Author: 7 Reasons

Russian Roulette Sunday: 7 Reasons Esq

Men of the world, have you ever been in the company of a woman? Has that woman ever told you she used to be a gymnast? Were you wearing a scarf at the time? If you answered ‘Yes’ to all three, you need to buy the February issue of Esquire.

Of course we wouldn’t just tell you to buy a magazine without good reason. Naturally, nor would we give you just one good reason. That is not how we operate. Except on Sundays. Because on Sundays, anything goes. And on Sundays we really can’t be bothered to think that much. So your one good reason to buy the February issue of Esquire is that we are in it. That’s right, after 15 months of web based reasoning we have moved across to printed press reasoning.

I say ‘we’, in truth I should probably say ‘Jonathan Lee’, because in a rather unfortunate episode of crediting, the name ‘Marc Fearns’ is no where to be seen. When you consider that Marc devised four of the seven reasons this is a cruel and a damning twist of fate. Marc is a fairly stoic character however, and so when I (that’s Jon) sent news of our publication and lack of credit to York, I was expecting him to take it in his stride. This was Marc’s response:

“That’s like getting an enormous, beautifully wrapped box for Christmas only to discover that it contains a brick. And a lemon. I suppose that this is some form of progress though. Well done on getting published. You know those embittered, crazy, dishevelled old men that hang around train stations and regale you with unsolicited and doubtful tales of their own accomplishments? “I devised a text-in format for Richard Bacon…I made my cat walk on foil…I used to write for Esquire…Robert De Niro stole my hat…I once met the Queen of the pigeons.” This is probably how it starts. Can you get them to put a retrospective credit in next month or should I start growing a grey beard and soiling my own trousers now?”

Now, I know exactly what word has sprung to mind. Immature. And I know immature sprung to mind because that is exactly what it did in mine. I have little time for immaturity and over-reaction in my life, so I ignored him. Which, in hindsight, was a bit like poking a big beast with a hot poker. After twenty-four hours without contact, Marc sent me a new email with ‘New Logo’ in it’s subject. Thinking that Marc had obviously mellowed overnight and was now concentrating on the design of the site, I openned the attachment with intrigue. This is what I found:

Now, I know exactly what word has sprung to mind. Petty. And I know petty has sprung to mind because that is exactly what it did in mine. I have little time for pettiness in my life, so I have continued to ignore him. Which only provoked the Yorkshire beast more. We are now in a stand-off John Wayne would have been proud of. Marc keeps firing photoshopped images at me and I keep shielding myself with my ego. Time will only tell whether 7 Reasons comes through this tricky patch, but just in case we don’t, we strongly advise you to pick up Esquire now. It may be the last time you will ever see 7 Reasons name in print. Well, Jonathan Lee’s anyway.

January 9, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Create The World’s Smallest Multinational

We like to think 7 Reasons is a pretty big organisation. We have offices in York and somewhere in Kent. We have a website, a facebook page, half a cat each, a specially designed sofa and a presence in Jennifer Anistons ‘Most Wanted Book’. That’s pretty good going in anyone’s language. Or so we thought. Now, one man has made us reassess. That man is Sebastien Eckersley-Maslin. In just four weeks Sebastien created the world’s smallest multinational. With offices in Sydney, Japan, London, Paris, New York and San Francisco he has made us look quite stupid. And this is why he has done it:

Sebastien Eckersley-Maslin – CEO Sebastien International

1. To Show That You Don’t Need To Be Big To Be Big. It’s that old David and Goliath story – you know, the one where the little guy in the cool minimalist leather sandals kills the big bad giant fellow using nothing but a slingshot. Well, the spindly lad with the cool footwear, that’s me that is. The Sebastien International web series is thus a timeless tale that any Friday night drunk who’s ever landed a lucky punch on a pub bouncer and got away with it can relate to.

2. To Keep Osteopaths In Business. I visited 6 cities in 12 days to make this thing happen – Sydney, Tokyo, London, Paris, New York and San Francisco. And in a generous gesture to my osteopath (who will be manipulating my buggered back and neck from now until kingdom come), I flew economy the whole way.

3. To Take On The US Navy In A Pull-Up Contest. My visit to San Francisco coincided with Fleet Week and I somehow found myself being challenged by burly US Navy recruitment officers to show my stuff on their pull up-bar. Fearing some 21st century King’s Shilling style press gang ploy, I nevertheless gave it my all. I left with burning biceps, clutching a Navy issue Frisbee. God bless America!

4. Because Capsule Hotels Rock. Great Granddaddy Eckersley Maslin used to say: “Son, you don’t get rich by blowing cash on fancy hotels”. So on the Tokyo leg of my trip, I spurned the offers of the camera crew to join them at the Intercontinental, and instead opted for the simple joys of a capsule hotel. Having been made to shower and undress in a communal changing room and stash my belongings in a public swimming pool style locker, I made my way to my capsule. I slept like a…….cigar.

5. Because I’d Never Have Got Anywhere If I’d Stayed In London. Quite literally! The one day of meetings I had in London, a Great British tube strike brought the city to a standstill. I’m convinced all London Underground staff had actually just pulled sickies and stayed home to watch the Ryder Cup. Whatever their excuse, it was bloody inconvenient.

6. It’s A Great Way To Get On Camera. No one wants to make films about people lounging about doing nothing (apart from the French, and no one watches their movies apart from other French people taking a break from lounging around doing nothing). So if you want a great film or series made about you, you’ve got to think BIG and get on and do something BIG. Please now indulge me a quick plug for the Sebastien International web series www.smallestmultinational.com/webseries/ Trust me, you’ll like it.

7. Because You Can. The simple fact is that with the right idea and the right support, any bright-eyed Herbert can take on the world (Herbert International does have a good ring to it.) Talking of support, (another shameless plug, I know, but do bear with me) I couldn’t have set up a multinational company alone, in twelve days without my sponsor SERVCORP. These guys provide serviced and virtual offices in most major cities across the globe. You can basically get an office, a receptionist, a dedicated PA and IT infrastructure at some of the most prestigious addresses in the world, for a tiny fraction of the price of actually renting an office – and without having to deal with all the hassle of finding and renting space. If you like the sound of “International” after your name or even just need a business phone number and address in your home country, you should check them out – www.servcorp.com

For more information about Sebastien International and the project head over to www.smallestmultinational.com.

January 8, 2011
7 Reasons That the new Starbucks Logo is Wrong

Starbucks are changing their logo. They’re removing the roundel containing the words “Starbucks” and “Coffee” from the new one and are, instead, focussing on the mermaid part. This is in the hope that the mermaid, like the golden arches of McDonalds or the shell of Shell will come to be the easily identifiable international signifier of Starbucks, but the new focus on the mermaid is confusing and frustrating. Here are seven reasons why.

The new Starbucks logo.

1. It’s Baffling. A mermaid is a fish-woman from the sea. Coffee is a beverage made by combining beans from the land and water from the sky, occasionally using bovine mammary excretions from the fields, and sugar from the Oompa-Loompas. The intrinsic nature of the coffee experience has nothing whatsoever to do with the sea, so the mermaid is unrepresentative. If I saw a mermaid my first thought wouldn’t be coffee. In fact, the thought coffee wouldn’t come in my top million thoughts on seeing a mermaid. It wouldn’t even come above fish fingers, bubble bath or owls.

2. It’s Misdirected. So who is the target market for mermaids? I have identified two. The first is my writing partner Jon, whose bizarre fixation with The Little Mermaid had been explored more than enough on this website already, and the second market is sailors. Drunken, sex-starved sailors. After all, it was they that would tell tales of strange and beautiful fish-women to while away their long sea voyages. There are two things I know about Starbucks. The first is that you won’t find Jon in them, and the second is that if you want to see a mob of inebriated and libidinous seamen, you’re unlikely to find them in an establishment whose principal attraction is free wi-fi, blueberry muffins and skinny mocha-choca-lattes.

3. Nudity. Mermaids don’t wear clothes, but (I’m presuming this, I live in far too cold a place to want to test this assumption) that if I attempted to drink coffee at Starbucks without any clothes on there would be two reactions. Firstly, awe. Secondly, I would be asked to leave. And the successive changes to the logo have demonstrated that Starbucks are also inconvenienced by this too, as the two most recent logos don’t have nipples. This is because there are parts of the world where an image of a nude fish-woman with nipples would cause offence, whereas removing the nipples of nude-fish women is a perfectly acceptable activity and probably fun for all the family.

4. Scales. A mermaid is a creature with delicate scales, but muffin-gobbling Starbucks customers (who are predominantly American) do not require delicate scales. They require substantial ones that go up to a big number.

5. Music. Starbucks has also branched into music publishing in recent years and the new logo is supposed to reflect that. But they’ve published Paul McCartney and Alanis Morrissette, and these artists (okay, one of them used to have a yellow submarine) have absolutely cock-all to do with mermaids. The sort of music you should be able to expect from an establishment with a mermaid as a logo is sea-shanties, a huge number of which are about mermaids. But I’ve never heard sea-shanties in Starbucks. All I ever hear is Carly Simon, who doesn’t even have an accordion.

6. Mermaids Can’t Drink Coffee. Mermaids live under the sea. The sea is made of liquid. Coffee is also made of liquid. This means that the one group of people that can’t enjoy Starbucks main product are mermaids. Because if you take even the largest cup size (venti) under the sea, it becomes a drop in the ocean. This would be a disappointing experience for any mermaid. And even if they could drink the coffee, they don’t seem to have anywhere to wee from. They would become bloated and crotchety.

7. Spoilsports. By focussing on the mythical fish-woman and removing the words “Starbucks Coffee” from their new logo, Starbucks have ruined all the fun that you can have with a green marker pen. And I suspect that this may have been the motive for change all along.

January 7, 2011
7 Reasons Being Back At Work Is Great

The maverick tendencies amongst the 7 Reasons team have meant that we are returning to work two days later than the majority. Well, why not? We work weekends too. It dawned on us though that instead of being a bad thing, going back to work is actually awesome. Really, really awesome.

1. Internet. A glorious invention full of all kinds of the weird and wonderful. Mainly on YouTube. And it’s these weird and wonderful things that you just don’t have time to read, watch, play and look at during the holiday. When you are at work though, time is aplenty. And as the saying goes, ‘when at work, everyone is interested in a video of a dancing dustman’.

2. Daydreaming. When you are on holiday, you are always doing something. Even if you are doing nothing you are still doing something. As such it’s not a conducive environment in which to daydream. Work though? Well that is an entirely different situation. When you are doing nothing at work you really are doing nothing. And this is when you start drifting off. What will happen in Eastenders tonight? Could I jump from the top of that building on to the top of that one? I wonder what they are playing on Aada FM at the moment?

3. Ideas. When you are daydreaming you may invent something. Or you might realise something. Or you might decide you need to visit somewhere. Or contact someone. You never have these thoughts when you are on holiday. You never have great ideas when you are on holiday. That would be too convenient. No, you’ll only invent a squirrel powered washing machine when you are stuck at work, unable to do anything about it. Which, when you think about it, is something of a relief. Not just to the squirrel population, but also your partner who quite likes the kitchen in it’s current state.

4. Mindset. Have you noticed we are in our most optimistic and happy moods when at work? Think about it. When you are at work you spend your days looking forward to your next holiday. Yet, when you are on holiday, you spend the days dreading going back to work. Which just proves holidays are twisted individuals.

5. Pressure. Being on holiday is hard. The pressure to actually enjoy your time off is so great that many people crack and spend all their time in bed watching ITV. Deciding what to do with your day takes hours and by the time you have decided it’s too late in the day. So you agree to spend the day relaxing in bed and get up early the next day to do whatever it is you are now too late to do. But when you wake up the next day it is raining. So the whole process starts again. Compiling that report in two hours seems a doddle compared to this.

6. Exaggeration. Your holiday is always so much better when you are back at work than it was when you were actually in the middle of it. When talking to colleagues, that week in a camper-van in a lay-by outside Swansea becomes a walking holiday in the Welsh valleys. Four rainy days in Paris becomes a week in the Parisian sun sampling great wine, food and berets. Two weeks with food poisoning in Egypt becomes a life-changing trip in amongst the pyramids and the camels. Which makes you wonder why people go on holiday in the first place? You may as well stay at work and read the Thomas Cook website.

7. Guilt. If you spend your holiday watching repeats of Friends you feel terribly guilty. Do it at work though and you feel incredibly proud. That’s why work rules.

January 6, 2011
It’s Christmas!

Hello! Merry Christmas from the 7 Reasons team. We’ve been having a whale of a time here today, we slept fitfully and expectantly and this morning we gathered around the 7 Reasons tree to unwrap our presents:

Jon was thrilled with his set of Kim Jong Il models.

Marc was somewhat less thrilled with his Lakeland lemon preserver.

Now that the presents are unwrapped and we’ve tidied the floor up and fed the penguin, it’s time for us to take off for a while, to resume our real lives for a week or two; so that we can spend time with our friends and families, and experience events without thinking, “I can probably get a 7 Reasons post out of that“. Because our first thought on falling into a hole is invariably, “7 Reasons Not to Fall Into a Hole!”, rather than the more conventional, “Fuck! My arm hurts, I hope no one saw me. Have I ripped my trousers?“

We won’t be posting anything new until the 6th of January but, rest assured, we’ll probably be creating things for next year while we’re away. We’ll also – inspired by Christmas television, in which the repeats are often more popular than new programming – be tweeting the links to some of our favourite posts during the holidays. Feel free to read or re-read them and to wander around the site unsupervised while we’re away, we’re very trusting.

We’d like to wish all the readers, guest writers and friends of 7 Reasons a very merry Christmas and a happy and prosperous New Year*, and we’d like to thank everyone for their continued help and support. We couldn’t keep this up without you,

Marc and Jon.

*And a happy Sausage Day!

December 25, 2010
7 Reasons That 24th December Should Be Known As The Day of the Sausage

Hi there, it’s the day before Christmas and at other humour websites, you could probably expect to find some sort of Christmas Eve themed piece today, cynically concocted to gain the maximum amount of traffic by exploiting the festive mood. But not here. Because at 7 Reasons(.org) we have had a great and noble idea. We’ve come to realise that Christmas Eve is just a little too Christmassy. Similarly, it’s also occurred to us that it’s just not sausagey enough. When was the last time that your thoughts turned to sausages on Christmas Eve? But we think that’s wrong, and we want to change it. So we see this piece as a clarion call, a rallying cry, because we firmly believe that Christmas Eve should be known as The Day of the Sausage, and here are seven reasons why.

Churchill was never without a sausage.

1. Rennie. You might think that The Day of the Sausage falling on Christmas Eve is a tremendous coincidence. It isn’t. In fact it has been meticulously planned. At Christmas, you can’t move for two things. People and indigestion tablets. The world is full of them. It is full of indigestion tablets because the day that follows The Day of the Sausage is Christmas Day. A day when, regardless of your religious views, you eat a lot. It’s like a rule. When better therefore to hold The Day of the Sausage? You can spend all of 24th December eating sausages knowing that you will have both enough days and enough tablets to recover.

2. Vegetarians. Quite how vegetarians survive without meat is probably the one thing I wouldn’t want to be asked when faced with the One Million Pound question by Chris Tarrant. But that’s okay, because I am never going to be asked. I can live content in the knowledge that there are meat substitute products our there for the herbivores among us and no more prominent are they than during the Christmas period. In amongst the people and the indigestion tablets are vegetarian sausages and vegetarian sausages on cocktail sticks and vegetarian sausages wrapped in something that should really be bacon. They have already been catered for! If The Day of the Sausage fell on June 30th, shops would have to fill their shelves with vegetarian sausages twice a year, but with it falling on 24th December they only need to do it once. Which means they can sell proper food in June to go on my barbecue. Never let it be said that we don’t consider the economic elements when we write.

3. Maths. Christmas Eve falls on the 24^th of December, and you can make that number out of sausages. You’re probably looking at the numbers 2 and 4 right now thinking, oh no you can’t. But you’re wrong. Because sausages come in many forms, but the two most common types of sausage are the straight sausage and the circular sausage (which is essentially a longer version of the straight sausage that can go round corners). And you can make the number 24 from them. Here it is. In binary.

Coincidentally, this is just the right amount of sausages for two average sausage consumers to share.

4. Clarification. If you Google the words ‘Sausage Day’ you will be both disappointed and confused. (Unless you’re a pervert). There is no such thing as an International Sausage Day. Nor a National Sausage Day. Nor just a Sausage Day. There are however various Sausage Weeks. Yes, that’s right. Various Sausage Weeks. More than one. That’s not right! In 2010, British Sausage Week ran from 1st-7th November. However, the Egerton Arms in Knutsford, Cheshire, ran their Sausage Week from 3rd-12th November! Which raises another issue. Do they have 10-day weeks in Knutsford? But that is an issue for another day. Back to the sausages. And to the Cumberland Sausage Day. That falls on 5th July. Yes, it’s a Sausage Day, but a Sausage Day for just one kind of sausage. That is sausagist in anyone’s language. Except French. Where is would be saucissonist. The Day of the Sausage would eliminate such exclusivity and allow the whole world to know exactly when to celebrate their sausage. And that has to be a good thing.

5. Harmony. The Day of the Sausage and Christmas Eve won’t conflict with each other. In fact, to borrow a phrase from George W. Bush, they should be able to co-exist peacefully. You can even make the traditional Christmas Eve nativity scene using them, as this heartwarming depiction of the birth of the baby Jesusage shows.

We assume that Americans did this.

6. Shopping. In something of an exclusive to our 7 Reasons readers, we can reveal that The Day of the Sausage has a sub-agenda. Let us ask you a question. What will you be doing on The Day of the Sausage? The correct answer is eating sausages, celebrating sausages and having your photo taken while hovering your sausage over your top lip so it looks like a moustache. What won’t you be doing? Last-minute Christmas shopping. That’s right, everyone will have forgotten about Christmas. The shops will be empty. So while everyone is celebrating bangers, we will be in Halfords deciding whether our respective partners would prefer the de-icer or some reflectors for their bikes. And because we are kind, both of our readers can join us too.

7. Santa. On Christmas Eve Santa comes to visit you, and how do you reward him while he’s emptying his sack into your stockings? You give him a glass of whisky (he likes a 12 year old Highland Park by the way, don’t ask how we know this) and a mince pie. But a mince pie is essentially a dessert. A teeny-tiny dessert. But look at Santa. He’s a big, fat, ruddy faced man engaged in a hard job of work on his busiest day of the year. And you want to give him a pastry confection! That’s hardly adequate sustenance. What Santa needs is something more nutritious and something more filling to keep him going. He needs sausages. And double the quantity of whisky while you’re at it.*

*The 7 Reasons team would like to wish you a very merry Sausage Day, and a happy Christmas.

December 24, 2010
7 Reasons That I Won’t Be Sending My Christmas Cards Until Christmas Eve

It’s almost Christmas and one of the aspects of the festival that I hate the most is writing Christmas cards. But I’ve come up with a cunning plan for dealing with them. This year, I won’t be sending any Christmas cards out until Christmas Eve. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Space. When you’re buying your stamps or posting your cards, the post office on Christmas Eve is a far more convivial atmosphere than the post office on December 18^th. When I’m posting my cards tomorrow, I’m going to be alone, with just the post office staff wearing their Santa hats and antlers, and eating their mince pies, (which they’ll probably share with me). And, instead of being stuck in a long mazy queue of grey people coughing, I’m going to have space to stretch my arms out and spin around. And that’s what I’m going to do; just because I can. And because it’s less cruel than swinging a cat.

2. Time. Leaving the cards until the last minute will have other benefits too. Had I written my cards early I’d have spent lots of time writing them out neatly, but I didn’t do that this year, and now that Christmas Eve is almost upon us, I’m doing the Christmas cards as a rush job. So that’s a lot less time that I’ve spent writing cards: Time that I was able to use more productively. I didn’t obviously, I spent it mulling things and playing Angry Birds. I also photoshopped a hat onto the statue of liberty. But it’s still time saved.

3. Inclusivity. It’s more inclusive if I send my cards on Christmas Eve. After all, I’m notoriously forgetful, but I know who I’ve received a card from because there’s a bushel of them in the living room. Or a gross. Or a flock (I have no idea how quantities of cards are measured), so it’s easy enough for me to work out who’s sent them and reply. So if you’ve sent me a card, you’ll get one in return: And if you haven’t, then you won’t. Obviously if anyone else is using the same system as me then that’s unfortunate, but if they are, that would benefit the…

4. Environment. That the Christmas cards I’ve sent won’t be received until after Christmas is good for the planet. Because no one sends out a Christmas card after Christmas, so people won’t send out any cards in reply to mine. So there’ll be less wasted paper, and I’ll have less recycling to do in January. Which is great, as the first recycling day of the New Year is usually like some sort of glass-themed labour of Hercules, but without Hercules and starring me instead.

5. Blame. And no one even need know that their cards weren’t sent until Christmas Eve (unless they’re reading this. Damn) because what’s the default opinion on the Royal Mail in this country? It’s that they’re hapless and inefficient. That’s not strictly true. Most of the time, they’re dedicated people doing a fine, and quite thankless, job, but they’ll automatically get the blame for the tardy arrival of my cards anyway. But that’s their problem and I don’t mind using it to my advantage. After all, I’ve never been stupid enough to change my name to Consignia and they have.

6. How To Win Friends And Influence People. When no card arrives before Christmas, friends, family and acquaintances will probably think “The bastard! He hasn’t sent us a folded over piece of paper with a picture of a fat, bearded man on the front and some illegible scrawl within! How could he do this to me?” But then, when the card turns up a few days after Christmas (“bloody post office”) they’ll feel loved and wanted again. And they’ll feel bad for thinking ill of me, which they’ll probably compensate for by being even more well-disposed toward me than usual. So if I keep doing this every Christmas, people will eventually feel so much affection for me that they will probably erect statues of me when I’m in my old age. I could get canonized! I could become the next Princess Diana!*

7. Finances. I won’t need to buy cards until the last minute, by which time I’ll know exactly how many I need. So none will be wasted. So I’ll be saving money. That’s money that I can spend on other Christmas things like candles that get brought out once a year that nobody ever lights, or those owl baubles that my wife saw (because nothing says Christmas more than a rodent-terrorising bird of prey hanging from a tree). By leaving the cards until the last moment, I’m going to be better off financially, and I’m going to benefit in many, many other ways too. I’m a genius! A mean genius. I’m a meanius!

*But my mother-in-law won’t be on the stamps.

December 23, 2010
7 Reasons To Join A Cult

The story of how 7 Reasons formed is not your traditional one. We won’t go into great detail other than to say we met because we were both in a cult. But don’t worry, this cult didn’t involve righteous killing or licking frozen chickens. Anything but. This cult was a friendly one. A cult where American architects sent dragons to newsreaders and people across the land turned the ferret gold. I am sure you are now seeing the light, but if you are still slightly unsure here are seven more reasons to join that cult.

Richard Bacon Was A Cultish Leader

1. New People. A cult is different from exclusive clubs such as The Masons because it is open to all. As a result you will meet a rich and diverse group of individuals from all walks of life. Plumbers, writers, lawyers, singers, doctors, engineers, buskers, perverts. You’ll meet the lot. And because you leave all your prejudices at the door when you enter the cult, you’ll form a bond with each and everyone of them. The most hardened Tory will find joy in conversing with the most radical Socialist. Millwall supporters will appear fluffy and cute. Formerly disgraced Blue Peter presenters will be forgiven. And that sort of thing only ever happens in a cult.

2. Opportunity. Unlike your place of work, there is no hierarchy in a cult. Or, if there is, you can very easily destroy it. You can be anyone you want to be in a cult. You can be a wallflower if you wish, or you can be a leader of men. And women. No one minds. If you are the type of man who has access to both foil and a cat (Marc) you may wish to see if one will walk over the other. But what if you don’t? What if you don’t have foil? Or a cat? What if you are a person in one of those moods and fancies taking the mick out of your leader (Jon)? Well you can do that too. And whats-more, whichever route you choose, whatever you decide to do, you will be celebrated. You will be held in high esteem. You may well start a website.

3. Reward. When you have gone out of your way to entertain those amongst your cult, it is nice to be rewarded. And nothing rewards quite like a cult. Apart from the adulation and admiration from those around you, you may also receive a badge. Or a small motorbike. But it’s usually a badge. And when I say a badge, I don’t just mean a badge, well, obviously I do, because it is a badge, but it’s also more than that. It’s more than a badge. It’s what the badge stands for. It doesn’t just say, ‘Hey, I’m in a cult’, it says, ‘Hey, I’m part of a cult’. And that’s, you know, pretty damn special.

4. Help. Whether you are at school trying to write your Personal Statement or in lying in bed ill, the cult is there to help you. Admittedly, you might not get it right all the time. All your advice may just confuse the lad and mean he misses out on that place at Cambridge University, but no one can accuse you of not trying. For all your failures, you will have hundreds of successes. Like I said earlier, the cult we were in helped turn the ferret gold. But while that was great, it is more the fact that people were there to help turn the ferret gold than the actual turning. And it was the ferret himself who first shared these sentiments. He was right.

5. Meaning. It is very easy to wander along in life, working nine to five and waiting for the weekend. There is nothing wrong with that, but joining a cult will give your life purpose. It’ll mean something to you and, more importantly, you’ll mean something to the cult. It’ll give you direction and hope and love. And let’s face it, there is very little direction, hope and love out there at the moment. Your work isn’t going to give it to you, so why not give the cult a chance?

6. Outside. When you join a cult, you join in trepidation. This is only natural. A cult, after all, has a reputation for being dark and evil and thus it is perfectly understandable if you are initially nervous. No one enters thinking they may leave with a new life. But many do. Many leave with new friends. Some leave with new girlfriends or boyfriends or both. Others leave with ideas. The rest just go to sleep. No one thought this would happen when they joined. No one expected their life to change. But it can. It does. Sure, not all friendships and relationships last, that’s life, but for a moment in time they were very real. And it was the cult that gave you that happiness. Without it, it would never have happened. Obviously, some relationships do last. Like 7 Reasons. A monster that will never be slayed.

7. Death. Eventually, sometimes for reasons outside of your control, your cult will die. You will attend the funeral (or listen to it on the radio) and be filled with deep sadness. But when you come to reflect, you realise the cult hasn’t really died. You just can’t listen to it on BBC Radio 5 Live anymore. It still lives though. In your heart. And on YouTube. You still have the memories of your leader being portrayed as Hitler. You can still listen to the music of the cult’s house band and indeed of the one you may well call T He Digger. You still have the vision of chair legs being broken by that woman who stood on a plinth for a couple of weeks. You still remember that moment when you were denied from asking Chris Evans whether his gingerness had been a help or hindrance. And these thoughts will stay with you forever. No one can take them away from you. And you’ll always be thankful that you could never get to sleep before 00:30.

So, if there is one thing you should spread this Christmas season, it is the joy of the cult.

Thankyou. Jonathan Lee, in the lounge, with his badge.

December 22, 2010
7 Reasons That The Pole Vault is Weird

It’s almost Christmas, dear readers, and what better and more seasonal topic is there to ruminate over than the pole vault? Well, possibly just about any other topic but, as I was lying in bed, unwell, with a bit of a fever, my thoughts naturally turned to the pole vault (well, whose wouldn’t?) and it struck me that the pole vault is really, really weird. Here’s why.

…and so does your sport.

1. Titular Obscurity. We all know what the pole vault is, because we’re introduced to it at a young age. But what if we didn’t know? Other athletics events are titularly obvious; the high jump; the long jump, we know what to expect from those just by their names. But what would we expect to see if told that we were about to witness the pole vault? It sounds like someone jumping over a pole, or a cellar for keeping Polish people in. Or leaping over a Polish person. Or Polish people vaulting. Or a storage area for poles. What the name doesn’t convey is anything at all about what you can expect to see, which is a Russian man with a stick jumping over a bar (which doesn’t resemble the sort of bar that you’d want to frequent at all, it’s just another stick the other way up, balanced between two other sticks). It’s literally all sticks. I would rather watch the cellar full of Polish people.

2. It’s Cheating. The closest relation to the pole vault must surely be the high jump; an event in which athletes compete to see who can jump the highest – something that we can all identify with and can do ourselves at home. But the pole vault takes the noble pursuit of seeing who can leap the highest, and adds a long pole into the mix so that competitors can go three times as high as they would naturally be able to. But why? Of course you can go higher if you have a ruddy great stick to help you. I can swim much faster than normal if I’m wearing flippers and Speedos with jet propulsion, but that doesn’t make me a good swimmer. Fortunately, I doubt that they’re going to make the 100 metres backstroke with flippers and jet-thrusting-pants an Olympic event alongside the regular swimming any time soon, which is a good thing, because I’d look bloody stupid in that getup and I never win anything anyway. And it would be weird, and we already have the pole vault for that.

3. They’re Missing The Point. Pole vaulters vault to see who can vault the highest, but that’s not even the point of vaulting. Because vaulting originated as a way for the Dutch to cross dykes (everyone glad that I’m not AA Gill at this moment? Good, me too). So the true measure of the vaulter’s prowess should be distance. In short, they’re doing it wrong. Let’s make them vault over a river; that would be true to the origins of the sport and a damned sight more entertaining. They’re missing the point of their own sport.

4. Exclusion. It keeps better events out of the Olympics. Because I don’t need to know who can jump very high with the help of a big stick. I want to see people test the limits of human performance without artificial aid. Do you know what I want to know? I want to know how fast people can spin, because we just don’t know that. I propose the one minute spin, an event in which each competitor stands within a circle a metre in diameter and has a minute in which to spin as many times as possible (clockwise or anti-clockwise, it’s freestyle), and the winner is the person who attains the highest rate of RPM. That’s what I want to see, and then I want to watch them trying to walk back to their chairs and attempting to put their tracksuit bottoms back on. Because that sort of spectacle would make the Olympics ten times better.

5. The Equipment Is Unwieldy. And what right-minded person would take up the bloody sport in the first place? If I were tall, athletic and good at going over bars (rather than sitting behind them. Still, two out of three isn’t bad) I’d choose the high jump. Because it’s exactly the same as the pole vault, but you don’t have to lug a pole around with you as a part of your kit. Because taking up the pole vault is like taking up the double bass or the tuba. It’s absolutely ridiculous. What if you were reliant on public transport? How would you fancy trying to get on a rush-hour tube train with a seventeen foot long pole? It’s difficult enough with a modestly proportioned holdall or a large satchel. Okay, so you’d be able to hold the doors open for as long as it took to get on but, I speak with absolute confidence here, it would be a bit burdensome. In fact, it would be a faff. In much the same way that holding up the world was a faff for Atlas.

6. Double Entendre. There is literally nothing that you can say about pole vaulting that isn’t a double entendre. After all, it’s a sport which involves physically exerting yourself until you’re panting and thrusting a long, rigid shaft into a box before you briefly soar heavenward and eventually end up lying sweaty and exhausted on a mattress with a horizontal pole. And if there isn’t scope for euphemism, metaphor, allusion and plain seaside postcard bawdiness there then…um…well there just clearly is. And Wikipedia isn’t even trying for innuendo when it says, “…pole stiffness and length are important factors to a vaulter’s performance.” It is impossible to discuss the pole vault without innuendo.

7. Confusion. Because while the name pole vault, as we have established, is misleading, once you’ve accepted the illogic of it, you’re in for further frustration and disappointment. When I was four years old and I started school, you can have absolutely no idea how excited I was when I was told that in the school gym there was a vaulting horse. A vaulting horse, I thought with wide-eyed astonishment. That’s the most exciting thing I’ve ever heard in my life. They’ve got a horse that can vault! A raging stallion that can shoot itself into the sky with the aid of a pole! A pony that can rocket over a lofty bar! A mare that can soar through the air and land on a mattress! They’ve got a wondrous, magical creature! The most awesome beast I ever will see! They’ve got an athletic super-horse! They’ve got…that wooden thing in the corner that looks like a weird shed for midgets? What the hell is that? Is life always going to be like this?

December 21, 2010
7 Reasons To Embrace Christmas Traffic Jams

Strictly speaking, there is no such thing as a Christmas traffic jam, in the same way as there is no such thing as a Christmas turkey, but you know what I mean. Which is just as well, because if I had used ‘7 Reasons To Embrace The Traffic Jams You Experience While Travelling Somewhere For Christmas’ both of you may have decided not to read. I’m glad you have though, because I have importance to impart on you. If you are travelling this Christmas, this is the most helpful thing you will read this half-hour.

1. In-Laws. If you are very lucky, your in-laws, or – if you are sans wedding-ring – your partner’s family, will be normal. This is fairly uncommon however, so we shall assume that the in-laws are a weird bunch. The mother-in-law smokes a pipe and keeps singing sea shanties and the father-in-law insists on wearing novelty ties and very little else. That type of weird. The type of weird that means you want to spend as little time in their company as possible over Christmas. The type of weird that makes traffic jams seem like a little piece of heaven.*

2. Christmas Playlist. Unless you really are a Scrooge (or deaf), Christmas songs evoke the festive spirit. And no one can tell me that after listening to Wham! and Chris Rea over and over and over and over and over again you’re not going to be in the mood for mulled wine. And beer. And brandy. And anything else that might numb the pain.

3. Excuses. Despite having 364 days to buy your loved one a present, you seem to have forgotten to buy one. This means you need a damn good excuse. And to think of a damn good excuse you need time. And time comes with traffic jams. Lots of them. By the time you get to your destination, your loved one will be too tired and relieved to care about presents. Which gives you time to whip down to B&Q.

4. Traditional Games. What with the advent of Game Boys and Game Gears and PSPs, the traditional in car entertainment was shelved. Mammoth games of ‘i-Spy’ and ‘I Went On My Holidays…’ were swapped for games featuring a hedgehog called Sonic and a footballer who looked like Shrek. Christmas traffic jams are the perfect opportunity to relive those golden days. A chance to remember those simpler times. Times where the use of the brain was more important than the use of the thumbs. Admittedly, i-Spy will only last until someone has guessed BOOORRRIIINNNGGG!!! but, despite someone not quite understanding the joys of the game, it will be fun while it lasts. Honest.

5. Scenery. Ever wanted to see Slough look pretty? Get stuck there in the snow. It’s your only hope.

6. Accents. Have you ever wondered what people sound like in the area you are driving through? No, probably not. That’s because you are driving through them. But what if you are stuck in them? No, probably not. But you should. Because it will open your eyes to the world around you. And you don’t need to do it by winding down the window and freezing to death. Just tune in to the local radio station. If you are lucky they’ll be interviewing someone who thought they had grown a six-foot cucumber only to discover it was in fact a marrow. And that never happens where you live.

7. Challenge. Despite what we are encouraging here, we know no one likes sitting in a traffic jam and, given the opportunity, they will find a way of getting out of it. Which is where the road map comes in handy. I can’t think of anything more rewarding than plotting a way out of a jam and then executing it perfectly. Especially if you set yourself a time limit and pretend you are being chased by members of the KGB. Such circumstances can turn pain and despair into exhilaration and triumph. And is a case in itself for joining a jam if you see one. We’ll see you in there.

*I would just like to point out that I am very lucky. Despite their annoying habit of making me look a very average tennis player, my girlfriend’s parents are a delight.**

**No, I am not just saying this. How cynical of you.

December 20, 2010