Bed sores, beer guts and an eternity in hell

'Idle hands are the devil's tools.' -- Grandmas and CCD teachers.

Unfortunately, SitOnThings has had a pitchfork in its ass these past few weeks, a seamless stream of days spent dawdling across the northeastern United States. SoT has relaxed in a disturbing amount of deck chairs, comfy beds and dimly lit couches. We have, as the idiom goes, sat on our hands -- and for too long.

Not to be preachy and hypocritical, but SoT submits this expose as proof that our nation is toes over a precipice. Yet, contrary to the banal-cliche-loving media and faculty lounge crowd, 'this tough economy' is not at the root of our evils. Subprime mortgages and the federal deficit are not the problem. Nor are gay marriages, universal healthcare proposals and Congressional green energy iniatives responsible for our downfall (Taxpayer-financed Argentinian homewreckers are -- j/k).

But let's geat real. Society's ills can be traced to one thing: Sloth. 

Slacking. 

Deadbeatedness. 

Or, more bluntly, an invitation to Satan. The party's 'RSVP regrets only' and he ain't calling. Inertia is an aphrodisiac to the Prince of Darkness.

Consider the lazy, slack-jawed children pictured above. The little slugs rot on a lunchroom bench (a bench!) waiting for el diablo to have his way with them. This school, like so many others, is failing its students! Attention kids: it's time to finish your hot dog and fruit punch, get off that stodgy seat and exercise your free will and creativity. 

Stop sitting on your hands. Or else:

Pros: Ample time to think about the next great American novel, you know, the one you'll never get around to writing.

Your mom will make you cold cut sandwiches.

Finally have an opportunity to study your old yearbook and decide which girls you "totally could have got with."

Cons: See Post Title.

HBO and Showtime air the same movies all week long.

From bed to toilet to chair to couch to bed. Repeat.

You will forget how to write well.

If you enjoy hearing "And if you call within the next ten minutes, we'll throw in..." with your back to the television as you surf Match.com, then sit on your hands. Do nothing. Watch your hairline recede and rabbits eat your garden. Just remember, you will have an internet girlfriend who amounts to a steamy pen pal. You will be the last person using Myspace. You will fail to make polite conversation with adults who ask the dreaded "So, what are you going to do next?"

At least Sportscenter is live now.

Stability - 3/5 You cannot slip if you're already stuck in a rut.

Cool Factor - 0/5 Dr. J, Leo and Obama are motivated and ambitious.

Difficulty - 0/5 Your dad does your laundry for you.

Perilousness - 2/5 Your health, your mind, your looks atrophy.

Added bonus - 1/5 The OC on SOAPnet. 

Overall rating - A bleak 6/25

Pour salt in the wound of a dying medium

"Hello? . . . Yes, hi, I'm calling to cancel my subscription . . . Yes, well, I've already stacked a number of old ones on top of each other to use as a video game chair and I really don't need any more . . . What's that? . . . Oh, I understand it's nice to have a hardcopy to hold in my hands . . . Of course I understand newspapers have been the number one news source for the past three centuries . . . I'm sorry, but don't YOU think they've run their course? . . . Yes, well, someone probably should have thought about that before they made all the same content available for free online . . . Look, I understand every cancelled subscription means fewer advertising dollars for you, but that's really not my fault. I simply can't justify wasting hundreds of pounds of paper each year just to glance at the first few front-page headlines so I can pretend to keep up on current events . . . I-- . . . I -- . . . I understand that, but -- . . . Wait, are you kidding me? Did anyone in the newspaper industry even notice the internet, let alone work to adapt to the information revolution? . . . Boxscores? Boxscores! I'm sorry, but do you own a computer? MLB.com updates their boxscores in real-time! . . . Listen, I can't continue this conversation. I understand the newspaper industry is dying, but it's their own damn fault. I'm canceling my subscription . . . Sure, I'll hold." 

Decades from now, it should be funny and a little embarrassing to explain to our grandchildren, that, "Yes, Virginia, people just like you and me had to wait HOURS to read about the previous night's baseball game on a thin, foldable piece of gray paper.  Hard to imagine, right? Wait, there's more! If the game was in L.A. you'd have to wait two days! . . .  No, you get out . . . Prove it? How about this?"

Man, newspapers seem dumb, but at least a stack of papers, or better yet one of those clunky newspaper vending boxes, provides a relatively sturdy seat.

Pros: Subtly show dinner guests that you collect antiques.

Every saved newspaper is one less piece of windblown-trash on the street.

Read a little between your legs to pass the time, that is until . . . 

Cons: . . . Story continued on page B8 -- down by your heels. 

Every saved newspaper is one less crappy blanket. Or one less place to put my gum on the T.

Black ink is to white pants as the the internet is to the newspaper industry.

Gray is attractive, but dingy yellow? Ew. 

You need a lot of twine and patience to secure a bunch of frictionless piles of paper. 

At the the very least, newspapers are good places for your cat to sit and learn where to piss in your house.

Although the hard-copy newspaper will soon go the route of the town crier, bundled Boston Globes, Daily Free Presses and Star Ledgers continue to serve a purpose as a relatively comfortable chair in your attic, garage or basement. 

. . . 

One more thing before the final tally: The death of the newspaper industry will no doubt lead to the movie Bloggiez, a film recounting the golden age of web-based media, which focuses on an ambitious, young blogger's (played by Zach Efron) citywide quest to boost the unique-hits counter of his own unsolicited-and-uninformed-reactions-to-noteworthy-events website in order to secure premium adspace from Google. 

"That's my Adobe Creative Suite 4! You'll illegally download anudder. Hey, bloggers we got woik to do . . "

. . .

Stability - 2/5, Though this number jumps to 3/5 when twine is introduced.

Cool Factor - 1/5 Newspapers are so 1951-square, man.

Difficulty - 3/5 To your wallet, that is. The few newspapers not about to die will soon cost even more.

Perilousness - 1/5 Nope. Sorry.

Added bonus -  3/5 A true piece of Americana -- a genuine newspaper. Again, wow your grandchildren.

Overall rating - A pitiful -- and soon to be worse -- 10/25

A great seat for defying traditional gender roles

'Little' Miss Muffet -- the nickname is supposed to be ironic in the same way you call a really tall guy "Tiny" or an idiot "Einstein" --  sat on her tuffet enjoying her zero-carb curds and whey protein shake after blasting her pecs and abs.  

To clarify, a tuffet is a clothed and cushioned stool, kind of like a small ottoman, usually considered feminine furniture.  Muffet's choice to sit and enjoy her post-workout mix of Muscle Milk and cottage cheese on a tuffet demonstrates her calculating mind, progressive attitudes and mastery of symbols.  You see, Muffet defies stereotypes. She is a modern woman who successfully juggles single-motherhood, a career as a premier personal trainer and a demanding competitive weight-lifting schedule while maintaining her womanliness.

Just because she can bench-press more than most NFL linebackers doesn't mean she can't also hem and pleat the skirt of her lovely tuffet or, for that matter, get a little freaked out when she sees a spider.  Spiders are gross no matter how big your muscles are.

Pros: After choosing the perfect pattern from JoAnn's Fabrics, measuring the cloth so it falls just above the floor and applying the necessary stitches, finally enjoy your handiwork and reflect on your most recent workout.  A true Renaissance Woman.

Force people to rethink their conceptions of femininity. 

With heels on floor four-feet in front of you, grip sides of tuffet and dip body so that backside approaches floor for an excellent triceps workout.

Cons: Tuffets provide no back support, which sucks after you just pushed your lats to the limit.

Fabric layers attract insects and, by extension, spiders.

Really ties a room together.

When the documentarians came to spend a day in the life of Miss Muffet, she could have sat anywhere -- a weight bench, a leather office chair, a locker room countertop -- to recharge after a hard workout.  Instead of a more "manly" location, she consciously chose her tuffet, a symbol of traditional femininity, to promote modern womanhood. Today, women can seek a life beyond rigidly defined roles.  The fun-loving sorority girl can also be an exemplary student and the home-economics teacher can talk baseball like Peter Gammons. The jacked gym-rat isn't just "butch." She can also be an elegant homemaker and doting mom.  Miss Muffet, her protein shake and handcrafted tuffet remind us of that.

Stability - 3/5 -- Tuffet is physically stable, but like Muffet, you can use it to shake up the status quo.

Cool Factor - 5/5 You can be anything you want to be.

Difficulty - 2/5 -- Hard to create, easy to sit.

Perilousness - 1/5 -- Only dangerous if neighboring spider is a Black Widow.

Added bonus -  4/5 -- Pick and choose your own interests, not those prescribed by a conservative society.

Overall rating - A progressive 15/25. 

Eggs are fragile but rewarding

See those thin, brittle ovals resting on a branch stories above the ground? Your CHILDREN are in them. Now go plop your entire body weight on top of them. For weeks. 

Talk about pressure. 

I've heard the rumors that birds are such bad parents that they can't even remember how many eggs they have, but I don't buy it. They love those things. Seriously. They love their kids so much they'll turn bulimic in difficult economic times just so their babies won't go hungry. That's why birds survived the Great Depression and, despite rising unemployment and scarce loans, seem to be thriving right now. 

People are lucky. We have uteruses, papooses, and car seats to carry our kids in. Birds have a cramped circle of sticks, a dank hole in a dead tree or their own spit on which they must sit. And sit. And sit -- the whole time knowing even a load-shifting sneeze could mean a miscarriage while a trip too far from the nest will provide a raccoon with a nice continental breakfast. 

Pros: Whenever your kids whine about not wanting to go to the statewide crafts fair or outdoor sculpture garden that you saw in the paper, just remind them how you dutifully sat for months to ensure their normal brain development. 

Catch up on The Secret Life of Bees and the rest of Oprah's Book Club or sell your busy friends' stuff on eBay (for a percentage).

You can host Pampered Chef parties from your nest . . .

Cons: . . . but be prepared for the old crows you call 'friends' to talk about your unkempt branch, widening ass and generally haggard appearance as soon as they leave.

You have no choice but to go on maternity leave and risk losing your job to some goody-goody kiss-ass fresh out of State who think she's going to change the world! 

Good luck meeting new people. 

If your children die, it is officially your fault and even a lifetime of therapy cannot change that.

Sitting on eggs takes patience, willpower and the perfect distribution of body weight.  It's hard to find a comfortable position when sitting on a bunch of spheres all putting unequal pressure on points across your butt.  To keep from going stir-crazy, the mother bird must only concentrate on the outcome of her diligent incubation -- a healthy kid with a chance to score a college scholarship and later support his or her parents in a moderately priced, but attentive, assisted-living facility.

Stability - 1/5 There is a reason the phrase "walking on eggshells" exists.

Cool Factor - 2/5 Moms wear mom jeans.

Difficulty - 2/5 The fate of your forebears depends on your vigilance and body heat. But again, you are just sitting at home. Possibly in front of the TV.

Perilousness - 5/5 One false move and your baby dies.

Added bonus -  2/5 Step forward every time your mammal and fish friends complain how tough their pregnancies were.

Overall rating - A monotonous, but maternal 12/25. 

Live, Suffer, Die, Rise, Chill, Leave, Sit.

Yes, Sit On Things congregation, He will come again to judge the living and the dead, but until then He is seated at the right hand of the Father -- a not too shabby spot in the grand (some say the grandest) scheme of things.

Dads are cool. They occasionally give you money, remind you you are special and provide a well of life lessons. For most people, however, remaining glued to a dad's side for a couple millennia would get tiresome.

Pros: Learn a firm handshake from your grizzled pop. You are an arm's reach from his right hand after all.

Gripe about the Giants together while watching them lose on the cosmic TV in front of you. 

Chill on clouds with an Earth ottoman.

Cons: Sitting at the right hand of your father may be ever-stimulating if He is also your God, but in my experience, wet tissue paper can sometimes separate awesome bonding and annoying banter. For instance, dads use a lot of puns. Others ask if you've found a job yet. Some do both.

Dads aren't tech-savvy so good luck setting his cell phone alarm and helping him buy tickets on eBay.

In some cases, you sit in that spot because you just suffocated to death knowing the whole time you couldn't save yourself because your wrists and ankles were nailed to boards and your forehead had thorns jammed into it. Oh, and some douch stabbed you in the stomach. 

Although it's hard to overstate the importance of good dads, the dad worth sitting next to forever is rare. Find him and email Sit On Things. I want to meet that dad. (Start at :29)  Until he is revealed, the spot at the right hand of the father seems less and less appealing with each passing minute and G-rated play on words.

Stability - 5/5 -- A dad will never let you down. If only so his progeny may go forth and multiply, thereby continuing his name and memory.

Cool Factor - 1/5 -- 'Drop me off a few blocks from school, please. I can walk the rest of the way.'

Difficulty - 2/5 -- Some, like the man pictured above, take more difficult paths to their seat than others.

Perilousness - 1/5 -- Again, dads are in it for the long hall.

Added bonus -  2/5 - Dads can tell you about girls. Then you realize the girl they have the most experience with is your mom.

Overall rating - A paternal 11/25. 

The Idaho Paradox: Grace when supported by good and evil

Wedged between a bunch of Tetris blocks, shins squished against an uncompromising Wyoming, Idaho somehow manages to retain its dignity and excellent posture.  Consider his pointy head, level and staring on a line toward the East Coast.  With broad shoulders thrust gracefully against Oregon, Idaho grips his elevated knees without showing a hint of discomfort. Clearly, this is a Catholic-school-educated state.

Like an unwavering Civil War general riding stern and straight-backed among his admiring troops, Idaho, cemented in a regal right angle, commands respect. However, sitting atop Nevada and Utah is not for the undisciplined.

Pros: The slight southerly slope from the Pacific Ocean toward the Wyoming intrusion allows you to recline while maintaining a sturdy back. 

Majestic views.

Under 21? Grab some beers from Canada up there.

Cons: Instead of appearing on his shoulders in times of moral dilemma, the angel and devil are an omnipresent force located below Idaho's buttocks and feet.  Sitting in place of Idaho, you will never escape the constant struggle between vice and virtue. To his rear, devious Nevada pries open the gates of Hell as it promotes prostitution, intoxication and games of chance . To his front, Utah offers salvation by way of 3.2 beer, boredom and the denial of every basic human instinct. Truly, a perch above Nevada and Utah forces one to endure an inescapable battle between good and evil.  This is the Idaho Paradox.

There is an active volcano just a few hundred miles from the back of your head!

As you stare longingly at the blinding metropolises of the Northeast, you wonder what could have been had you pursued your MBA or followed your Broadway dreams.

It's like the coldest place in the entire United States. Also, there must be some reason no one knows anything at all about Idaho. 

So long as you can cope with the Idaho Paradox and cold, rigid borders, the region atop Nevada and Utah provides a commanding sentry post.  From here you can monitor 45 states without even turning your head. West Point graduates take note, this position requires vigilance and discipline.

Stability - 5/5 -- United we stand.

Cool Factor - 5/5 -- What is coolness but the respect, admiration and deference of others?

Difficulty - 3/5 -- Though your aching back may scream and your stiff legs may burn, you shall remain Buckingham Palace Beefeater.

Perilousness - 0/5 -- You sit and watch.

Added bonus -  3/5 You are the David Blaine of states.

Overall rating - A rocklike 16/25.

Sitting for tranquility

In the quest for inner peace, spacing out beneath a Bodhi tree beats tapping your head against the ground five times a day or squeezing inside a cold box to nervously tell a stranger how many times you glanced at the mannequins in the Victoria's Secret window.

Directions: Plant tree. Chill beneath it.

You are now a Buddhist.

Surely, the shady spot under a Bodhi allows you to reflect on and then reject the stress caused by passive-aggressive emails, parking tickets and the New York Mets, but unless you're Siddhartha, there remains much to desire.

Pros: Nirvana. As in freedom from suffering.

Awesome excuse to escape the responsibilities and pressures of the real, tangible world.

It's hip as hell -- See.

Cons: Nirvana. As in Kurt Cobain, a Buddhist who offers possibly the worst endorsement for a religion that promotes an end to internal torment.

Your God is considered a vapid fat guy by the majority of Westerners who also rub his smooth gut for luck when they eat at China Buffet. You may think he's this sleek, enlightened teacher with a hair bun, but, whatever, he's a rabbit's foot with manboobs.

'Om Mani Padme Hum' gets annoying after like 45 seconds.

Since more than 360 million people do the exact same thing, is the patch under a Bodhi tree any different from a chair?

Plenty of people dig that silent, enlightened type and will definitely be into your simple poetry. Then again, if you don't move to the Himalayas or renounce all worldly possessions, the rest will think you're a douch.

Still, Bodhi trees have cool-looking heart leaves.

Stability - 3/5 -- Firm and bare from hours of sitting.

Cool Factor - 2/5 -- Some people think so. You included.

Difficulty - 1/5 -- While probing the depths of your soul is hard, resting cross-legged in the shade is Sitting 101.

Perilousness - 1/5 -- Check for beehives.

Added bonus - 3/5 -- Sitting under a Bodhi tree pondering peace is a lot better than sitting around considering why what you believe is so superior to what they believe.

Overall rating - A placid 10/25.