shabeezi before she became a human woman.   All they had done was fight.   Samsa especially liked doing flying

When I Needed a Winter Project, I Turned to Dylan Thomas - a Tommy & Moon Story

Before the snow came the smell of cinnamon. I wanted to track it all the way back to its source, to see who gave it flight. I imagine a woman, seventy-five, making herself a cappuccino next to an open window. The air is cold and sharp but she needs a quick blast of late autumn’s best before she gets out with the whippet. Wisp is looking at her from her basket, scanning for indications from mum that her walk is coming. Don’t worry, Wisp: walkies is imminent - but then a song comes on the radio that she hasn’t heard in fifty years. The Serge Gainsbourg ballad throws her into a deep dream-state, a reverie that takes her all the way back to Paris. She walks to the cupboard to find the cinnamon shaker, brushing shoulders with actors and actresses who’d worked with Godard and Truffaut and Antonioni. She remembers the time she once saw Jane Birkin at a party and witnessed first-hand the effect her beauty had on all the men in the room. I was two miles away from home, running at an easy, stead

An Expert Analysis of Michael Fassbender's Running Style From the Film 'Shame'

Tom Wiggins: What are your first impressions of Michael Fassbender/Brandon's running style? Paul Whittaker: He's running nice, smooth and relaxed. He seems like he has a good amount of fitness and he is running well within himself in terms of pace.   TW: What improvements could he make to his running style? PW: The main improvement I'd make is his foot plant.  He lands heel first and this causes a 'breaking' effect when travelling forwards.  If he landed on his mid-foot/forefoot, this would be a much better for impact stress and propulsion going forward into the next running stride. TW: Regarding his speed, how many minutes per mile is he running? PW : I would say he is running approx 7-7.30 minutes per mile. TW:   What do you make of his stride lengths?  Is he overstriding/understriding? PW:  The actor is definitely overstriding in this clip.  It would help if his feet landed underneath and below his centre of gravity. TW: What's his