Tuesday 20 September 2016

Schrodinger's Smoke Alarm




I have an on-again off-again relationship with my smoke alarm.

Every time I cook food in my kitchen the smoke alarm goes off. I mean it turns on – makes an ear-crushing noise.

This puts me in the strange position of owning something that goes off and turns on at the same time.

Does this remind you of Schrodinger's cat? Me too.

The alarm is somehow both off and on – at the same time. Like the cat – dead and alive.

Seems impossible, but not with the English language to help us along.

Do I turn the smoke alarm off, because it's turned on? Or do I make it go on, since it went off? I can take the battery out, and then it won't turn on or go off, but it will be off. Unless the alarm is hard-wired to the house, so if the hydro is on, the alarm goes off, which is on, and off, if we mean it's gone off. If the hydro goes off the smoke alarm goes off. I mean it turns off, because, as we've established, if we say it goes off, that means it's gone on.

What the hell is going on here?

Do two offs make an on? I know two wrongs don't make a right. Yet two negatives make a positive.

How come a person can carry on but they can't carry off? Instead they have to go off on something, or go on about something, which is the same as carrying on about something, unless the smoke alarm goes off, or turns on, in which case you can't hear what they're going on or off about.

A person can get off on something, or get on and off something (or someone), which I think is kind of the same thing. It's amazing that I can get on a chair or I can get off a chair or I can get off on a chair but I can't get on off a chair. I suppose I could get it on off a chair, but then why mention the chair? It's just not important.

What is important is that I hate my smoke alarm because it won't let me cook in peace. It gets on my nerves and sets off my anger.

I'm gonna turn off my computer and get on some medication.