Wake me... at bee o'clock in the morning!

The arbitrary connection between time and numbers, foisted upon mankind since history immemorial, has been rent asunder by Johnskyn Kantilever! The tyranny is at an end!

Why, when the sun is at its highest point in the sky, do we assign this situation the number "12?" What is the 12-ishness about it? I can detect nothing of 12 at all! Likewise, when the workday is at an end, where is there a 5-ishness about it? I detect no quality of 5 in the hard slog home from my travails. Instead of numbers, why are not more pleasant titles assigned to these points throughout the day?

Why indeed...

Demagogic lying and calumny! And no longer will I buckle under its yoke!

I have replaced the numbers on my clock with dead insects from my garden, and find the result a marked improvement (as will, I am sure, the rest of Western civilization).

How pleasant to intone that the hands indicate it to be "wasp o'clock in the morning" or "cricket o'clock at night." (True, Bucephalus sounded puzzled when I indicated on the telephone that he should not call me before bee in the morning, but I have faith in his deductive capabilities such that I believe my meaning will not be entirely lost.)