Tag: 7 reasons

7 Reasons That I Hate The Mayor Of Vilnius

Unless you have been on the moon for the past few days (and perhaps even if you have) you will have seen this video of the mayor of Vilnius keeping the cycle lanes clear in his city by crushing illegally parked vehicles with a tank. This video has been everywhere. And it’s annoyed me. A lot. Here are 7 Reasons that I hate the mayor of Vilnius.

1. The Mayor Of Vilnius Is A Liar. The message in the video is that if you park in the cycle lane, the mayor of Vilnius will crush your car with a tank. But he doesn’t have a tank. Look at it. Look at it! It’s got wheels and there’s a distinctive lack of a huge gun at the front to shoot things with, tracks and other tank-y accoutrements that are the universally acknowledged signifiers that the vehicle is a tank. That means that it’s not a tank. What it is, is an armoured personnel carrier. What it is not, is a tank. The mayor of Vilnius is fibbing.

2. The Mayor Of Vilnius Is In The Least Convincing Video Ever. I have seen theatre sets that look less staged than this video. I have seen ham actors less hammy than the acting in this video. In fact, I’ve seen entire pig farms less hammy than the acting this video. The man that gets “his” car crushed is the single worst actor that I have ever seen, and I’ve seen Piers Brosnan. The video wouldn’t be less believable if it was narrated by Jeffrey Archer. No it would. But still, it’s not a convincing video.

3. The Mayor Of Vilnius Hates The Poor. During the video, there are three examples of illegal parking. In the first two, a Rolls-Royce and a Ferrari are illegally parked and are not run over by the mayor of Vilnius in an armoured personnel carrier. A third illegally parked car (a knackered old Mercedes worth almost nothing) is run over by the mayor of Vilnius in an armoured personnel carrier. What sort of message does this send? Poor people of Vilnius: The mayor of Vilnius is after your cars. Run (drive?) for your lives, he’s got a grudge against the impoverished and an armoured personnel carrier and he’s not afraid to use it! The message it sends out to the wealthy is somewhat different though. Rich people of Vilnius: Feel free to park wherever you like. Sit back, relax, and eat a diamond or two while you enjoy the spectacle of a man menacing the poor with a “tank”. This is not a nice message to send out.

4. The Mayor Of Vilnius Is The Wrong Man For The Job. People like to have sensible, solid, reliable citizens as their mayors. Qualities that they don’t like in a mayor are publicity-hunger and buffoonery. The evidence for that is clear: The population of the world is 7 billion people and the population of London is 7.7 million people. This means that by far the vast majority of the planet’s population choose to live in the world, which is outside London. If they wanted a buffoon for a mayor, they’d live in London where, incidentally, everything within in the cycle lane is mown down by taxis. The people have spoken and we don’t want buffoons.

5. The Mayor Of Vilnius Is Missing The Point. Why does it even matter if people are parking in the cycle lanes there? Judging by the film, it would appear that Vilnius is the world’s emptiest city. The mayor of Vilnius seems to be some sort of latter day Omega Man cruising the deserted streets in his armoured personnel carrier desperately searching for signs of life. The only person using the cycle lanes in Vilnius is the mayor of Vilnius. Why not use the empty road? No one will ever know.

6. The Mayor Of Vilnius Isn’t Even A Proper Mayor. He’s obviously the mayor by default because he’s the only citizen of Vilnius. Look what happens after he crushes the Mercedes: He has to stop and clean up the glass. He’s the parking enforcement officer, the military, the mayor and the street cleaner all rolled into one. If the mayor of Vilnius became embroiled in a corruption scandal – a quite common occurrence in local government – he’d end up having to arrest himself, but that would be okay, because he’d be able to pay himself a bribe and get the whole thing swept under the carpet. Then he’d be free to win the next mayoral election by a margin of one. Again. Doesn’t the man have any ambition? Why doesn’t he enact a constitutional monarchy and appoint himself King of Vilnius? Emperor? God of Vilnius! If you’re self-appointed, think big!

7. It All Boils Down To Envy. It looks like fun. I want a go.

August 5, 2011
7 Reasons I’m Not Going To Win A Nobel Prize Anytime Soon

On Tuesday evening this flyer popped through the letter box. It is fair to say I nearly fell off my half of the 7 Reasons sofa. ‘Entrepreneurs Needed’. Entrepreneurs! That’s me. ‘Groundbreaking Nobel Prize Winning Product’. Groundbreaking! Nobel Prize Winning! Product! They are all me too. Well, not the Nobel Prize bit. Not yet. But it could be me. ‘Call NOW’ Okay! Only I didn’t. I went back to making my spaghetti omelette. But yesterday… yesterday I gave them a call. And this is how it went.

*Now, before you press play I need to tell you something. In this phone call I’m a bit sarcastic. I was expecting this groundbreaking Nobel Prize winning product to be something like a new kind of penis pump or a tulip that sings forty-six national anthems. With a Jamaican dialect. (And, be honest, who wouldn’t like a penis pump with a Jamaican dialect?) Thing thing is though, this product is neither of those. In fact, it’s a very serious product relating to health issues and is inspired by the death of someone’s father. Something I only discovered a couple of minutes into the call. So, while I wouldn’t say what you are about to hear is in any way offensive, you may find my comments and subsequent reasons insensitive. If you think that could be you, my advice would be to just ignore today’s piece and come back tomorrow.*

[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/20360733″]

Yes, I cut him off. I was bored. But more than that, I was frustrated. Five minutes I’d been on the phone and I still didn’t know what the product was or what I was needed for. And there was something else. A number of things this man said alarmed me. Let’s take it from the top.

1. As Heard From 0:46 – “If you’ve ever wanted to be involved in the early stages of a proven success story that is about to experience dramatic growth throughout the UK (and Europe) please continue to listen.” It’s not the proven success that bothers me here. Or, indeed, the promise of dramatic growth*. It’s the use of Europe. (The continent, not the band. Though the use of ‘Final Countdown’ as a backing track would have been apt). Europe, in this case, is very much an after thought. As if he doesn’t really believe it. And it’s silly. I wouldn’t go around saying I’ve got this great product that is going to be popular in Maidstone and the World would I? Maidstone (at least some parts of it) is already in the World. As the entrepreneur this man is seeking, I am left with severe doubts. I’m suspicious that he was going to try and charm me with the allure of freshly baked croissants. Well sorry pal, but you’ve picked the wrong man.

2. As Heard From 1:30 – “If you are keen to develop a significant residual income…” Hello! He’s played the money card straight away! I’ve watched Dragon’s Den too many times to know that this is too good to be true. Start off with the money card and three things happen. Firstly, the promise of profits are vastly exaggerated. Secondly, the product is abysmal. And thirdly, you start dreaming about Deborah Meaden with a giant gherkin on her head. Oh, my goodness. It’s happening already***.

3. As Heard From 1:47 – “It is estimated that someone has a heart attack every two minutes.” Well what the bloody hell are we doing on the phone then?! Let’s find this person and help them. They must be in all kinds of trouble. I’m sorry, but anyone who wants to chat about Nobel Prize winning products instead of helping those who are suffering is not the business partner for me. Shame.

4. As Heard From 1:50 – “More than 1.4 million people have a gina [pronounced gyna].” Well this is factually incorrect for a start. Without wishing to beat around the bush, I would suggest at least half the population have a gina. Even I used to have one. And understandably so. Gina G was tremendous. Anyway, the point is, I can’t work with someone who doesn’t know their facts.

5. As Heard From 2:21 – “Now, for most of us we need to look no further than in The Mirror…” And you’ve lost me. Right here. Any product that can in any way be traced back to Piers Morgan is a no-go area for me.

6. As Heard From 4:07 – “This discovery [the role of the nitric oxide molecule] was so significant that one of these Nobel Laureates in medicine subsequently wrote a book.” What?! This scientist discovered nitric oxide could prevent heart disease so he wrote a book! What? Why? Why didn’t he get on and get this stuff on the shelf in Boots and Superdrug? The Piers Morgan association lost me, this has just baffled me. Save lives or write a book? Tough decision that.**

7. As Heard From 4:31 – “The President of the American Heart Association, Dr. Fell On Him Pushed Her…” Oh, come on! Dr. Fell On Him Pushed Her?! What a total stitch up this was. And I bet the call wasn’t free either. Gits.

*You can see why I thought it might be a penis pump now.

**This takes nothing away from the fact that you won a Nobel Prize. Well done that man. (Though you are a bit dopey.)

***

August 4, 2011
7 Reasons We Were Unlucky To Miss Out On A Scout Birthday Badge
Yesterday the Scouts celebrated their 104th birthday. Quite an accomplishment from an association that has a maximum age limit of 25. As part of the celebrations they handed out big birthday badges to a number of celebrities. Celebrities who have – apparently – inspired youngsters. For example, James May received the ‘navigation’ badge for driving all over the country using his sat-nav. And Stephen Fry earned himself the ‘IT’ badge for being on Twitter. Worthy winners I think we can all agree. In total, fourteen badges were handed to fifteen celebrities (Sue Perkins and Giles Coren had to share the ‘smallholder’ badge). However, there was an alarming omission. There was no mention of 7 Reasons. Which is a shocking oversight when you consider the number of people we have inspired in true Scout fashion. And I say true Scout fashion because of course there are seven Scout Laws:
1. A Scout is to be trusted.
2. A Scout is loyal.
3. A Scout is friendly and considerate.
4. A Scout belongs to the worldwide family of Scouts.
5. A Scout has courage in all difficulties.
6. A Scout makes good use of time and is careful of possessions and property.
7. A Scout has self-respect and respect for others.
This then, is why we should have been rewarded:

1. Trust. Ask yourselves a question. Ideally this one. Can you trust 7 Reasons? Of course you can. When we highlighted the dangers of a dating a polar bear or riding a crocodile, were we telling the truth? Yes. When we told you not to hold a conversation in the men’s toilets or not to dream about Andy Murray’s mother, was this sound advice? Yes. It strikes us that when it comes to honesty, we lead the way every single day.

2. Loyalty. We are fiercely proud of our roots. Our British roots. Which is why we uphold all that is good about this country. It is why we dislike France and urge you to invade at your soonest convenience. It’s why… actually, that’s pretty much it really. But it’s enough. We don’t like the French. And this isn’t because we’re xenophobic (at least not both of us), it’s because we are loyal to Nelson and Wellington and everyone else who had the joy of fighting the frogs. Invade the garlic-eating, beret-wearing, onions-around-their-neck-cycling, Francs today!

3. Friendliness And Consideration. Like I say, we love everyone.

4. Family. Our audience is our family. But we don’t need to tell you that. The amount of you we let sit on the 7 Reasons sofa is testament to how much we care about you. How much we cherish you. How much we love you and need you and want you. It’s why everything we do is for you. We cater for every aspect of your life. Let’s take one example. Cooking. Ignoring previous accusations that one of us once gave our housemate food poisoning, 7 Reasons has lead the way on bringing culinary delights to your home. We single-handily made SPAM fashionable again. For you. We advised you not to fall victim to the verbal row ignitor that is M&S’ ‘Dine in for £10’ deal. We told you to make a pizza. We told you never, ever, ever to host a dinner party. All wise words and all words that the majority of people immediately adhered to. So why were we overlooked I wonder?

5. Courage. One criticism often levied at us is that we don’t do our research. That we just write without thinking of the consequences. Nothing, it must be stressed, can be further from the truth. Each piece is painstakingly researched. Which is why we post things about wrapping up presents after the event, not before. It’s why we kayak the Pacific and then tell you not to do it. It’s why we listen to stuff by Owl City and then advise you against it. It’s why Marc goes to prison for a while and then tells you not to have sex with a penguin. All this takes a huge amount of bravery on our part and it’s a crushing blow when people just assume you wrote this while sitting on the sofa watching cricket.

6. Time Efficiency. One of 7 Reasons’ finest accomplishments is that we always adhere to our promise of posting on or before 9am each day. Today, for instance, I am posting well ahead of 9am EST. And on Monday Marc posted well before 9am BST. On Tuesday.

7. Respect. As I’ve said, we love everyone. But not quite as much as we love ourselves. And don’t for one minute think I love myself while Marc spends all day bemoaning his life. Only one of us wears the moisturiser around here and my rough, flaking, peeling skin says it isn’t me.
August 2, 2011
7 Reasons That Men Shouldn’t Wrap Birthday Presents

Did I give this the title 7 Reasons That Men Shouldn’t Wrap Birthday Presents? I didn’t really mean that. I meant 7 Reasons That Me Shouldn’t Wrap Birthday Presents. Or I, to be correct about it. Because I’m sure that there are some men out there that are good at wrapping presents. Neat, methodical men that actually welcome the task; men that positively enjoy it, in fact. The thing is though, that I’m definitely not one of them. And I’m sure that somewhere there must be other people (most likely men) who are as ill-suited to wrapping gifts as I am. Possibly. Here are seven reasons I shouldn’t be allowed to wrap stuff.

Finished! At last!

1. Loathing. I fundamentally dislike wrapping gifts. I’m not good at it and I don’t enjoy it; much like dancing a ballet or sketching a bowl of fruit, I’m temperamentally unsuited to it and it’s much better when done by others. This affects my whole approach to the burden of having to wrap presents. I will procrastinate; I will obfuscate; I will participate in the most mundane or bizarre displacement activities to avoid it. I would literally rather do anything (photograph my belly-button fluff; listen to Jedward; fellate a baboon) than wrap a present. This leads to problems.

2. Delay. It means that I will leave performing the odious task until the last possible moment. And then, when that arrives, I’ll leave it for an hour or two more. Then I’ll have a beer or two, which I may follow with some gin or – as preceded one spectacularly disastrous present-wrapping session – absinthe. I will not wrap a single birthday present until I am so tired that I absolutely have to go to bed on the eve of the birthday. Only then is it time to start wrapping.

3. Practice Makes Perfect. It’s then of course, that I am reminded of how epically, stupendously, mind-bogglingly bad I am at wrapping presents. It’s something I get to do so rarely (thankfully) that I believe I may be getting worse at it with every passing year. I only do it rarely, not because I am ungenerous, but because I am forbidden to do so. My wife – having seen many examples of my wrapping – would rather allow Prince Phillip and Pete Doherty to mind our baby for a weekend than let me wrap a gift that anyone will see (feel, or even be within the same postcode as). This division of labour suits me fine as it leaves me in charge of hammering stuff and assembling things, but it leaves me ill-equipped for the four occasions per year on which I am called to wrap presents.

4. Wrapping Is Dull. There are few tasks duller than wrapping presents. Probably. I’ve been trying to think about something duller than wrapping a present for several minutes now and have so far failed to come up with anything that tops the unremitting tediousness that is covering things for other people in paper. So I would be better off if I had a distraction from the wrapping. But I can’t watch television or listen to music while I’m wrapping because of the hour and because rustling wrapping paper is the loudest sound known to humankind outside of Muse and Vanessa Feltz being sucked into a jet engine. When you are wrapping presents, you are wrapping presents. There. Are. No. Distractions.

5. Sellotape. But there is Sellotape. There’s a fundamental flaw with Sellotape; one that renders it almost all but unusable to me. It has two sides; one of which is smooth and presents me with no problem, and then there’s the other side, which is sticky. The sticky side adheres to everything: It sticks to me, it sticks to itself, it sticks to the table, it sticks to the floor, it sticks to anything that has fallen from the table to floor and retains it in the form of a visible mass of crumbs, dust, fluff and (always) a single pubic hair stuck between the Sellotape and the wrapping paper. The only thing that Sellotape does not do – in my hands – is affix neatly and evenly to the edges of wrapping paper. One birthday, I got this reaction: “Thank you for the present, Darling. Why is there a tortilla chip stuck to it?”

6. Paper. Because I am emphatically not in charge of wrapping anything ever, I am often presented with a problem when it comes to paper. I buy wrapping paper all the time. Lots of paper. Because of this, I always expect to find an abundance of wrapping paper when I – with heavy heart – am obliged to wrap a present. But because my wife spends her entire year wrapping presents in my absence, by the time I need wrapping paper, there’s none left. Things I have been forced to resort to using in the past include: tissue paper, newspaper, plain brown paper, white A4 paper and lined A4 paper. I have also given the gift of a small and delicate bracelet presented in a large metallic red bottle bag. Last night I had to resort to using Christmas wrapping paper to wrap my wife’s birthday presents. Fortunately I was able to talk my way out of the situation this morning: “Those? Those are birthday trees, Darling…Merry Birthday!”

7. Apology. There are also many apologies involved in wrapping presents: Apologies for waking the household up by bellowing obscenities at an odd-shaped overnight bag (or Sellotape, we can’t be certain) at 0330 in the morning; apologies for affixing a dead woodlouse to the wrapping of a tub of handcream that bore the words “Be My Valentine”; apologies for the (unaccountably) ginger pubic hair that was stuck to the tube of Pringles; apologies for the “Birthday” trees line that seemed certain to work and apologies for arriving in bed with a ball of Sellotape stuck to my arm which eventually transferred to my wife’s back when she rolled over. It turns out that wrapping birthday presents is a sorry affair, as well as a messy one.

*I would, of course, like to wish my wife a very happy birthday (if not a well wrapped one). Happy Birthday, Darling.

August 1, 2011
7 Reasons to buy an Austin Seven

What’s this? You’re doubtless thinking. A 7 Reasons post on a Sunday? That’s never happened before. And you’d be right (probably). But today, history has provided us with one, in the form of an Austin Seven advert from 1933. And it’s brilliant; I’m so convinced by the arguments contained within it that I want one. So here, for your entertainment, amusement and personal betterment, is the amazing advert and also a bit of an analysis.

1. “It provides the cheapest form of road travel-a penny a mile for four, all in.” This is astonishing. If you (or I) were to purchase one of these and operate it as a taxi the profits would be so vast that we’d soon be richer than Croesus. And conveniently, less dead. Less than a penny a mile!

2. “It is extremely easy to drive, easy to park.” That’s brilliant. That will save me spending ten minutes reversing and going forward in a car before saying “fuck it” and abandoning it in the middle of the road. It will also make it easy to train others to drive it (of which more later).

3. “It needs no mechanical knowledge; it is trouble-free.” It’s an everlasting car that never needs to be tinkered with. Fantastic.

4. “It is good for five, six or even more years of hard use.” Oh, so it isn’t then. Still, that’s quite a lot of use. Especially hard use. After all, it’s hard for cars to float on the sea, so for it to last five, six or even more years when being used to drive to and from France would be a good performance.

5. “It is as fully equipped and finely finished as cars three times its size.” Superb. It’s every bit as good as the Austin Twenty-One then.

6. “It is free from superfluous weight, being the lightest saloon car made-hence its unburdened power and light running costs.” Unburdened power: I like the sound of that and, even if there are costs involved in running the lights, I don’t care. I’m sold on it. I want one.

7. “It is the only baby car proved by the public for over twelve years. No other car can give you equal results.” Wait! Baby car? That’s amazing. I have a baby. I won’t even have to drive it myself! I’m going train him to drive (it’s easy to drive, remember) and put him to work as a taxi driver. Then I can sit back and wait for all of the money to come flooding in. This is going to be amazing.

*7 Reasons will return tomorrow, probably in diamond-encrusted form, with gold taps.

July 31, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Renting A Desk Can Preserve Your Sanity

Joining us on the 7 Reasons sofa today is Rob Clymo. Rob writes on behalf of Office Genie, the UK’s first proper online marketplace for desk space and shared office space. You can even rent a desk on a ship. Which isn’t one of the reasons why a desk can preserve your sanity, but perhaps it should have been? After the ship, it’ll be Rob. (Yes, I really like the renting a desk on a ship idea. It’s a ship!)

Rent a desk. On a ship!

Why would anyone want to rent a desk? Like in an office, right? If you’ve ever had to do a hard days toil in a sweatshop for an ugly boss and work alongside even uglier colleagues then taking up residence at a rented desk might seem like your worst nightmare. But it needn’t be…

1. Networking. Believe it or not, networking can be fun although you’ll have to talk to people. And that doesn’t just mean insulting them verbally either. Despite your aversion to tedious work colleagues, things might have looked up since you’ve started working for yourself. However, picking up new deals and contracts is all about connecting with your clientele and that doesn’t mean at the end of a long pointed stick either. A rented desk could be just the way to open lots of doors. Renting a desk allows you to sit in a plush office looking like you’re worth more than you actually are.

2. Admin. If you hate paperwork and you’ve also got an aversion to doing accounts and other dull as ditch water paperwork, then why did you go into business in the first place? The great thing about renting a desk though is that there is little contractual nonsense; it’s all short-term and on a rolling basis. Simply turn up, plonk yourself down and smile – it’s all yours. Well, not quite because the landlord owns everything. Ask nicely and he may let you put up pictures though.

3. Stop The Madness. Why me? Why not? Yes, despite those dusty old school reports that state that you must try harder, it is possible to pull yourself out of the grip of bar work and pan cleaning. Go for it, and if you’re running your own show then it only seems logical that you create your own little ivory tower in a bid to drum up business. Actually, renting a desk can mean you’ll be more productive and enjoy working in a prime location alongside other people you might actually like. It beats going slowly mad in that spare bedroom of yours.

4. Location, Location, Location. Okay wise guy, what sort of location do you suggest then? A broom cupboard in Soho or a penthouse suite in Pimlico? There are desk rental options open to all sorts of workers, from freelancers and one-man band operations through to megalomaniacs and power trippers. No matter who you are, you’re able to pick a rented desk in some of the most desirable locations. Such as? Well, what about central London? What do you mean that’s an unfashionable dump – it’s the heart of big business. Apart from yours.

5. In The Beginning. How, why, what? Setting up a business is scary. You might be clueless with cash, but money talks. So hire an accountant. First up though, get yourself a decent office to hang out in and a Newton’s Cradle to impress the neighbours. All you need to do is harness the power of the internet and do a search for desk rental schemes. If you’re too tight to spend much on either yourself, or anyone else you’re hoping to employ, then rent a desk at the entry-level.

6. Start At The Bottom. What’s entry-level? This is aimed at you stoopid. You’ve got limited funds but need a flat surface for your laptop, coffee mug and lucky gonk. So, you’ll get a desk silly. And not much else. There may be tea. There may be coffee. You’ll probably get a broadband connection, but precious little else. Well, what else did you expect for a pittance? So don’t forget your laptop. Oh, and bring some toilet paper as a few landlords out there aren’t as generous as you might think.

7. Expand, Expand, Expand. But I need more. Dry your eyes and get over it. There are no friends in business, although the man who comes round to sell you overpriced sandwiches might be up for a pint after work. But, stick with it and you might need more than a solitary single workspace, as a lone desk with a coffee cup on it isn’t going to look enticing to anyone. So, push the boat out as your business goes from strength to strength by upgrading to a serviced office. What’s that? It’s a posh place with receptionists, post room and IT support. Cool huh?

July 30, 2011
7 Reasons That The Top 100 Girls Names List 2010 Is Not The Least Bit Intriguing

Yesterday, Marc became fascinated with boys. Being a man of sound intellect, he left the girls to me. In fact, he practically urged me to look at girls. And, up until January 29th 2010, I wouldn’t have needed much convincing. Nor would there have been anyone to tell me off for doing so. Things are slightly different now though, which means I need to clarify that I am only looking at 100 differently named girls for your benefit. To be honest, I got no satisfaction from dong so. Here’s why:

1. Political Impact. There are four women in the Cabinet. (They’re probably looking for the gin). There’s Theresa of course. And a Cheryl. And a Caroline. And a Baroness Warsi – who also goes by the name Sayeeda. I have to report that having studied the statistics in detail, there isn’t a Theresa, Cheryl or Caroline anywhere in the top 100 names in 2010 or 2000. Nor is there a Baroness, Warsi or Sayeeda. Which only goes to prove, absolutely nothing.

2. The Unusual. The name Esme is by far and away the most ridiculous on the list, but she was hardly languishing in 2000. She was 171st then and last year made it to 71st. Wow. Now I don’t know any Esmes and nor, I fervently hope, do you. So I wondered if there was a not-very famous person responsible for the minor increased popularity of the name. It turns out there is. She’s called Esme Kamphuis and she’s a Dutch bobsledder who finished 12th in the 2008 Winter Olympics. People are naming their girls after a fairly average bobsledder. That’s riveting.

3. F1. The name Louise has dropped out of the top 100 since its position at number 80 in 2000. It is highly unlikely this is due to ITV’s loss of Formula One coverage in 2008. I very much doubt anyone would have named their daughter after Louise Goodman. BBC’s token F1 female reporter is Lee McKenzie. The name Lee doesn’t appear in the top 100 in 2000 and nor does it appear in the top 100 in 2010. Which only goes to show that for all the impact F1 makes it may as well go to Sky Sports.

4. Alexandra. A safe name; a solid name; a sensible name; a reliable name and some might say, a dull name. And that’s absolutely spot on. The facts tell us that the name Alexandra is just as boring as you (okay, Marc, mostly Marc) had previously supposed. From its year 2000 position of somewhere outside the top 100 it went on a rollercoaster ride in which it plunged to somewhere outside the top 100 in 2009 and then, in a monumental upswing of fortunes in 2010, scaled the list back to somewhere outside the top 100. Breathtaking it is not. Turns out that Alexandra is as dull as we thought it was. Making it the perfect name for my daughter.

5. Noah. I can state categorically that no girl has ever been named Noah. Not even when they played the lead role in the play with the animals and the arc. Fascinating stuff, huh?

6. Roberta. What the hell happened to Roberta? Well, nothing. It was never a good name in the first place and I am pleased to say it has continued in that vein ever since. Here are some names from last year that are considerably more popular than Roberta: Elizabeth, Lucy, Emily, Rachel and Claire. Who the hell knows more Elizabeths, Lucys, Emilys, Rachels and Claires than Robertas? Exactly, everyone. There’s about as much insight here as there is in Wayne Rooney… actually, that sentence stops there.

7. Self-Interest. One of the most boring things about the list itself is that none of my family are on it. I’m not on it – which confirms what I have always suspected, I’m a boy. My mum’s not on it. My fiancée isn’t on it. My aunts aren’t on it. My great aunts aren’t on it. Which has no impact on me at all. And I very much doubt it bothers you either.

July 29, 2011
7 Reasons That The Top 100 Boys Names List 2010 is Intriguing

The ONS list of the most popular baby names in the UK during 2010 has been published and there are some stunning results. We’re not going to look at the girls names (because they could be used for a second post), today we’re going to look at boys names. Here are seven reasons that the list is intriguing.

1. Political Impact. The name Cameron has steeply declined in popularity. In 2000 it was the 24th most popular boys name; in 2009 it had fallen steeply to number 52, and in 2010 it fell further to number 61. For the sake of political balance we’ll take a look the opposition too: Ed hasn’t been in charge for long enough to be of any use, so we’ll look at the name Gordon. Gordon is such a deeply unpopular man…sorry…name, we’re discussing names here, that it doesn’t appear on the list at all. Not in 2010, not in 2009 and not in 2000. It turns out that Gordon has always been deeply unpopular. Oh, and as for Nick, who cares? Nope, me either.

2. The Unusual. The name Kayden, which languished at number 1425 at the turn of the millennium (who knew that the word millennium had two Ns?) has rocketed up to number 99 on last year’s list. Now I don’t know any Kaydens and nor, I fervently hope, do you, so I wondered if there was a famous Kayden responsible for the increased popularity of the name. It turns out there is. She’s called Kayden Kross and she’s a porn actress who got into the business because she wanted to buy a pony. People are naming their boys after a porn star. A female porn star. That is weird. They would have been better off naming them after the pony.

3. F1. The name Jenson has risen in popularity over the last ten years from 273 up to 96. This can surely only be attributable to the popularity of Jenson Button. The name Lewis also appears at number 27 on the list. Okay, so it’s decreased in popularity a bit over the last ten years, but it’s still a very well-used name. As for the name Fernando, well that appears nowhere, which is how I like it. It goes to show that the British public do have some taste. Despite the weird porn thing.

4. Alexander: A safe name; a solid name; a sensible name; a reliable name and some might say, a dull name. But that just isn’t true. The facts tell us that the name Alexander is more exciting than you (okay, I, mostly I) had previously supposed. From its year 2000 position of number 21 it went on a rollercoaster ride in which it plunged to number 22 in 2009 and then, in a monumental upswing of fortunes in 2010, scaled the list back to number 21. Breathtaking. Turns out that Alexander isn’t as dull as we thought it was.

5. Noah. Over the past ten years, the name Noah has risen from number 134 on the list to number 18. I’m sure we all know a Noah*. But I’m not keen on this name at all. In fact, I firmly believe that the popularity of this name could be a consequence of society having become increasingly more noisy over the past ten years. After all, it’s easy to mishear a mumbled reply of cluelessness when near heavy traffic, a mobile phone or a laptop:

What shall we call him, darling?

Noah, dear.

That’s certainly more probable than everyone making the same feeble joke about a boy being born or conceived at a time of heavy rain, isn’t it? I hope so.

6. Robert. What the hell has happened to Robert? It’s at number 90! When I was at school it seems that approximately a third of all boys were called Robert but now it’s only the 90th most popular name in the UK. Here are some names from last year that are considerably more popular than the name Robert: Ethan, bloody Noah, Jayden (which is the correct spelling of Kayden), Riley, Logan, Tyler, Finley, Mason and Kai. Kai! Who the hell knows more Kais then they know Roberts, Robs, Robbys, Bobbys and Bobs? In 2010, Robert has plummeted so far in popularity that it’s lower on the list than Caleb. How many Calebs have you ever met? It turns out the only thing you can do to have a less popular name than Robert is to be called Gordon or be related to me.

7. Self-Interest. One of the most striking things about the list itself is that none of my immediate family are on it. I’m not on it. My son’s not on it. My wife isn’t on it (the girls version of the list, obviously). Fred and Rose make the lists – despite the exploits of the West family – but no one that shares my surname is on them. I can’t help but feel a little left out. Does this epic societal rejection make us the least popular family in the UK? Should we change our names by deed poll to sensible conventional names like Harley, Hayden, Jayden, Kayden or Kai? Are we going to be cast adrift in a lifeboat or exiled to the Isle of Wight? I suspect it’s going to mean that we’re just going to have to continue spelling our names out to people, but still, it would be nice to be loved.

*That’s a top clothing and accessories bit of wordplay especially for girls, right there.

July 28, 2011
7 Reasons The London 2012 Olympic Medal Isn’t Very British

A year today the XXX Olympiad will be declared open in London. Today – for reasons I have failed to establish – Britain is celebrating this fact. As part of these celebrations, the medal which will be awarded to winners (as well as first and second losers) has been unveiled. The gold version looks like this:

Now, I know what you are thinking. It’s not very British. Which is why we here at 7 Reasons have designed seven alternatives.

1. Weather. Despite our recent protestations it does seem that the vast majority of Britons love the weather. And certainly, if you ask a foreigner, they’ll say we are absolutely obsessed with it. So why didn’t we celebrate that?

2. Chavs. I can’t say I’m a massive fan, but chavs as fundamental a part of British society as Morecambe & Wise, fish & chips and Andrew Strauss’ jock-strap.

3. Tea. For some bizarre and unfathomable reason one half of the 7 Reasons team doesn’t drink tea. I dare say he also harbours a deep desire to be French. Still, we can’t go around catering for one misinformed individual. The fact is, tea is British (possibly via China) and Britishness is tea. And we should have celebrated it.

4. Royalty. Another very British trait is our love for the Royal Family. At least it is if you ask an American. Goodness knows how they’d react if they ever met a Republican. Of all the Royals though, there is particular fondness and admiration for the Queen. Which is why this medal celebrates Freddie Mercury’s moustache.

5. Queue. Unlike the French who riot (or go on strike) if someone beats them to a till, us Brits love a good queue. We could be in it for hours and not even stifle a yawn. We’ll be dealt with eventually. Just bide your time Britain, bide your time. And wear a queuing medal.

6. Pride. We don’t moan, we don’t complain, we don’t sulk. We just suck in the big ones, take it on the chin and carry on. That is the British way. Which is why we’d have liked to have seen Usain Bolt wearing a medal that depicts Leslie Ash’s stiff upper lip.

7. Beer. When the day is done and the battle has been won, there is nothing that hits the spot quite like a warm beer with a massive head.

July 27, 2011
7 Reasons Not To Have A Bat In Your Dining Room

This may come as something of a surprise to regular readers of 7 Reasons, but we’re not experts on everything that we write about. Often, our pieces contain much speculation and conjecture. Today’s piece, however, is different. Today’s piece is written from experience. If you should find yourself in a dining room with a bat, this is exactly how it will go down.

1. Surprise! As you sit in your dining room on a quiet Saturday night catching up on missed television programmes using the iPlayer, you’ll feel relaxed and at ease. You’ll take a sip of your drink and languidly stretch out your legs. You’ll stifle a yawn and stretch out your arms. Eventually, you’ll lean back in your seat and glance up toward the ceiling light, to ascertain what is casting the strange shadow that you have seen from the corner of your eye for the past few seconds. Then you’ll scream involuntarily and bolt from the room and slam the door shut behind you. A large bat flying around your dining room will come as something of a surprise to you.

2. Disbelief. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” Your wife will enquire in a startled manner, somewhat surprised by your shrieking.

“There’s a bat in the dining room.”

“What?”

“There’s a bat in the dining room.”

“What?”

“Bat!” (You’ll flap your arms about miming flight at this point). “Dining room!” (You’ll also point at the dining room.)

“What’s it doing in there?”

“Flying around the ceiling lamp and watching a documentary about Stalin.”

Rather disbelievingly, your wife will go to the dining room, open the door slightly and peer through the gap. On closing it very quickly, she will then announce that “there’s a bat in the dining room”.

3. Spin. Anxious that you should always see the positive side of any situation, you’ll start brainstorming. A bat in the dining room could be a good thing, you’ll think. A bat in the dining room would mean that there would never be any insects in there. A bat in the dining room would ensure that you could write in there with absolutely no chance of interruption: You could look at the internet with no chance of interruption! A bat in the dining room would…be a bloody great bat in the dining room. It turns out that the elephant in the room is that there’s a bat in the room. There’s no upside so good that it can surmount the fact that your dining room contains a bat.

4. Whimsy. Having established that having a bat in the dining room is a bad thing, you’ll turn your mind to what the hell to do with it. “We could call the RSPCA”, your wife will suggest.

“We’re not being cruel to it. We’re being inconvenienced by it.”

“Perhaps there’s a local bat group.”

“Yes, maybe they could send some sort of bat man.”

“A dog warden?”

“Or, we could call Commissioner Gordon and he could raise the bat-signal. Perhaps we could…”

5. Motivation. “…Oh my god!”

“What?!”

“My gin and tonic’s in there!”

6. De-batting. “Darling”, you’ll say, “We’re just going to have to man-up and deal with the bat ourselves…In you go.” This motivational speech will fail to make her deal with the bat on your behalf, so you’ll have to work as a team. You will close every door in the house (so the bat can’t start terrorising you in other rooms) and your wife will peer back into the dining room. She will find that the bat is still flying around in there, fluttering in haphazard circles around the ceiling light like a terrifying and gigantic moth. A behemoth*. You’ll formulate a plan. You will run in, raise the blind, open the window and run out again: Your wife will be in charge of opening and closing the door. You’ll take a deep breath and steel yourself for the task. Eventually, though too soon for you, your wife will open the door and you will burst into the room and stride toward the blind. Startled by the sudden presence in the room, the bat will realise that flying around is not a safe thing to do and he will decide to land. At the very instant that you arrive at the blind, the bat will land on it, inches from your face. “Aaaarrrgghhh”, you’ll scream as you run out of the room. Your wife will close the door.

You’ll realise that another plan is called for. If you raise the blind with the bat on it, you’ll just squash the bat. You’ll have a flat bat. And bats, if you flatten them, appear bigger. So, if you can’t raise the blind and open the window, you’ll have to trap the bat and remove it. Having rummaged in the kitchen cupboard for a suitable container for a considerable time, your wife will emerge with her Tupperware bat-trap. This time, she will be in charge of trapping the bat, and you will be in charge of the door (yay!) and the lid (boo!). You’ll open the door and your wife will stride in and head toward the blind with the container held out in front of her. Arriving at the blind she’ll cover the bat with the container. Now that the bat is safely contained, you’ll enter the room clutching the lid. You’ll slide the lid slowly and carefully between the blind and the Tupperware box and affix it. Phew.

7. Post-bat. As you breathe your sigh of relief the bat will let out a heart-rending squeak. Your wife will head into the back garden to release the bat and you’ll be in charge of the back door (yay again!). The moment that the lid is removed, the bat will flutter out and your wife will scream and run toward the door, which will cause you to laugh. Briefly. Eventually, having congratulated your wife on her brave conduct in the face of a big, scary bat and having closed every window in the house (twice), you’ll return to the comfort and security of Josef Stalin and your gin and tonic. Then you’ll discover that the bat has left you a “present” on your white Verner Panton stackable chair.

So there you go. That’s roughly what will happen if you have a bat in your dining room. I don’t recommend it.

*You’ll be inordinately proud of that wordplay.

July 26, 2011