Tag: ad

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
7 Reasons According To Them

Everywhere you go, celebrities are endorsing something or other. Now it’s our turn.*

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"7 Reasons wanted to stop me. They failed. Now I'm going to crush them in my giant hand."

"We will be judged by 7 Reasons. When they want to inflict great pain on the world they will stop writing."

"I've bought a komodo dragon, a cross-eyed opossum, a Kim Jong Il and I've urinated in a policeman's helmet. Thank you 7 Reasons."

"I adore 7 Reasons; it's an absolute joy to read every day. It's an essential lifestyle guide that has taught me so much about cats and biscuits. Both of the team seem lovely, but I especially like the tall, grumpy one with the spell-check facility. And thanks to the other one, I'm planning a trip to Whitstable."

"I'm a devotee of 7 Reasons and can categorically state that it is NOT a cult. Not even close."

"The 7 Reasons Marc Fearns picture book gets me hyped."

"I read 7 Reasons and now I'd give my right arm to beat the French. At anything."

*Only words and pictures have been altered and fabricated in the making of this post. Everything else is real.

June 5, 2011
7 Reasons That The UK Should Ban Carlsberg

1. Retaliation. Relations between the UK and Denmark have long been difficult.   From the eighth to the eleventh centuries they invaded us; in the nineteenth century we confiscated their navy, and in the twenty-first century they sent Nicklas Bendtner to lumber around our football fields and sulk like a moon-faced twelve year old girl. A giant moon-faced twelve year old girl. Now, however, they’ve gone too far. They’ve banned that quintessentially British spreadable yeast extract, Marmite from their country. The time to act is now and we need to ban something in return. We can’t ban bacon, because half of the 7 Reasons team will cry and we can’t ban Lego for exactly the same reason. The only thing left is Carlsberg.

2. Strength. The standard Carlsberg is an okay and quite drinkable lager (for a mass-manufactured one). Sadly, however, we don’t get that in the UK. We get an insipid watery thing brewed specially for us. It’s horrible and pointless. If you wanted to get drunk, you’d have to consume so much of it that your bladder would swell to the size of a small hatchback before you felt the teeniest bit light-headed. And that’s the moment that your small hatchback would probably be involved in an accident. With a boat.

3. Taste. The flavour of the UK Carlsberg lager is…well…in there somewhere. You can definitely tell that you’re drinking something that was once in the same country as some malt and some hops. Briefly. But going on an epic search to find the flavour in the beverage that you’re drinking is frustrating and pointless. And we already have a drink like it in the UK, it’s called water. It’s cheaper (unless you’re a family with a meter) and you don’t have to go out and buy it, it’s already there in your own home; in the taps. And it might already have been drunk by a celebrity like Elton John or Ryan Giggs, so it carries a greater celebrity cachet.

4. It Comes In A Green Tin. And I don’t like green tins. I just don’t. Never have, never will. I’m perfectly within my rights to dislike green tins and it’s not at all irrational. After all, we live in a country where it’s considered perfectly normal behaviour to dislike otherwise perfectly good people because of what vehicle they choose to commute in/on, what football team they support and the brand of shoe they choose to wear. So my hatred of green tins is far more rational than the cultural norm. Let’s get rid of the little green tins.

5. Because It’s Bad For You. Marmite was banned from Denmark because it contains additives: It’s unnaturally potent. But are the parks and playgrounds and municipal seating areas of Copenhagen littered with – often apparently lifeless – ruddy-faced and dishevelled men clutching half full* jars of Marmite in their limp, grimy hands? No. Those men are over in the UK, clutching cans of Carlsberg Special Brew**.    Because that too is unnaturally potent and unlike Marmite, which is good for you, it seems to be quite detrimental to the health.

6. Because They Keep The Good Stuff To Themselves. For Carlsberg make an amazing beer: a strong, rich, malty lager-beer with brilliant sharp hoppy notes. It’s called Elephant – named after one of the gates to their Copenhagen brewery – and can I get hold of it in the UK? Can I buggery. It would be easier to get hold of an actual elephant, and possibly more fun too. I could keep it in the garden and train it to stand on my next-door-neighbour’s car. If we banned Carlsberg, my frustrating and usually fruitless search for Elephant would come to an end.

7. Because Of The Adverts. Carlsberg’s advertising is brilliant. It’s high-budget, has consistently great production values and is usually very, very memorable.   But if we have to suffer every last epically dull and unoriginal bore mindlessly parroting, “Carlsberg don’t do *****(those asterisks are to suggest blankness, we’re not subject to a superinjunction)…but if they did….”, every time they see something they’re enthused by, because they believe it passes for original wit, that’s too high a price to pay for it. Let’s ban Carlsberg: We’d get revenge, lose crap beer, drink more water, rid ourselves of green tins, have healthier tramps and I’d be able to ride an elephant to the pub, where I wouldn’t be tempted to punch a dullard. You know it makes sense. Sort of.

*Or half empty, you decide.

**As manufactured by Chaka Khan.

May 25, 2011
It’s That SPAM Again

It’s Sunday today, so we’ve taken our traditional day away from the reasoning-mine and, as they are often wont to do, our thoughts have turned to food. Now, some time back we brought you what we considered to be the ultimate SPAM recipe – Planked SPAM – but now we’ve unearthed something that has easily trumped Planked SPAM and knocked it into a cocked hat. Whatever that means. Brace yourself! It’s…

Yes, it’s SPAM ‘n’ Beans which is, apparently, exactly right for Saturday night (which is rather a shame as I took my wife for cocktails and to a really good concert in Northern Europe’s largest Gothic Cathedral last night (if only I’d seen this first)). It seems delightfully simple to cook, consisting as it does of two ingredients; SPAM and baked beans. Simply place slices of SPAM in baked beans and cook them on the hob, then serve in some sort of dirty brown pot with congealed sauce oozing over the side. Who wouldn’t be overjoyed to be served this? It seems that the simplest recipes are often the most delicious.*

*Sadly I’m the member of the 7 Reasons team that doesn’t eat meat and – as SPAM is a distant relative of meat – I can’t try it myself. Any readers care to give it a go?**

**7 Reasons will be back tomorrow, without any tummy trouble whatsoever.

May 8, 2011
7 Reasons To Stone The Crows

1. Farmers. I have never been a farmer, lacking as I do the necessary sheepdog and accompanying whistle. I imagine, though, it must be tough work. Tiring work. Frustrating work. Especially if you have ploughed your field and sowed the seed only to see a flock of crows engulf the scene. It’s at this point when you have a choice. Allow them to eat your livelihood or revert to the stones. Whichever you choose, you also need to invest in a better scarecrow. *

2. Rivalry. If you live in the city of Adelaide, Australia, you may well support Port Adelaide Football Club in the AFL. In doing so you immediately have a rival. They are across town and are called the Adelaide Crows. You may take exception to defeat at the hands of your nemesis and wish to take matters into your own hands. To, you know, bring some pride back to your end of town.*

3. Attack. Picture the scene. You are walking along the street, minding your own business, when an armoured vehicle rocks up next to you with crows on its roof. And when I say crows, I mean a Common Remotely Operated Weapon Station. You know, one of those things that you can mount a machine gun on and then operate from the comfort and security of the driver’s seat. If this happens you need to get prepared. If he starts firing you need to use whatever means you can to fight back. And chucking stones at the crows might be your only hope. Good luck.*

4. Words. The collective noun for crows is a murder and, if we take that as some sort of corrupted historical instruction, we should be killing them. Now, shooting them would probably be the best way to do this but, as most of the 7 Reasons readership is based in the UK, there probably aren’t that many gun-owners among us. This would leave us furiously hurling bullets at them (which would be expensive) or desperately searching for alternate methods of killing them. Though they live in trees and rope is in plentiful supply from chandlers all around our island nation, hanging them isn’t practical as crows can defy gravity. Basically they’d just flutter about for a bit then fly back to the branch we’d hanged them from so, in essence, we’d just be tying crows to trees. Where they live anyway. This really leaves stoning as the only viable option.

5. Australia. In Australia, where the phrase stone the crows is said to have originated – or should that be aboriginated – the crows eat lambs. That’s right, lambs. Now I haven’t been too close to Australian lambs, but they seem like quite sizeable creatures to me. And frankly, if I lived in an upside-down land where large black birds were capable of swooping up from the sky below me and killing animals that are the size of human babies (which apparently have enough to fear from dingoes over there as it is), I’d be ready to stone them too. Or I’d go even further and rock them. What’s more, being English, my throws would have a better chance of hitting them than the natives’ efforts.***

6. Do The Right Thing. Crows are the proper animal to stone. I – before I corrected a spelling mistake – spent an earlier paragraph exhorting you, the reader, to stone the cows. But cows are definitely not an animal that you should be stoning. They’re large – surprisingly fast – and would probably become quite cross if you were to hurl stones at them. Not to mention the possibility of being shot by a furious and ruddy-faced farmer. Stoning cows is wrong. Stoning crows is right.

7. Kia-Ora. Remember the Kia-Ora advert where crows impersonate a hobo-child’s dog to relieve him of his Kia-Ora, despite his protestations that it’s too orangey for them? You’ll know if you’ve seen it, the music will still be reverberating round your head over twenty-five years later ready to surface when you least expect it to. Or want it to. Which is never.

Enjoy!

And now we all probably want to stone the crows.

*7 Reasons would like to point out that we do not condone the stoning of crows whether they be real crows, the Adelaide Crows or the Common Remotely Operated Weapon Station.**

**No, on second thoughts, fuck them. Stone away.

***We can probably keep this up until the next Ashes series in 2013.

January 17, 2011
7 Reasons That The Correct Font is Important

Fonts: Sometimes we don’t pay enough attention to them, but choosing the correct one is vital for your project; be it a full blown advertising campaign, a sign for your office, a Christmas card or a publicity photo. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Playfulness. Kristen is a lovely, whimsical, childlike font which, when used correctly, imbues the work with a sense of playfulness and naivety. When used incorrectly however, it is not as effective:

The message Drive to the East was intended as a call to invasion and conquest. This poster may still encourage people to drive East, but now they’ll be doing it in Smart cars whilst drinking Innocent smoothies and listening to Death Cab For Cutie. The Kristen font is too jaunty for Hitler.

2. Menace. Similarly, Fraktur is a font associated with much Nazi propaganda and many of their legal notices. When used in this context however, it rather blurs the message:

Even the sad face can’t rescue this one. The font exudes menace and it makes it appear more of a threat than an appeal: That if you don’t give them money, ranks of jack-booted stormtroopers will goose-step on poor Flopsy. :’-( Still quite an effective message though.

3. Cool. Some fonts – Sidewalk in this instance – are rather cool and edgy and, when used sparingly, can really make an impact.

When making a sign for the office kitchen though, they tend to work less well. The thoughts of the users of the office kitchen will probably range from, “What in god’s name is that abomination on the wall?!” to, “Wow! Emma’s like the coolest person ever to have put up a sniffy notice about washing teacups. Ever.”

4. Minimalism. The moon: A cold, empty, stark place which requires an appropriately minimal font and, when putting together an article on whether man will return to the moon, it’s important to use one. And not this:

French Script really isn’t doing this picture any favours. It’s over-elaborate, cluttered, and just not spacey enough. And it’s French. They’ve never been to the moon. They rarely go as far as Sussex.

5. Seasonality. Christmas: Evocative of roaring fires, presents, carol singing, peace, goodwill and happy families spending quality time together at home.

But when your Christmas card features the Digital Readout Thick Upright font, you introduce the spectre of The Terminator into the traditional family Christmas, and that doesn’t seem like it will go well. Even if he does bring presents from the future.

6. Clarity. Clean crisp fonts such as Gill Sans exude class. With a plain, unfussy font your carefully chosen words are showcased to their best advantage. The BBC use Gill Sans, and the famous Volkswagen Lemon advert used a similar font. Sometimes though, it’s not a good idea to go minimal:

Because the reader’s attention is drawn to every error and mad utterance in your crazed internet rant. And yes, I did cut and paste this from a comment on one of our posts. Answers on a postcard?

7. Gasp! There’s a lot of snobbery around the use of MS Comic Sans. And many perfectly reasonable people say that it should never, ever be used; there are websites and Facebook groups that campaign against it. But they’re wrong. Because I’ve found a use for it:

You can use it to take perfectly good, artfully shot publicity photos, and make them funnier. I’m so happy with this one that I’m not even going to charge for it. Finally, a use for Comic Sans.

October 26, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: A Recipe

It’s Russian Roulette Sunday again (and ordinary Sunday too) and we’ve realised something: We’ve never given our readers a recipe before. We’ve requested them when under pressure; we’ve offered general lifestyle advice on how to do food correctly; and on how food should be consumed, but we’ve never been specific about how to prepare it. Until now.

This isn’t our own recipe, it’s one that we stumbled across on the internet while doing something else. But it’s safe to say that we were amazed by it. Flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. It’s a perfectly genuine recipe that features in an advert for the main ingredient and we haven’t in any way made it up.

In the past, we may have created and altered posters and passed them off as genuine, but we did that because we didn’t think that anyone would believe us, and we certainly didn’t imagine that thousands of people around the world would download those posters, presumably to use in essays and school projects. In fact, we feel fairly confident that, as World War II recedes further into history, and internet content becomes ever-more readily-accepted, those posters will come to be seen as genuine, and we – in our usual hapless manner – will have inadvertently caused a revision of history. We’re actually dreading the day that one of our posters turns up in a newspaper, or a book. Anyway, we’ve learned our lesson, and this poster is categorically not one of our creations.

You’re probably feeling a little peckish by now so, Ladies and Gentlemen, discerning readers of 7 Reasons (.org), we present to you, without any further ado…Planked SPAM.

Now, to some people, a meal consisting of SPAM on a plank might seem a little unconventional or unappetising, but rest assured: When you unveil this culinary master-stroke with a flourish, it will be “…greeted with cheers” by your jubilant dinner-guests. The advert says so, so it must be true. We’re not sure what wood the plank should be made from, though pine would probably be nice and fragrant, and less tough than oak. But you can experiment with your own planks, we wouldn’t want to ruin the fun. Let us know how you get on.

September 26, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Advertising Take II

Hi! Marc here again. Last week, as you may recall, we blew our entire advertising budget on a film by Pearl & Dean. To be honest, we were a bit disappointed by it. We were so disappointed, in fact, that we thought we could probably do better ourselves. We reasoned that with my capacity for historical perspective and Jon’s talent for understatement and his innate modesty, it wouldn’t be too difficult to put together a simple and cheap – yet memorable – advert for our website. Here it is:

7 Reasons Advert II

So, in conclusion, please send donations to:

The 7 Reasons Advertising Fund

7 Reasons Towers

London

W12 7RJ

May 9, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday : Advertising

Hi, Marc here. Happy Sunday. At 7 Reasons we’re very serious about bringing a new audience to our website and we work very hard to spread the word about it. We don’t have much of an advertising budget though – which is why we’re always delighted when people retweet our work and use the Share buttons – but we thought that, as we’ve already got our own money invested in 7 Reasons, we really should splash out a bit on advertising. Now we couldn’t afford much but we reasoned (that’s our speciality) that with the global economic downturn, and Jon’s contacts in the advertising business, we should be able to find someone that could professionally put together an advert to suit our budget. The guys that made it haven’t worked for a while, so they were delighted to help. Here’s what they came up with.

7 Reasons Pearl & Dean Advert

So, to summarise, please keep retweeting and using the Share buttons. Thanks.

May 2, 2010
7 Reasons Australians Shouldn’t Make Television

1. The Weather. It must be quite easy to present the weather in Australia, it’s always “nice” there, so you probably don’t have to be too bright to do it. That would explain this weatherman being outwitted by a pelican then.

2. Wipeout Australia. In Britain, we have Total Wipeout, a programme in which pudgy, potato-faced middle-managers from Droitwich lumber around a ridiculous assault course. Wipeout Australia uses the same course, except everything is harder and the machines go at about five times the speed. The people they send around don’t seem any leaner or sportier though, that wouldn’t be any fun.

3. Skippy. In Britain in the ’60s, men whistled at attractive young women in mini-skirts. In Australia in the ’60s, they whistled at kangaroos. Still, they seem quite happy.

4. Advert. Halfway through, so it’s time for a break. Would you like one of these? It’s undetectable, you know.

5. Soaps. The bush, mushrooms, a mysterious pig, a flaming hand – it has to be a soap opera. Obvious, really.

6. Marriage. This sort of thing never happened on Richard and Judy.

7. The dream. Okay, you knew it had to turn up somewhere didn’t you? That classic Neighbours dream sequence which came out of left-field and astonished the audience. No, not that one, this one. The accents are spot on, by the way.

Okay, it’s time for an admission. I was wrong. All of this stuff is awful, yet somehow brilliant. I’ve had so much fun putting this post together that I’ve become convinced that Australians should make more television – perhaps even all of it. As long as I don’t have to watch Paul Hogan again I’d be quite happy. I might even buy a hairpiece.

March 2, 2010