Tag: 7 reasons

Guest Post: 7 Reasons Dolphins Are The Physical Embodiment Of Evil

The 7 Reasons sofa tour of the USA takes another break this week as we head back to Blighty. Desperately in need of tea (Jon) and coffee (Marc) we have parked up in Manchester. By pure coincidence this also happens to be the home of perennial 7 Reasons guest writer, Liz Gregory. Luckily we arrive whilst Liz is tackling dolphins. Not literally of course, just literarily. I’m sure you do it already, but here is a reminder that you can read Liz’s work more regularly over at Things To Do In Manchester.

Cute, friendly creatures, right? WRONG. Dolphins are plotting the destruction of the human race, and it’s only a matter of time before an episode of Dr Who documents this possibility. Here’s why:

1. Too Intelligent By Half. Dolphin-supporters are keen to hold up cleverness as a reason to admire these marine menaces rather than fear them. But honestly, if you were that clever, would you be satisfied with jumping through hoops for treats? No, thought not.

2. Horrid Sinister Curly Mouth. I can always tell when my husband has misbehaved or is telling fibs because his mouth goes curly at the edges. Dolphins’ mouths do this ALL THE TIME, because they are plotting ALL THE TIME.

3. Sinister Clicking Noises. I accept that all creatures communicate in their own way, but why that communication system has to involve a series of unpleasant clicks and whirring is beyond me. Either talk properly, or be quiet.

4. That Episode Of The Simpsons. “Night of the Dolphin” aired in 2000 to great rejoicing from the anti-dolphin community, because it showed the truth: interfering Lisa frees a load of dolphins from an aquatic park and they repay her faith by taking over the world. That’s because they want WORLD DOMINATION, and you can’t say you weren’t warned about this ten years ago.

5. Too Keen To Befriend The Human Race. Aah, how lovely – dolphins are always quick to swim alongside humans in the sea, no doubt in a bid to bond and strike up cross-species friendships. No – they want to rob you, and have yet to work out that humans don’t carry money, phones or keys in swimwear. Not so clever now, eh?

6. Too Many Friends In The Sea, Big Ones. The dolphins are undoubtedly the brains beyond the aquatic world domination plan, but obviously they need a bit of muscle behind them. And have you seen how big those whales are? They’ll be the ones blocking the doors when the dolphins storm the Houses of Parliament.

7. Retractable Legs, Probably. You may scoff, and point out that we will always be safe from the snub-nosed ones because they are rubbish on land, what with having no legs and all. I have one thing to say to this: you didn’t think Daleks could go up stairs either, did you?

So remember: stay away from the water, lock all your doors, and NEVER wave a hoop at a dolphin – they have VERY long memories. Click, click, whir.

August 7, 2010
7 Reasons That Twitter Should Replace The Fail Whale

Tharr she blows! It’s the Fail Whale. Don’t panic though, dear reader. This doesn’t mean that our website is down. We’re just fed up of the Fail Whale, Twitter’s iconic image which surfaces whenever the social media network isn’t functioning. Beautiful as it is, we think that it’s time to replace it. Here are seven reasons why.

1. It’s Not Fair To Whales. Whales have enough problems without Twitter tainting them with failure by association. Zeppelins, like Twitter, are cool. Yet they’re already associated with failure. What better way to show that the network is down?

2. Sometimes It Appears Erroneously. Sometimes the Fail Whale appears once, only to disappear when you refresh the screen. This means that Twitter isn’t wholly down, it’s just working slowly. For that eventuality, they require a Fail Snail.

3. Because Twitter Is Down A Lot. Twitter is a huge success and has grown rapidly. Yet their servers seem unable to cope. This constantly frustrates users and, in turn, leads to ill-will towards the network. If they don’t sort their technical issues out soon, they may find themselves becoming extinct. The Fail Dodos would remind them of this.

4. It Doesn’t Suggest A Helpful Alternative. The Fail Whale doesn’t really tell you much. This image though, suggests an alternative and more reliable – though archaic – method of communication to use while twitter is down. Behold, the Fail Mail.

5. The Image Suggests Functionality. The Fail Whale image shows a whale being held aloft by Twitter’s cute little birds. Rather than suggesting that Twitter isn’t working, the Fail Whale image suggests that it is. A far less plausible, and therefore more accurate, image would be the Fail Bird: A large Twitter bird being kept airborne by school of fail whales.

6. Sleep. Because the Fail Whale image is slightly reminiscent of Dali’s Sleep, which is a much more interesting thing to look at. And it’s important to be stimulated while you’re unable to communicate with people.

7. It Doesn’t Go Far Enough. It’s a pretty picture, but the Fail Whale image doesn’t state what is occurring in clear enough terms. This is far more descriptive.

And yes, we did put most of these images together last night, while Twitter was down.

August 6, 2010
7 Reasons That The Banging is Probably a Good Thing.

The house next door to us, having stood empty for some time, has finally been sold and my wife and I met the new owners and several of their dogs last weekend. They seem like a nice couple and, not unreasonably, they want to get on with renovating their house before they move in. The builders – unannounced – started work at seven o’clock this morning. They started with a sledgehammer in the bedroom, pounding on the party wall, several inches from our heads. This was a surprise. Still, I always try to see the positive in every situation and, to that end, I decided to write 7 Reasons That The Banging is Probably a Good Thing.

1. Efficiency. My wife always complains that she never gets enough done during the summer holidays but now – as she’s up at seven o’clock, rather than nine – her day will be 12.5% more time-efficient. It’s only day one of the banging, but she’s already accomplished many things in her extra two hours. These include: Swearing like a dock-worker; slamming every door in the house; winning a light-welterweight boxing-match with the sofa (TKO: Round 6) and preventing her husband from murdering a man in a checked-shirt. If the banging continues for more than a week she will probably solve global warming, bring about world peace, organise her shoe-rack and discover a cure for cancer, though experience tells me that one of those suppositions is fanciful.

2. Numbers. The banger, bangs steadily and rhythmically in sixes, leaving a six second interval between bursts of hammering. 1-2-3-4-5-6…1-2-3-4-5-6…1-2-3-4-5-6…. I think in sevens, so my numerical horizons are being broadened by the banging. This can only be a good thing, though it is always a relief when our numbers coincide at forty-two. I have taken to celebrating every forty-second bang by growling like a walrus and bellowing, “SHUT UP YOU BASTARD!”.

3. Discovery. As I wound the duvet tightly around my head, to lessen the sound of the banging, I discovered a lump between duvet and cover. On further investigation, it turned out to be a missing purple sock. So now I know where the missing socks go. They’re in my duvet cover. At last, an age-old mystery solved, all thanks to the banging. I also found an orange sock that I didn’t recognise: Feel free to email me if it belongs to you.

4. Décor. The banging isn’t just improving the house next door. It’s improving ours too. We were never entirely sure if the framed Japanese print above the fireplace in our bedroom was the right way up, and we both had opposing views on whether it was. Now that it’s lying on the floor though, with its frame shattered into a thousand pieces, it will no longer be a bone of contention and we’ll have a more harmonious marriage as a result. Yay! Thank you, banging.

5. You. I do a lot of my best creative thinking while lying in bed. If it weren’t for the banging, you’d have been reading something rather more considered and rational right now like 7 Reasons That The Age of Enlightenment Was Anything But, or 7 Reasons That France Should Invade The Vatican but, as a result of the pervasive, over-bearing din that is currently preventing me from pursuing any logical thought, or using the toilet (though you don’t really need to know about that), you’re reading about the banging instead. So we’re all benefiting from it.

6. Comparison. Another unexpected benefit was that the unremitting cacophony of the banging, when combined with the sound-baffling properties of my duvet-turban, and the low, wailing sound that I was emitting made listening to Nicky Campbell on 5Live Breakfast almost tolerable. I didn’t even want to punch him.

7. The Relief. The wave of domestic-serenity and abject calm that washed over our home when the banging stopped at eleven o’clock was indescribable. The euphoria I felt at the cessation of the tumult was almost worth having endured the prior four hours of torture for. And that was my opinion until 11:20am, when the banging started again.*

*Coming soon: 7 Reasons That The Punishment for Killing Builders Should be a Stern Look and a Cursory Slap on the Wrist, M’Lud.

August 5, 2010
7 Reasons They Treat Me With Suspicion In The Pharmacy

My girlfriend asked me to pick a prescription up for her. Oh dear.

1. The Set-Up. ‘Hello,’ I say, ‘I’ve come to pick a prescription up for my girlfriend’. ‘Okay,’ the pharmacist replies. This is good. I had worried the pharmacist might treat me with suspicion. But men picking up prescriptions for their girlfriends is obviously something he sees a lot. ‘What’s the name?’ he asks me. ‘Claire Elizabeth Quinn,’ I say. Or at least that is what I meant to say. Instead I can’t quite get the words out and end up saying, ‘Clar Lizabet Queen’. ‘Pardon,’ he replies, now viewing me with slight suspicion.

2. The Name. I know my girlfriend’s name. I know it off by heart. I have said it hundreds of times. I should just say it again. I can do that. Only I don’t. I actually look at the piece of paper I have in my hand and read from it. I am reading my girlfriend’s name out! I am acting as if I don’t know her! I look up and the pharmacist is looking at me. He is actually looking right at me. As if I’m a bit insane. Either that or as if I am someone trying to pick up drugs that aren’t mine.

3. The Search. After what seems like a five minute pause, the Pharmacist starts looking for the prescription. And he keeps looking. And he keeps looking. But he can’t find it! He turns back to me. I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking, ‘Is this guy genuine?’ But what is worse, he knows, that I know, that he is thinking, ‘Is this guy genuine?’. I shuffle uncomfortably.

4. The Pharmacist’s Assistant. The pharmacist calls for back-up. It appears in the form of a woman from behind me. I hadn’t even seen her when I walked in. Was she hiding? Was she a body language expert? Could she identify a prescription stealer just by looking at someone’s shoulders? Oh, this is stupid. Why am I feeling conscious? I really am Clar Lizabet Queen’s boyfriend. ‘Just a minute,’ she says to me. Oh my goodness! She’s going to call the police!

5. The Address. But she doesn’t call the police. Instead she shouts out from a room to the back of the pharmacy, ‘What’s the address?’ Oh no! What’s the address? I can’t remember the address! I can’t remember my address! I feel a knot tighten in my stomach. ‘Stay calm’, I tell myself, ‘just focus’. I take a deep breath, open my mouth and give her my address. It’s definitely the right address. I’m sure it’s the right address. I think.

6. The Wait. But then all there is silence. No confirmation that I had indeed named my address correctly. Just silence. And then the pharmacist goes to the back of the shop and suddenly I am alone. And the silence is all around me. What are they doing? I look around. I see women’s things. The pharmacy is full of women’s things! Thankfully the pharmacist’s assistant reappears. ‘It won’t be a minute,’ she says. ‘Thanks,’ I reply. But I’m not really thankful because she has gone to her place of hiding in the front of the shop again and I can feel her staring into my back.

7. The Handover. Eventually the pharmacist himself appears and hands me the prescription. But I can tell he’s still not sure. He’s still not sure about me. He’s loathed to hand it over to me. It seems ever-so-slightly like it’s stuck to his hand. I feel bad snatching it from him. I give him my thanks and leave the pharmacy. My walk home turns into a jog. I hide in the garden.

August 4, 2010
7 Reasons to Make Your own Pizza

Making your own pizza is amazing. It’s fun, produces tasty results, and is a more self-satisfying activity than cooking almost anything else, no matter how complicated or tasty. Here are seven reasons to make your own pizza.

1. Environment. If you make your own pizza, then chances are that you’ll be doing it in your own home. This is good. Your own home is nicer than visiting your local takeaway and you probably won’t see a fight there. You also won’t see overweight couples attired in sportswear eating something unidentifiable from a polystyrene box, and there’ll be little chance of witnessing kebab-meat rotating on a pole, which will prevent nightmares. You can order a pizza by phone, of course, but then a moped just takes it to someone else’s house instead. Someone in New Earswick (we have no idea where this is either) gets all of our pizzas. It’s a reciprocal arrangement; we get all of their taxis. Anyway, I digress; not having to visit a takeaway to enjoy a pizza at home will make you feel ever so slightly smug.

2. Bonding. Making pizzas is something that you and your partner can do together. You can also make pizzas with children, who seem to find the whole experience very enjoyable indeed. They’ll have loads of fun putting the ingredients on top of the pizza and, however they arrange it, it will always resemble something rude, which will give you a laugh. Of course, you won’t be able to share the joke with them, and being in on the joke always makes people feel smug.

3. Healthy. Because you’re choosing your own ingredients, your pizza can be healthy. The total cheese content can be limited to a few slices of Buffalo mozzarella, rather than coming loaded with plastic-y processed cheese, more salt than you would expect to find in a minor ocean, and weird globules of fat sitting on top of it. Eating healthy pizza will prolong your life; meaning that you can be smug for longer.

4. Garnish. Rather than the flavourless offerings of the takeaway or the supermarket, your homemade pizza can be topped with herbs from your own garden, which will taste fresh and great. Using herbs from your own garden will elevate you to a whole new level of smuggery: You may even begin to pronounce herbs, ‘erbs, which will propel you serenely across the line between being merely smug and being a smug git.

5. Cost. The ingredients for a home-made pizza cost far less than buying a pre-made pizza from a supermarket or takeaway. And eventually you can spend the money you’ve saved on a yurt, a folding bicycle, a chimenea, orange trousers or any other must-have accoutrement that takes your fancy.

6. Dough. If you have a bread-maker, you can also make your own dough really easily. You can make it with brown or wholemeal flour, instead of the ubiquitous white stuff and you can also spin it around your head and generally hurl it about your kitchen, while pretending to be Italian. This is more fun than almost anything. David Cameron has a bread-maker.

7. Self-Sufficiency. A pizza-topping can be constructed from many ingredients that you can grow in your garden. And if you get a buffalo, you’ll be almost entirely self-sufficient. Anyone know how to milk one of these?

August 3, 2010
7 Reasons foursquare And I Are Going To Have A Tricky Relationship

I have heard quite a bit about foursquare in recent weeks. Yesterday there was a piece in The Sunday Times about it. I read it. I didn’t understand it. This morning I signed up. Unfortunately, foursquare took this as a sign that I would like to be bullied. Bad move foursquare. You picked the wrong man on the wrong day. I was not in the mood.

1. foursquare Would Like To Connect To Your facebook Account. Yes, well Jonathan Lee wouldn’t. We’ve only just met and, quite frankly, I don’t trust you. You’re from New York. I’ve heard about what New Yorkers do with vital statistics and you’re certainly not doing the same to mine.

2. i) foursquare Would Like To Connect To Your twitter Account. Okay, you may do this on the basis that anything I put on twitter is public anyway. Now what? Oh, that’s nice, three of my twitter friends are already on foursquare. Or, as they are otherwise known, ‘three people I have never met’.

2. ii) foursquare Would Like To Add Your twitter Friends. Jonathan Lee wouldn’t. It’s one thing adding people you don’t know on twitter, quite another using an application that promotes stalking. If it’s all the same with you, I will remain foursquare friendless. You don’t recommend that? Yes, well I don’t recommend unicycling along a high-wire while kitted out in bondage gear, but we all have our differences don’t we?

3. foursquare Offers Rewards To Frequent ‘Checkers-in’. The rewards can range from ‘half-off’ drinks, to free admission to museums. Jonathan Lee is not impressed. If this relationship is going to work, you need to understand that I don’t consider having my drink halved as a ‘reward’. I consider it a mild-nuisance at best. And, at worst, tiresome.

4. foursquare iPhone App Would Like To Add Your Current Location. Jonathan Lee doesn’t. He is very happy doing some work at home without the whole of foursquare’s Jehovah Witness community knowing where he is.

5. foursquare Will Only Let You Become A Mayor If You Upload A Photo. Jonathan Lee tells you to shove your photo where the foursquare don’t shine. If Jonathan Lee wants to become a mayor without a photo, he bloody well will. And he doesn’t take kindly to some Yank telling him otherwise.

6. foursquare Recommends You Head Out And Earn Some Badges. Jonathan Lee likes collecting badges. Unfortunately, Jonathan Lee doesn’t like collecting badges if all he has to do is ‘check-in’ everytime he goes to Pizza Hut. Where is the challenge in that? At Cubs he had to jump over things and try not to burn things and look through a telescope at things and post melons through the old lady’s letterbox because she wouldn’t open the door. That was a challenge. Earning a badge for continuous checking-in at Pizza Hut is the kind of politically correct, everyone’s-a-winner, no-such-thing-as-losers, nanny-stated, liberalisation that Jonathan Lee deplores. And Pizza Hut is miles away.

7. foursquare Recommends The fiddme App. Jonathan Lee read the recommendation as the fiddle me app. He has now deleted it. Don’t waste my bloody time foursquare.

August 2, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Man Maketh Mask

Hello! Marc here. Happy Yorkshire Day. Regular visitors to the site will doubtless be aware that we’re expecting 7 Reasons: The Trailer to be ready very soon. But it isn’t ready yet. I didn’t want to sit about waiting for it to arrive though – as I am reliably informed that the devil will do something with my hands – so I decided to work on something else.

You might remember that a few months ago, in an attempt to encourage ambient advertising, Jon made PDF encoded masks that readers could order via email. They weren’t a great success though. From the moment we offered them, Jon was inundated with so many requests that our server crashed, causing us to receive none of the emails. Either that, or no one ordered one, we’re not sure which.

As I was waiting for the trailer though, I had a think. I realised that I could actually use one of these masks, perhaps profitably, so I decided to make one. I sent Jon an email requesting the mask PDF files and received this prompt response:

I don’t know where they are. Why do you want them? What are you up to, Fearns?

I sent an email back suggesting that they were probably somewhere near his computer and, quite soon thereafter, I received the PDF files. Here is a guide to making a 7 Reasons mask.

Step 1 (For some reason, I seem to be accustomed to numbering things): Print mask onto good quality paper. Find a similar sized piece of cardboard. Assemble tools (scissors, glue, double-sided sticky tape, a craft or Stanley knife and elastic).

Step 2: Discover that your wife has hidden a can of spray-mount in her bureau. Get very excited. Jump up and down. Abandon the double-sided sticky tape and the boring, conventional glue.

Step 3: Spray glue onto everything in the room (including own hand). Clean up mess using J cloth. Get wife to unstick your hand from the J cloth. Receive a withering look. Stick mask to cardboard.

Step 4: Using the scissors, cut the excess material from the mask. Unstick your hand from the mask. Go and wash your hands.

Step 5: Take your Stanley or craft knife and begin to gouge Jon’s eyes out. Wince and feel queasy while you do this. Tell the Jon mask not to look.

Step 6: Return the mask’s wink.

Step 7: Be un-nerved by zombie Jon.

Step 8: Using scissors, make small holes at the side of the mask and feed the elastic through them, tying it off with knots at the front; take special care not to include your little finger in the knot, as it will take an awful lot of shaking and swearing to extricate it.

Step 9: Put on mask. You are now ready to begin your crime spree.

Step 10: Wander into the living room and say, “Hello”. Your wife, once she has finished screaming and when her breathing has normalised will say, “don’t you dare wear that to bed”. Your cat will not say anything, but will exhibit a hitherto unimagined turn of speed as he bolts through the living room door and flees in the general direction of the kitchen. You will eventually find him, some hours later, in the garden hiding behind the compost bin. After many hours you will be able to tempt him out with biscuits, though he will refuse to enter the living room for several days.

So that’s how to wreak domestic havoc by making a mask, in ten simple steps. Next week, Jon demonstrates how to bring an end to Western civilisation by baking a potato. Or the trailer will be ready (we hope).

August 1, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Americans Call Football Soccer

After a brief stopover in England last week, the sofa is back on its tour of the USA. This Saturday we have wound up in…er…we’re not sure (we forgot to bring a compass and our map seems to have been printed upside-down). Literally thousands of people raced from their homes to see what the fuss was about, but it was Breana Orland who won the place on the 7 Reasons chaise longue. And it’s a good job she did because she’s going to explain to us one of life’s mysteries. Just why do Americans call football, soccer.

Breana Orland is a writer for Student Grants. She also gives advice on the pursuit of higher education and career options for young adults.

Leave it to the bloody yanks to bastardize the world’s sport by giving it a different name and, refusing so thoroughly to recognize its real name, that we assign it to a completely dissimilar sport. As per our usual custom, Americans have to do everything on their own terms. First we separated from England. Then we said no to the metric system (forget the liter, I need a gallon of milk!) and driving on the wrong side of the road (if we drive on the right side, then yours must be wrong). And finally, we took the most beloved sport in the world, football, and applied the name to a sport that should by all rights be called handball. And we named football, soccer. But if you ever wondered what caused Americans to raise the ire of football fans everywhere by giving it a new name, here are a few things you may want to consider.

1. We Already Have A Sport With That Name. Football may be THE international sport (played with feet), but here in America, football is a game that is played on Sunday by enormous men in spandex and padding that line up facing each other like they’re reenacting a pre-revolutionary battlefield. It is a sport played mainly with hands on the ball, but for some reason, we call it football.

2. Because Of The Soc? No, not the funny socks they wear. Apparently, soccer was a slang term derived from “soc” in the original name “associated football”, and since we gave the name football to the gridiron sport, the international sport of the same name got the short end of the soc.

3. We’re contrary! Deal with it! There’s a reason everyone thinks Americans are, um, jerks. We kind of are. You wanna go?!

4. New language Is Our Bag, Baby. Sure we inherited our national tongue from the British, but you don’t hear us running around shouting “Bollocks!” or “Pip, pip, cheerio!” In keeping our image as the kid who ran away from Mommy and Daddy, we have adopted our own accents and colloquialisms and set to making up words. If you don’t believe me, just consider the fact that “truthiness”, a fake word made popular by The Colbert Report’s Stephen Colbert, was actually added to the dictionary.

5. Soccer Is America’s Sport. That’s right; we jacked the world’s sport and gave it our own name. Then we stole England’s soccer legend (but Becks, wouldn’t you really rather live in Los Angeles?). Then we embarrassed them at the World Cup (okay, they embarrassed themselves). And still, it is the least recognized sport in our country. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

6. We did it our way. At least, according to Frank Sinatra. And the Chairman of the Board is never wrong. Americans always have to do things their own way, even if it means that we’re going against the entire world and firmly established facts or traditions.

7. We’re idiots. At least, according to the rest of the world. Apparently we just don’t get it and we never will. Maybe if you called it soccer…

July 31, 2010
7 Reasons I Should Sue Disney

Disney might have a reputation for making child friendly animations, but each and every one of them gave me nightmares. And I can’t be alone. The animators did some bloody scary things when they were colouring in.

Nightmare 1. Snow White And The Seven Dwarves. The Queen in Snow White concocts a potion and turns into my then next-door neighbour. As a result of not being able to bring myself to go next door, Disney owe me £45.75. (Or 22 tennis balls, one football and three badminton shuttlecocks).

[youtube l9GJtM9lN-I Snow White – Queen Becomes The Witch]

Nightmare 2. Jungle Book. The slippery snake that is Kaa decides to make his eyes go all funny. Disney owe me two years worth of eyes as that is how long I spent not looking directly at people.

[youtube TRASn4tcXFE Jungle Book – Kaa Hypnotizes Mowgli]

Nightmare 3. The Little Mermaid. The ugliest creation ever. And she wanted to hurt Ariel. Disney owe me a £5000 Hackett voucher for the clothes I ruined using lesser quality soap powders. They only have themselves to blame. If they’d called her Daz…

[youtube LG8qwzUE1jE The Little Mermaid – Ursula The Witch]

Nightmare 4. Fantasia. The whole film was nightmare enough. How long did it last? Two weeks or something? This scene inparticular gave me the creeps though. Dancing broomsticks. Well, actually, not just dancing broomsticks. Dancing broomsticks and a haunting musical accompaniment. Disney owe me house cleaner.

[youtube R-7Qar1lFjo Fantasia – The Sorcerer’s Apprentice]

Nightmare 5. Lady And The Tramp. Not only did the siamese cats look scary, the bloody song made them terrifying. Disney owe me a pet.

[youtube TpPGE_SKtA4 Lady And The Tramp – Siamese Cats]

Nightmare 6. Dumbo. Elephants made out of bubbles. Need I say more. This is probably the single most scary act in any Disney film ever. Disney owe me 3000 litres of soapy water as this is how much I threw out instead of making bubbles from it. You know, just in case.

[youtube RJv2Mugm2RI Dumbo – Pink Elephants On Parade]

Nightmare 7. Bambi’s Mum Dies. Why? Why did this have to happen? What had Bambi’s mum done to the bastard who shot her? From the very moment I saw this – when cinema tickets cost about £1.90 – I was scarred. Disney owe me a deer. Called ‘Mother’.

[youtube -eHr-9_6hCg Bambi – Bambi’s Mum Dies]

July 30, 2010
7 Reasons To Keep Calm And Carry On

1. Decorum. Because a hubbub or a brouhaha would be unseemly.

2. Because You’re British. It’s what’s expected of you. It’s what comes naturally. Your reaction to an unforseen and potentially frightening event should be one of unflappable fortitude and apparent indifference. No flapping. Got that?

3. Consequences. If you should flap then someone with a plummy voice will be forced to administer a swift slap and command you to “pull yourself together”. That constitutes a scene. No one wants a scene.

4. Tradition. It’s what that formidable lady, Great Aunt Harriet, would have wanted. She kept calm, probably in a winceyette nightgown. I doubt there was much carrying on though.

5. Because It’s Relevant. It’s an iconic slogan that’s rooted deep in the past – though it was never actually used during World War II – but its message still holds good today. Why worry about that double-dip recession that you can’t do much to influence? Why worry about potential terrorist activity that you can’t stop? Why worry about the man peering over your shoulder as you read this? No, on second thoughts, do worry about him. He’s probably up to no good.

6. Because The French Do Neither. We keep calm and carry on. The French do not: They je ne sais quoi. On bicycles, probably.

7. Because You Are Told To. Your poster demands it of you; your greetings card demands it of you; your t-shirt demands it of you; your mug demands it of you; the coaster on which your mug sits demands it of you; your key ring demands it of you; your fridge magnet demands it of you; your shopping bag demands it of you; your deckchair demands it of you; your cuff-links demand it of you; your sticking-plasters demand it of you; your tea-towel demands it of you; your chocolate bar demands it of you; your flight-bag demands it of you; your apron demands it of you; your rug demands it of you. It’s bloody everywhere. Seriously, if one more person buys me anything else that says “Keep Calm And Carry On” on it, I won’t be held responsible for my actions. I will freak out and stop.

July 29, 2010