Russian Roulette Sunday: The Remainder of the Reason

Posted on January 31, 2010 in Russian Roulette Sunday | 4 comments

We have quite a strict format for our posts at 7 Reasons.  We post every day and hope that people will read us every day; we appreciate that people come to spend their time with us so we try to respect it and not take up too much of it.  This is why we try to write our 7 reasons concisely.

Sometimes though, this necessary brevity comes into conflict with the writing process.  Once in a while you have an idea and become carried away with it; you start writing and words flow ceaselessly and effortlessly until, having typed for a good while without really being aware of doing so, you snap back to reality and discover you’ve written more words than you can possibly use.

This was the case last Tuesday.  I wrote about aliens and why we shouldn’t contact them, I went on to suggest that they might conquer Earth and install Richard Bacon as their puppet-leader.  That’s where that particular train of thought ended in 7 Reasons We Shouldn’t Try To Contact Aliens.  That was a result of heavy editing though.  Here, on Russian Roulette Sunday is…(Do the deep movie trailer voice again, you know you want to)

The Remainder of the Reason.

…The aliens might not want a global puppet-leader though.  They might understand that Earth’s history abounds with internecine squabbling and conflict.  The aliens might, therefore, want to install puppet-rulers on a nation-by-nation basis.  If that is to be the case then the 7 Reasons team would like to respectfully suggest to our new alien-overlords that they appoint us as Britain’s puppet-leaders.  We feel that we have a good understanding of British culture and history.  We also have the necessary backgrounds and media skills to spin the decrees of our extraterrestrial controllers to the British people.

We feel certain that the aliens will accept our generous and selfless offer so, people of Britain, here’s how we will set about things.

Essentially, we imagine that under our government, the British way of life will remain substantially unaltered.  You, our subjects, may begin to notice some minor changes under our rule though.  All motorways will now have a ginger-only lane, for example.  There will be a minimum height requirement for consumption of tiramisu.  Cricket will be compulsory in all British schools, as will spelling.

We will also be introducing stricter dress codes.  Not only will shopping in nightwear be punishable by death, but so will the wearing of sportswear by people not competing in the pertinent sport at the time of wearing.  The tucking of trousers into socks will be punishable by transportation to Rhyl, as will wearing the wrong coloured top hat at Ascot, gold hoop-earrings, shoes that look like Cornish pasties, jeans so tight that your back oozes over the waistband and wearing jeans and a skirt at the same time, because that looks ridiculous and is, frankly, baffling.

In television, all so-called “reality-shows” will be banned, except for The Restaurant and The Office.  This will leave ITV substantially empty and the gap in its schedule will be filled with Channel Four’s current output.  Channel Four will revert to its schedule of pre-Big Brother days, which seemed to be targeted exclusively at pipe-smoking war buffs, because we like programmes about the war, they’re bloody lovely.  Jon will be launching a new channel called Jolly Interesting Telly, the running of which will keep him occupied while Marc deals with weightier affairs of state and concocts nefarious and elaborate schemes to grasp the balance of power.

It is not just in cultural areas of life that you will notice a difference.  We are already negotiating a series of international trade agreements which will benefit our nation.  The country of Greece has an abundant supply of olives, whereas Britain does not.  We have observed that their diet is lacking in soup, which we have copious amounts of.  We will be shipping our soup-surplus to Greece in exchange for olives, a move which will enrich the dietary variety of both nations.  We will also be exchanging the nation’s apple crop for Burgundy’s output of Pinot Noir and we’ll nationalise Cadbury’s and exchange their entire output for sushi, which is healthier and, frankly, nicer.  We will also be exchanging just about anything we can get our hands on for tea…lots of tea.  All of the tea.

We have also been doing some preparatory work in the field of international diplomacy.  We’re still not happy about the outcome of the Cod War – we thought the Reykjavik Parliament behaved reprehensibly over that and we also don’t believe that the British victims of the Icelandic banking crisis were adequately reimbursed.  Because of this – and also because Jon typed the declaration – we will be going to war with Ireland.

We don’t expect that our leadership will be universally popular.  The installation of Queen Jennifer the 1^st in my spare room may cause some domestic upheaval, for example.  We don’t imagine that the law requiring all public buildings to display a portrait of Jon will be to everyone’s satisfaction either. We will, however, try to rule fairly, even-handedly, openly and sympathetically.  And if you don’t like it we’ll shoot you with our death-ray.  Your leaders,

Marc and Jon.