I know. Feet are neither hot, nor sexy. In fact, when they’re hot they’re actually anti-sexy. A cute, dutch librarian with a short skirt tucked into her knickers is sexy though. This is why you should never put your hot feet on a cute, dutch librarian with her skirt tucked into her knickers: the universe will implode!
This week I agreed to let the good people of the National Health Service lay me down and suck out an eighth of my blood. I’d like to think that my blood was used to save the life of a victim of sudden-tree-on-head syndrome or sudden-seagull-embedded-in-sunbather’s-stomach disease but I’m fairly certain that it is being used to implicate me in a crime I didn’t commit which will eventually see me track down the real perpetrator and kill him with sellotape. I shall sell the rights to this little episode to a small company who will produce a made-for-TV movie starring Corey Haim as me.
As I waited for my name to be called in the blood donation hall I became aware of a woman sitting next to me. I couldn’t help but become aware of her. It could have had something to do with her large frame. It was possibly something about the vest several sizes too small that accentuated every Michelin Man-roll of flab. Something about the excessive sweating definitely kept nagging at my core. I suspect, overall, that it was mainly something about the way she kept removing her sandals and picking at her toes while the smell – nay, the stench – assaulted my nostrils, got past my Heavy Nosehair Brigade first line of defence, swarmed through my Membrane Barricade, and got involved in a pitched battle with my crack Tastebud Legion in the back of my mouth. My brave little legionnaires fought the good fight but there was a doom settling over the arena and I knew I could not hold back the Gag Reflex Shock Vomit Corps Berserkers for much longer. This was it: do or die! Luckily, her name was called out at that moment and she, and her Aroma O’ Death, moved away.
Feet. And toes. What are they for? Why do they look like they do? Why do my toenails only grow sharp bits that catch on bedsheets during the night?
A little bit of history first: originally we were amoebas (if there’s another word for the plural of amoeba then please pretend I used it) and feet were unnecessary as there were no shops to go to. After a while we became fish which was handy as there was water in abundance. Again, feet were unnecessary as flippers hadn’t been invented. Suddenly, land sprang up from the ocean depths and us fish – inquisitive folk – quickly mutated lungs, legs and feet into existence. The lungs were for breathing (and still are!), the legs were to propel our bodies, and the feet were for picking up all the new things we found: pebbles and twigs and AOL CDs and other such miracles of nature. It wasn’t long before we spotted bananas up trees and became monkeys, the perfect shape for climbing and grabbing yellow fruit. And also for flinging poo. At about this time in the distant past a passing generational spacecraft developed a fault and had to jettison all the dinosaur bones its art students had created. These crashed to Earth, killed many of us, missed many more, buried themselves deep in the soil or tar pits, and scared the living bejeesus out of most of us apes. We held a general meeting and decided to evolve again to something that could build our own spacecraft and missile defence shields to prevent any more life-threatening showers from outside the planet’s orbit. We became taller, grew larger brains, upgraded to the opposable thumb model, accidentally switched off the tail gene et voila.
Sadly, something went wrong with the feet. They were supposed to be cute like cats’ paws. The claws might have been handy too. Somewhere along the line they went bald except for occasional tufts of hair on the toes, the toes stopped at a size that most biologists describe as "next to bloody useless", and we were forced to come up with the idea of "shoes" and "socks" to hide our shame. Also to give the women something to shop for. Just kidding. You lot would have found something to buy anyway.
So, here we are. Lords and ladies of all we survey but lords and ladies with poorly-designed appendages. I think it’s time we kicked in the old evolutionary drive once more and sorted out feet once and for all. In order to help everyone achieve a consensus on this issue I’ve decided to outline some proposals for Future Feet™!
Proposal 1: Segway Feet
The first thing anyone thinks of when they’re thinking of improvements for feet is "wheels" but wheels are so last decade man. What we want are advanced wheels with gyroscopic stabilisers in them.
- Wheeled travel will use far less energy than walking travel which is good for the environment and our health as we won’t have to eat so much,
- wheeled travel will reduce the necessity for cars which is also good for the environment.
- Getting up the stairs will be difficult and coming down will lead to a sharp rise in visits to the casualty department,
- football will need to be renamed,
- no more long-legged lovelies in stilettoes.
Proposal 2: Rocket Pods
Although it would be nice to have some form of magnetic, levitating or anti-gravity technology I thought it best to stick with what’s possible and not dive off into the realms of fantasy, hence rocket pods.
- Stairs problem of the Segway solution are removed; hell, there’s no need for stairs at all,
- escaping from burning buildings will be far simpler.
- Energy requirements of rocket pods is not good for health or environment,
- we will need to evolve ear defenders for the increased noise pollution,
- most burning buildings will be caused by accidental rocket pod flamings.
Proposal 3: The Cthulhu Option
Feet are currently things that get us from point A to point B and the two proposals thus far have done nothing to improve upon this. This proposal changes that by substituting increased speed with advanced functionality. I humbly suggest that the next evolution in feet is the octopus- or squid-based tentacle system.
- You can lay in bed and turn the TV off … with your tentacles,
- no more cheesy feet,
- dancing on the ceiling will be possible for everyone and not just Lionel Richie.
- Not everyone likes the smell of the sea,
- flap, flap, flap, flap, flap, flap, flap.
I’m certainly leaning towards the last option. It’s not as if you can make feet any uglier and to give them a practical use makes sense. Feel free to vote for your favourite or suggest your own in the comments. Or not. It’s not as if I’m going to come around and kick your door in if you don’t. If I had tentacle feet I’d probably find that impossible anyway.