Point/Otherpoint: Coffee

by Sean Adams and Randall Cleveland

Today is National Coffee Day, which we're assured is a 100% legitimate holiday and not just something cooked up in a Starbucks marketing department somewhere, and baristas everywhere are celebrating by...well, by being forced to work even harder to accomodate all the mooches wanting their free cup of coffee. But is coffee all it's cracked up to be? Sean Adams and Randall Cleveland argue their points as fiercely as they would fight for the mud cup...

On the path to enlightenment, there are no stops for coffee
by Sean Adams

Does the sun require caffeine to rise? Must the rooster indulge in a mug of dark roast to greet the morning? Is the Earth’s spinning aided in any way by the consumption of warmly brewed beverage? The answer to each of these questions, my friends, is no.

Waking up is my motivation to wake up. Each morning when I open my eyes at 5am, I say, “congratulations, Sean. You have won! The darkness did not take you prisoner! The night did not consume you! You are whole and you are wonderful!” And then I leave the house and roll in the lawn, bathing myself in the only water source I can trust: the fresh morning dew.

We, as a race, need not fear the effects of sleep. When you drink a cup of coffee each morning you are essentially smothering your sleeping self with a pillow. You are telling the tired you, “I am far more concerned with the heaviness of your eyelids than the validity of your ideas.” But if you gave your tired self a chance, you might find that he’s actually an amazing human being.

I, myself, often get some of my best work done when extremely tired. I’ve written some of my best poems and whittled some of my most detailed wooden bird sculptures just out of bed, crafted some of my finest vegan paninis, performed a few of my greatest one man shows, and trimmed some fantastic hedge sculptures after restless nights of little to no sleep. And yet, for some reason, society tells me that I require coffee to function? Ridiculous!

Man invented the car, but now man takes after the car, filling himself with a dark, dangerous liquid in order to move forward through life. But it does not have to be this way! We can overcome our dependence on coffee, just like we can get overcome our dependence on foreign oil by trading in our cars for alpaca-drawn-carriages!

Please join me, and we will let our eyelids droop in happy unity!

Coffee is the Only Thing Keeping Me From Killing You and Everyone Else in This Office by Randall Cleveland

Let me be honest right off the bat, here: I don't give a flying crap if you like coffee. Your wants, needs, likes, and dislikes are absolutely subatomic on my radar of stuff to worry about. But in order for you to understand the importance of a day like National Coffee Day, let me make one thing perfectly crystal clear:

Coffee is the only thing keeping me from murdering you in your pathetic little cubicle right now.

Mankind was not made to waste away at a desk under fluorescent lighting while staring at various flickering screens. But hey, I recognize the status quo, and since I feel like mankind was also not made to live in dumpsters I understand that I have to hold down a job. Which means 40-60 hours a week in here, sitting at a desk.

With you people.

But on the weekends, my time is mine. I can do whatever I want! I can run and laugh and jump and swim and kayak and mountain bike and hang glide, or at least I would do those things if I wasn't so beat down and defeated by the end of the week that I can barely muster the energy to sit upright on the couch to watch whatever Jamie Kennedy travesty Comedy Central is running eight times in a row. And when I close my eyes every Sunday night, after I wipe the tears away and accept that yes, tomorrow I will have to go to work again, I dream. I dream of flying through an endless, cloudless sky as blue as any sapphire. The wind rips along my back and through my hair and I laugh, joyously, at the freedom I've never felt but always knew I needed to feel.

And then, like some unsympathetic prison guard, the alarm clock jolts me awake. And I'm forced to trudge to my car, still half asleep and longing for the blue sky, and drive through an hour and a half's worth of commuter traffic to finally reach my destination: a place I hate with the fire of 10,000 suns.

And then you show up, all chipper and stupid, and say things like, "I don't know how you can drink that stuff! It stains your teeth! Hee hee!"

You know how I can drink this stuff? I grit my g** damn teeth and I drink it. I hungrily savor the decadent stuff from Kona, and I pull a John Wayne and tough through the gritty instant crap when that's all we have. I drink it because it's the only thing that kills the pain. I drink it because even as I'm explaining this to you, even as I'm doing my best to explain my situation and try to earn your understanding, all I can think about is grabbing your tiny muppet head with both hands and squeezing.

I want to squeeze your head so f*&^%ing hard your eyes explode like over-ripe cherry tomatoes. Do you have any idea how many items in a typical office could be used to commit cold-blooded murder? Because I do. I think through a new scenario every morning before 8:15 rolls around and there's finally a fresh pot. I could push the snack machine over on top of you. I could force feed you Post-It Notes until you're fully taxidermied. I could probably put enough force behind a Dry-Erase marker to lodge one in your skull. Hell, I could bludgeon you to death with this very coffee mug if it weren't the vessel for the life force that keeps me and you and everyone else in this s*&t hole alive.

So yeah, you could say I'm a fan of coffee. But if you're going to say it, do me a favor and say it way the f&%^ over there, because my head is killing me this morning.

(All photos are stock photos purchased by Woot.)