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.
In the 1930s it was decided (presumably by purveyors of gifts) that there weren’t enough things associated with anniversaries and a more comprehensive anniversary gift list was created. Fortunately for contemporary celebrants of anniversaries, since then the list has been modernised. This is no bad thing as I’ve seen a copy of the original list. Here are seven reasons that it must have been terrible to celebrate your anniversary in the 1930s.
1. Wood. On the original list, the fifth anniversary is wood. This is rather fitting for the era because, after five long years of marriage, the celebration of their fifth wedding anniversary may well have been one of the last occasions that a married couple got wood. Rather mean to remind them of that though.
2. Willow/Copper. The ninth anniversary is a terrifying prospect. According to the BBC (they who must be believed), after nine years you get the willow/copper anniversary. The only feasible combination of willow and copper that comes to my mind is a policeman with a cane. Imagine your surprise and delight when you sit down with your wife and she says, “Happy anniversary darling, here’s a rozzer to beat you with a stick.” That doesn’t sound like too much fun to me. Perhaps it was more fun back then.
3. Aluminium/Tin. Times were clearly hard in the ‘30s and though your tenth anniversary present would be an improvement on the previous year’s beating, it wouldn’t be much of one as you’re likely to be presented with something in a tin or in an aluminium can. This can mean only one thing: food. But in the 1930s people didn’t have normal food, they had weird food: tins of tongue; tins of luncheon meat; tins of potatoes. Is being presented with a tin of tongue even any better than being beaten by a policeman? Well, should you have had your anniversary in the 1930s, you’d be in a great position to judge.
4. Ivory. After fourteen years of wedded bliss – assuming you’d recuperated from your beating by the forces of law and order five years previously and eating your tongue the following year – it was time for the real presents to begin. For your fourteenth anniversary, you could have expected to receive something without which no home is complete; a bit of an elephant. Obviously your gift wouldn’t be in the form of a bit of an elephant, it would be a bit of one of those useless lumbering creatures from the other side of the world turned into something far more practical, like a letter-opener or a cruet set.
5. China. For your twentieth anniversary you would have received the best gift of all, after which all other anniversary presents would come as an anticlimax. For your twentieth anniversary you could expect to receive the nation of China. Now China back then was war-ravaged and in the economic doldrums, rather than being the titan that it is now, but still, a whole country is an impressive gift. All anniversaries after the twentieth would be a huge disappointment.
6. Pearl/Ivory. After thirty years, while modern couples are receiving their first diamonds, couples using the traditional anniversary list are in for a rare treat. They can expect to relive that fondly remembered fourteenth anniversary on which they received a bit of an elephant only now, as if the bit of an elephant weren’t enough of a treat, they can expect it to be augmented by a bit of calcium carbonate that had been stolen from a fish. Yay!
7. Blue Sapphire. After sixty-five years of marriage, the compilers of the list clearly believe that senility will have kicked in because you’re going to get a sapphire again, but this time it’s going to be a blue one (which will be so much better than the beige one you got for your 45th). “Look darling”, your husband will bellow into your ear trumpet, “I bought you a blue sapphire…it’s blue!”. “Well, fancy” you’ll respond, “a blue sapphire. Well I never! Are these my feet?”
And now, I have a confession to make: tomorrow is my wedding anniversary (and my wife’s). I’m not going to tell you which one, but you might be able to guess, as this is what I’ve got her. Feel free to wish me luck!
On 12th April 1961, Yuri Gagarin became the first man in space. To celebrate his achievement there are a variety of events happening all over the world, but here at 7 Reasons we thought we’d give him our own homage.
1. You’re Hired! Way before Mark Burnett invented The Apprentice, Sergei Korolev invented the The Spaceman. It wasn’t actually called that, but it should have been. The premise of The Spaceman was simple, find the world’s first spaceman. After weeks of tasks – that may or may not have included filming an advert for a brand of CCCP cereal – the final came down to a battle between Yuri Gagarin and Gherman Titov. Right up until the last minute it looked liked Titov was going to get the nod. Then Korolev found out Titov was the son of a teacher and Gagarin was the son of a peasant. The decision was made. One wonders why he didn’t read the applications properly at the beginning. He could have saved a lot of bother.
2. Infinity And Beyond! Due to the length of time The Spaceman would have to spend alone in his shuttle, part of the training process included long stays in an isolation chamber. When each cosmonaut left the chamber they were asked what they did. Titov recited poetry, Popovich sang Ukraniane folk songs, the rest thought about their past. It was only Gagarin who thought of the future. Korolev liked this. He wanted a man who thought he would come back. (Do bear in mind that this was a good few years before the introduction of iPhones and Angry Birds).
3. Clothing. Look what he’s wearing! Just look! Yuri Gagarin went around the earth in a thin orange jump suit! I wear more protective clothing when I use the hob.
4. Humour. Throughout his flight, Gagarin referred to Korolev as ‘Dawn’. What a brilliant way of getting back at the guy who has made you risk your life. In every single transcript of the flight it’s full of Gagarin talking to this mystery character called Dawn. In fairness to Korolev he played along. To be honest, I think they were flirting by the end.
5. Polite. Can you imagine John Terry walking into a press conference and giving the journalists a standing ovation? I doubt it. But that’s exactly what Gagarin did when he attended a British press conference in July 1961. He also brought them flowers. What a nice chap.
6. The Spacewoman. Seeing his new found popularity as an opportunity, Gagarin began his own search to find a woman to send into space. As you can see, there were plenty of candidates. Personally I’d have gone for the woman in the top right hand corner. She looks like she could do with some G-forces.*
7. Serious. At 7 Reasons we don’t like doing serious very often. Serious isn’t funny. Just for today though, I am. I urge you to watch some of the videos here, spend 100 minutes watching this and following as-live coverage of the flight on twitter. It’s all fascinating. Really, really fascinating.**
*This reason may or may not be true.
**I’ve spent so long writing this that Gagarin’s already parachuting into a Russian field. Sorry about that. Worth playing catch up though.
The story of how 7 Reasons formed is not your traditional one. We won’t go into great detail other than to say we met because we were both in a cult. But don’t worry, this cult didn’t involve righteous killing or licking frozen chickens. Anything but. This cult was a friendly one. A cult where American architects sent dragons to newsreaders and people across the land turned the ferret gold. I am sure you are now seeing the light, but if you are still slightly unsure here are seven more reasons to join that cult.
Richard Bacon Was A Cultish Leader
1. New People. A cult is different from exclusive clubs such as The Masons because it is open to all. As a result you will meet a rich and diverse group of individuals from all walks of life. Plumbers, writers, lawyers, singers, doctors, engineers, buskers, perverts. You’ll meet the lot. And because you leave all your prejudices at the door when you enter the cult, you’ll form a bond with each and everyone of them. The most hardened Tory will find joy in conversing with the most radical Socialist. Millwall supporters will appear fluffy and cute. Formerly disgraced Blue Peter presenters will be forgiven. And that sort of thing only ever happens in a cult.
2. Opportunity. Unlike your place of work, there is no hierarchy in a cult. Or, if there is, you can very easily destroy it. You can be anyone you want to be in a cult. You can be a wallflower if you wish, or you can be a leader of men. And women. No one minds. If you are the type of man who has access to both foil and a cat (Marc) you may wish to see if one will walk over the other. But what if you don’t? What if you don’t have foil? Or a cat? What if you are a person in one of those moods and fancies taking the mick out of your leader (Jon)? Well you can do that too. And whats-more, whichever route you choose, whatever you decide to do, you will be celebrated. You will be held in high esteem. You may well start a website.
3. Reward. When you have gone out of your way to entertain those amongst your cult, it is nice to be rewarded. And nothing rewards quite like a cult. Apart from the adulation and admiration from those around you, you may also receive a badge. Or a small motorbike. But it’s usually a badge. And when I say a badge, I don’t just mean a badge, well, obviously I do, because it is a badge, but it’s also more than that. It’s more than a badge. It’s what the badge stands for. It doesn’t just say, ‘Hey, I’m in a cult’, it says, ‘Hey, I’m part of a cult’. And that’s, you know, pretty damn special.
4. Help. Whether you are at school trying to write your Personal Statement or in lying in bed ill, the cult is there to help you. Admittedly, you might not get it right all the time. All your advice may just confuse the lad and mean he misses out on that place at Cambridge University, but no one can accuse you of not trying. For all your failures, you will have hundreds of successes. Like I said earlier, the cult we were in helped turn the ferret gold. But while that was great, it is more the fact that people were there to help turn the ferret gold than the actual turning. And it was the ferret himself who first shared these sentiments. He was right.
5. Meaning. It is very easy to wander along in life, working nine to five and waiting for the weekend. There is nothing wrong with that, but joining a cult will give your life purpose. It’ll mean something to you and, more importantly, you’ll mean something to the cult. It’ll give you direction and hope and love. And let’s face it, there is very little direction, hope and love out there at the moment. Your work isn’t going to give it to you, so why not give the cult a chance?
6. Outside. When you join a cult, you join in trepidation. This is only natural. A cult, after all, has a reputation for being dark and evil and thus it is perfectly understandable if you are initially nervous. No one enters thinking they may leave with a new life. But many do. Many leave with new friends. Some leave with new girlfriends or boyfriends or both. Others leave with ideas. The rest just go to sleep. No one thought this would happen when they joined. No one expected their life to change. But it can. It does. Sure, not all friendships and relationships last, that’s life, but for a moment in time they were very real. And it was the cult that gave you that happiness. Without it, it would never have happened. Obviously, some relationships do last. Like 7 Reasons. A monster that will never be slayed.
7. Death. Eventually, sometimes for reasons outside of your control, your cult will die. You will attend the funeral (or listen to it on the radio) and be filled with deep sadness. But when you come to reflect, you realise the cult hasn’t really died. You just can’t listen to it on BBC Radio 5 Live anymore. It still lives though. In your heart. And on YouTube. You still have the memories of your leader being portrayed as Hitler. You can still listen to the music of the cult’s house band and indeed of the one you may well call T He Digger. You still have the vision of chair legs being broken by that woman who stood on a plinth for a couple of weeks. You still remember that moment when you were denied from asking Chris Evans whether his gingerness had been a help or hindrance. And these thoughts will stay with you forever. No one can take them away from you. And you’ll always be thankful that you could never get to sleep before 00:30.
So, if there is one thing you should spread this Christmas season, it is the joy of the cult.
Thankyou. Jonathan Lee, in the lounge, with his badge.
Today marks the 30th anniversary of John Lennon’s death. And to celebrate we take an irreverent look at some of his finest work. If you are easily offended by lyric assassination, please walk away now.
The Young Lembit Opik
1. Imagine – “Imagine there’s no heaven, it’s easy if you try. No hell below us, above us only sky.” Yep, I can imagine there is no heaven. I have replaced the ‘Heaven’ sign above the pearly gates with one for Lidl. I’m not as keen to get there now. As for imagining there is no hell below us, I can go one better. I can see a carpet. But that’s why Lennon was a philosopher and I am not. His version is much better than my, ‘Imagine there’s a Lidl, it’s painful if you try. A carpet down below me, above me a ceiling.’ It lacks both meaning and rhythm.
2. I Am The Walrus – “I am he as you are he as you are me, and we are all together.” Seriously, sometimes Lennon was so in-tune with the world around him, that he is far too intellectual for me. I mean, this goes straight over my head. Something about walruses. And apparently he was as much of a walrus as I am. Which is news to me. But I guess that’s philosophy for you. It should always tell you something you don’t know. It should always get you thinking differently. Otherwise what is the point in it? You may as well go down the pub and play darts.
3. Norwegian Wood (The Bird Has Flown) – “She asked me to stay and she told me to sit anywhere, so I looked around and I noticed there wasn’t a chair.” I’m not quite sure if this is a metaphor for ‘don’t go out with stupid women’ or this particular lady had just been burgled. And that, I suppose, is philosophy again. It takes a certain amount of intelligence and time to work out exactly what is meant. And I have neither.
4. All You Need Is Love – “There’s nothing you can do that can’t be done.” Wow. This guy just blows my mind. How true is this?! You can’t make a cup of tea if you can’t make a cup of tea can you?! But if you can make a cup of tea then you can make a cup of tea! Extraordinary. Extra-bloody-ordinary!
5. Eight Days A Week – “Eight days a week I love you, eight days a week is not enough to show I care.” It’s very true. There are some people out there you love 110%. There are some people you would give 11 out of 10. For these people, they surely live in an eight day week world. For the rest of us, we’ll remain in our normal seven day week world, loving people 100% and giving their risotto 10 out of 10. We also won’t sound patronising. But that’s because we’re not philosophers.
6. Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds – “Newspaper taxis appear on the shore, waiting to take you away. Climb in the back with your head in the clouds, and you’re gone.” I don’t think anyone can disagree with this. If you are seeing newspaper taxis on the shore, then you are almost certainly gone. You may also want to work out what you’re actually doing in the sea. If you are on a dustbin lid, you probably want to think about getting rescued. Unless you are on a dustbin lid on a cruise liner. In which case, I don’t want to know you. You’re weird.
7. Strawberry Fields Forever – “Living is easy with eyes closed, misunderstanding all you see.” Quite right. Just shut your eyes. Actually, open them again, finish reading this, and then shut them. When you shut your eyes you can see different coloured shapes floating around. And just how how often are these misunderstood? I often think I can see a T-Rex humping a sheep. I can’t. They’re just shapes. According to the psychiatrist.
As I am sure all you bear aficionados are aware, today marks Rupert Bear’s 90th Birthday. Even if you don’t regularly read his adventures in the Daily Express – and let’s be honest, that’s all of us – you should raise a glass in his name. Or, at the very least, don’t go on about how much you love Paddington Bear. It’s called respect.
1. Loyalty. In case you are wondering why I mentioned the Daily Express above, it’s because Rupert was created for the paper in 1920. The aim? To increase sales. Did it work? Wikipedia doesn’t say. And I can’t be bothered to do that much research. What I did research though is that Rupert has outlasted nineteen Daily Express editors. Nineteen! That’s quite a lot. On any other day it I’d have rounded it up to 20. But that’s nineteen different people who have given up on the paper. Rupert hasn’t given up once. He’s there, everyday, trying to increase sales. And that has to be applauded. Even if it is the Daily Express.
2. Fashion. Sadly for the world, I wasn’t around in 1920, but I would be very surprised if Rupert’s choice of attire matched the fashion of the day. A red jumper, white shoes and matching yellow-checked trousers and scarf? It’s unlikely, isn’t it? But that’s just one reason why Rupert should be celebrated. He was a bit of a maverick. He was a trend-setter. Whether the trend comes to fruition in my lifetime, who knows, but one day, everyone will be dressing like Rupert.
3. Respect. Rupert has and continues to spend many-a-day in the presence of his friends. The trusty and originally named Bill Badger. The stodgy Podgy Pig. The delectable Edward Trunk*. And my personal favourites, Ming The Dragon and Pong-Ping The Pekingese. And yet, despite chewing the fat with them for the best part of century, not once has Rupert ever uttered the immortal line, ‘Have you ever heard of deed-poll?’
4. Role Model. While Rupert’s main rivals for our affections have tragic and cliched characteristics, Rupert was the real deal. Take Winnie The Pooh for instance. Ignoring the fact that he looks cuddly, what have you got? A honey-monster who has a habit of forgetting to wear trousers. Hardly inspiring. And then we have Paddington Bear. An immigrant from Peru whose idea of helping the economy is to create a marmalade deficit. Not the role models our children need. Rupert on the other hand is everything a bear should be. Clever, loyal, adventurous and trousered.
6. He Defied Hitler. Not even a war could stop Rupert. And I am not talking about a silly, little war. I am talking about World War II. Despite the fact that there was a severe paper shortage – we needed it for planes – Rupert still got an annual out and onto the shelves every year throughout the conflict. Along with Churchill sticking two fingers up, Rupert getting his annual out epitomised Britain’s approach to the war. We were never going to be beaten. And we were going to read tales of a bear going on an underwater mission in the process.
7. Alternatives. Look, it’s only right that you should celebrate one 90th Anniversary in 2010 and if you’re not going to choose Rupert to congratulate then it’s going to have to be the Bangor Operatic Society. Make the right decision.
*Edward Trunk was an elephant. Clever.
**This might cause nightmares. Or daymares. Just don’t smash your computer. You’ll regret it tomorrow.
