Who set the world alarm?
Somewhere in time we were ruled by the dawn. Daylight allowed the majority of the species to function, to stay warm, to see the bear that would otherwise be hiding in your jumper, but even then there were folk that chose to exist a number of hours to the left, at a time when competition for berries wasn’t so strong, and the tasty rabbit could be caught having a nap rather than having to bound after it through a field, cursing its tail as it bobbed away from you.
So, what’s me point? I am part of these peoples’ ancestry. My body clock doesn’t agree with the world beginning at 8am, it never has. For many years I was forced to play along, sitting bleary eyed and useless in offices, sat staring at repeats of Panorama until three in the morning, with the added pleasure of a bloke doing sign language in the corner. Berated for wishing to sleep until ten, a perfectly civilised time to begin the day’s proceedings, because it’s out of synch with the norm. Well, the norm is in bed at ten or eleven, when my head decides to function at its best, and I’m not alone.
It’s time for a second vote. We have electricity. We can function at any time of the day without fear of the dragon lurking in the shadows. Nobody hears the alarm clock and bursts in to song, even all those stars of musicals. So let’s shift the norm and remove judgement of the man who sleeps past seven. Let’s campaign for a new dawn, slightly after the actual, literal dawn, or at least stop imposing the will of the early risers on everyone.
Equality for the sexes, the races, and the people who struggle to nod off in time to get a good kip before the Earth spins back into the path of the sunlight.