Flying Purple People Eater

These aren’t quite available yet, so don’t get all excited, but they’re seemingly perfect for that special millionaire’s Christmas wish list once they are ready for production…with just a few hiccups.

I don’t envy anyone who lives in an area that sees earthquakes. All natural disasters frighten me…personally my area sees hurricanes and tornadoes. Earthquakes are freaky and scary, not to mention devastating, so it’s wonderful that someone is thinking of ways to protect people during such a terrible event. That said, I believe this particular invention might be just as scary as the earthquakes themselves. Check out the article, it’s brief, has lots of photos and even a video on how these beds work. But basically, they eat the occupant. Yes. In case of an earthquake, these beds swallow up the occupants…sort of reminiscent of your basic go-to terrifying nightmare that you struggle to wake up from.

Although I can see where these earthquake proof “beds” are really cool and might even make for a useful device — once they work out the kinks, such as possible amputations, decapitations, simple full body smooshes, and other scenarios worthy of a top-notch horror movie — I don’t think I’d get a wink of sleep from the stress and anxiety these beds would induce. Being consumed (ha!) by the thought of being eaten by my bed would not exactly be a restful state of mind for me.

Having worked in the construction industry for many years and thereby having come into contact with other, not so conscientious people and companies who built various things, I now realize that said “things” are only as good as the person who built them or inspected them. For instance, what if a particular worker in charge of an important component was hungover that day? Or angry at their spouse and distracted? Or just plain incompetent? What if the company cut corners to win the bid and bought material from a disreputable shop that sells knock-off, look-alike steel nuts and bolts that just can’t handle the structural load pressure of the job?  This is the same reason I don’t go on roller coasters or that insane horse-shoe shaped glass overlook at the Grand Canyon. I just don’t trust people that much. Of course my extreme fear of falling plays into it as well.

But I digress. Back to the people-eating beds.

What happens if a large, heavy work truck rumbles by your house, you know the kind I mean, the ones that make the windows shake, and the bed thinks it’s an earthquake and eats you? No-one’s home. There’s no emergency so people aren’t searching houses.  And you’re just there, living on rations until when?  Is there a timer on these things?  A code to get out?  I can barely remember my computer password; I’m supposed to remember a password for this thing when I’m under stress? Good luck with that. But hey, at least there’s food. I’d stock mine with cookies and Bailey’s. Just in case. Might as well enjoy the time I’m stuck in there.

Or let’s say, God forbid, there is an earthquake…the bed works like a charm, only now you’re stuck in a box that is covered with so much debris that you can’t get out (the article mentions this as being an issue). So you’re just sitting there, maybe for days, maybe for weeks, hoping for emergency personnel to show up and find you, meanwhile you’re watching your supplies dwindle. How do people know to look for you or even what to look for? Any alert sticker you may have put on the window is long gone. Is there an intercom on these things, so you can shout out, “we are here, we are here, WE ARE HERE” at random intervals à la the diminutive Whos from Horton Hears a Who? More importantly, where’s the bathroom?

Regardless of its functionality as a protective device, first and foremost this pimped out motion-activated, padded panic box should be a BED. It should be a place of rest. For me, sleep would be a moot point. I mean, really. In a torture device bed that looks like a waffle iron? Yeah. Right. I’d have nothing but fitful nights filled with images of Leslie Knope looming over me with a spatula in one hand and a bottle of Mrs. Butterworth’s in the other. Not exactly conducive to a good night’s rest. I’d wake up crankier than I do now, and believe me, no-one wants that.


waffle iron bed

click for a link to the Daily Mail article which shows how the beds work…prepare yourselves…

17 thoughts on “Flying Purple People Eater

  1. OMG terrifying. Way scary and being buried alive terror. I’d take my chances with the earthquake and even if I died it would be better than waiting to die in a box. I have nightmares about that, since I saw a movie as as kid where a person was buried alive. No way, not ever. Great, if terrifying, post.

    • That’s what I was thinking. I can only imagine the terror of being through an earthquake and my heart goes out to anyone that has experienced it or might go through it. But surviving only to be trapped in a box with no escape during one? I’m sorry, I would just lose what little of my mind I have left.

    • I wondered the same thing. It looked difficult to remove the snacks out of all of them. They seemed to be under the mattress. I know these aren’t in production and they’re only an “idea” for now, so maybe the inventor will come up with some “fixes” to perfect it. It would be great to have something to keep people safe. Just not sure this is it (the way they are now). And yes, I bet they would make good vampire beds! The black-out shades open too early in the day or hunters knock on your door? Wooosh! The bed activates! 😀 Although you still have the problem of amputations and/or rolling over at the same time the bed activates and getting your head chopped off. Not a good way to wake up and greet the day. 😦

  2. Just terrifying, the thought alone is horrible. I cannot imagine to sleep in such a thing. Rescue somebody? That is still questionable, assuming somebody tries this in case they have overcome fear from the bed itself.

  3. I can see where this might actually make sense, although there are many other much cheaper, much easier, and much less drastic to protect you in the event of an earthquake. Face it, the odds of being in a really big, devastating quake, even if you live in a highly active earthquake zone (like Oklahoma, apparently) are pretty small.

    Having said that, since we survived the big 1994 Northridge Earthquake (we live less than ten miles from the epicenter) I can tell you that the earthquake itself wasn’t the worst part. It was quite memorable, to be sure, but what drove me absolutely up the freakin’ wall were the aftershocks. After the initial quake has flayed your nerves raw, those little “gotcha!” aftershocks will keep you going for YEARS! They die down in both frequency and intensity as time passes – but they never go away. Just about the time you think that it’s finally over, maybe even a year or two later, everything rattles for a few seconds, just long enough to wonder if you should desk-dive.

    I dislike earthquakes. I HATE aftershocks.

    • The only earthquake I’ve ever been in barely shook the car so I’ve been extremely lucky in that respect. I can imagine both the actual earthquake and the aftershocks are scary. What I have seen are some devastating hurricanes that have hit our area. Except for putting your house on stilts and using super-strength construction materials, there’s nothing you can do about that. Can’t really get away from water (unless you leave altogether). The thing about earthquakes and tornadoes (which have also hit close to where I’ve lived) which is so scary is that they are often (especially in cases of earthquakes) unannounced. Tornadoes sometimes can be announced moments before, but still…just enough time to try and hide and wait it out. Mother Nature can be a devastating and frightening force to contend with.

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