Tag: Army

7 Reasons That James Blunt Must Be Stopped

You may agree with Dave Cameron; you may follow Nick Thing; you may be a supporter of Mad Elliband; you may be a devotee of that Scottish man with a name like a fish. It doesn’t matter, because there’s one cause that everyone must unite behind: Stopping James Blunt. And be in no doubt whatsoever, James Blunt must be stopped. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Ubiquity. He’s bloody everywhere. On everything. I can’t turn on my television or my radio at the moment without James Blunt being on it. I can’t visit websites – though I’m aware I’m now partially responsible for this – or open newspapers (yes, newspapers, those paper things from the past that existed before this screen in front of you with these words on. He’s in them too) without seeing or hearing him. James Blunt has – in the last fortnight – achieved total, absolute, all-permeating multi-platform media omnipresence. He’s in a magazine somewhere near me right now. And near you. In fact he’s in all of the magazines. Everywhere. All over the place. Being James Blunt.

2. He’s Becoming Weirder. Remember when Tom Cruise seemed normal? No? Well some of us have long memories and he did once. Before he split up with Penelope Cruz; before he started jumping up and down on Oprah’s sofa; before he began espousing odd birthing techniques, Tom Cruise didn’t seem all that weird. But he does now. And the same thing is happening to James Blunt. He used to look and seem relatively at one with the world, but the more I see him, and the more I see him respond to external stimuli (interviews, conversation etc) by grinning inanely and then grinning inanely some more, the more he reminds me of Tom Cruise. Which is the slippery slope to weirdness.

3. His Hair. Have you seen his hair? I’m about to skirt the accepted boundaries of heterosexuality right here and right now, but I don’t care; because James Blunt’s hair used to be lovely. Absolutely fucking lovely. A dark, lustrous, bounteous, luxuriant barnet; a follicular paragon; a mane to rival the legendary tresses of both Samson and Aniston, but have you seen it recently? When he appeared on Have I Got News For You (and Never Mind The Buzzcocks and Daybreak and The One Show and BBC Breakfast and T4 and Something For The Weekend and London Tonight and The Graham Norton Show) it looked like he’d painted a brillo pad orange and stuck it down to his head. I don’t know how this is happening to his hair or why it’s happening; but what if it’s catching? What if it happens to my hair?! Or yours?

Seriously. What has happened here and is it contagious?

4. The Bath. And then last night it all became even stranger. Because, when I was listening to a politics programme on BBC Radio 5Live in the bath (on a rare occasion that it wasn’t full of champagne and dancing girls), they announced that they were about to interview James Blunt. Oh God, I thought. I’m trapped. I’ve just put on my facial mud (for MEN) and now I’m going to be stuck in the bath for twenty minutes listening to James Blunt…again. And I was. And I couldn’t even put my head under the water to cover my ears or to drown myself because of the mud. So I had to listen. And listen I did. I listened to James Blunt recount the time that he disobeyed orders from his commanders in Kosovo and didn’t attack the Russians, thus averting a massive East-West conflict. That’s right, James Blunt saved us from World War III. And while, at the bottom of my heart, I knew that not having a third world war was probably a good and desirable thing, I couldn’t help thinking that if we’d had a third world war, James Blunt would never have been allowed to leave the army and we’d never have had to listen to his music, and he wouldn’t be bloody everywhere; all over the place; even in my bath.

5. The Song. And sure enough, as I lay there unable to escape from James Blunt: Saviour of the World, they played the song. The same song that I’ve heard everywhere, every time that James Blunt has appeared over the last fortnight: You’re Beautiful. The one James Blunt song that I know, apparently the one James Blunt song that everyone knows. There are others, sure, but can you name them? No, and I can’t either. I, a musical man with an enviable collection of music; a man for whom music has been a passion for his entire life. A man who owns all four Electrelane studio albums, and has most of the Os Mutantes albums on original vinyl. I can’t name more than one James Blunt song and neither can anyone else except his fans, and even they can’t do it with any certainty. And having heard it sodding everywhere for the past fortnight (even the Sesame Street version) it came as a blessed relief later on, to turn the television, the computer and the radio off knowing that I would escape from it. And then my wife started humming the bloody thing (having presumably absorbed it through some sort of osmosis) and, while I couldn’t help but agree with her sentiments, it was still the same damned song…again. But off key.

6. Then There’s His Name. James Blunt’s name is James Blunt. That’s right: James Blunt. And you might think to a humourist, that it would offer all manner of potential, but it doesn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact. Because it rhymes with the one word in the English language that you can never, ever use without losing the sympathy of your reader. If he were called James Bluck, James Block, James Blank, James Blick, James Blit, James Bliss, James Blits, or James Brance I might conceivably be able to make fun of him in rhyme. But I can’t. Because his name is Blunt. And do know what’s really annoying about it? It isn’t even his real name. He changed it. His original name is Blount: Pronounced Blunt.

7. And This Is The Worst Part. He seems like a nice guy. A man who, despite being everywhere with his one song irritating the hell out of you, me and all those other people standing about and clogging the pavements, actually seems to have substance. A man who has a mind of his own and is no mere vacuous, avaricious, chancer like many contemporary popular musicians. A man who has served his country in combat and has come out of the experience intact and has forged a successful post-army life for himself; sadly in contrast to many ex-servicemen who often don’t get the support that they deserve and that we owe them. A man who goes back and performs concerts for the troops and is a vociferous advocate of, and fundraiser for, Médecins Sans Frontières. And that makes criticism of him hard. And it probably makes me look like a bit of a count. But please, for the love of god, James. Stop. Enough. We all know we’re beautiful and we need a break now.

November 15, 2010
7 Reasons the Anglo-Franco Defence Agreement is a Good Idea

Yesterday, at 7 Reasons (.org) we ran a post entitled 7 Reasons The Anglo-Franco Defence Agreement Is A Bad Idea. I discovered that we had done so while I was eating my breakfast, and it’s fair to say that I was quite stunned. In fact I, the Jacques Tati obsessed, Voltaire-reading, coffee-guzzling half of the 7 Reasons team (the one with the French name), almost choked on my croissant. “A bad idea?!” I exclaimed in a voice so high that it was only audible to very small dogs, “but it’s a brilliant idea!” And it is. Here are seven reasons why:

1. History. The most notable occasion on which we’ve had a defence agreement and a joint expeditionary force with France was the Second World War. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, we won that. Obviously it didn’t work out too well for France, what with Germany annihilating the French army and occupying most of their country, and Britain blowing up the French navy before going home to dine on powdered egg with the Americans. But we did win, so defence agreements with France are a proven success. And now that we have the Channel Tunnel, their government will be able to flee to London so much more quickly than last time. If that’s possible.

2. Cuisine. Working together will rid both nations of antiquated ideas about the other nation’s diet. They will come to realise that there’s more to British cuisine than roast beef – because we’ve had branches of McDonalds since at least the 1970s – and we will come to realise that there’s more to French cuisine than frogs legs. They’ll introduce us to soufflé: An insignificant, over-inflated tart that shrinks at the merest hint of a knife, and Quiche Lorraine: A dish that they readily share with Germans – usually as a starter – which is often followed by a generous helping of their speciality, crêpe à la guerre.

3. Wisdom. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer: A line from The Godfather – often wrongly attributed to Sun Tzu – that’s a very wise strategy indeed. And who is the enemy in this case? Well, it’s France: The nation we’ve spent more time at war with than any other. They are l’ennemi traditionnel, and by being on board the same ships with them we’ll be able to keep a very close eye on them. Also, should a war break out between the nations, civilian casualties will be minimised as the theatre of war will be far smaller than usual; sometimes it will even be confined to the same engine room or bridge. And remember, should the enemy sink one of our aircraft carriers, they will bear half the cost.

4. Finance. Even if you’re not au fait with the minutiae of military funding it’s bleeding obvious that we’re going to save lots of money by sharing spending with France. Look at paint. All armed forces need lots of paint and, by getting together we’ll have greater purchasing power when it comes to procuring it. We’ll make substantial savings on grey paint for navy use, and camouflage paint for army use. And we’ll make even bigger savings on red, white and blue paint as we’ll need bloody loads of that now that we’ll need to paint a French flag on one side of things and a British flag on the other. The savings will be enormous. Énorme.

5. Efficacy. The measure by which all branches of the armed services are judged is their strike-capability. And by entering into an agreement with the French, we’ll increase the strike-capability of our military substantially. In fact, with the French on board, our strike capability will be the highest of any force in the world; our strike-capability will be infinity, which is greater even than the combined forces of China, North Korea, Iran, Christmas Island, Easter Island, Chuck Norris and Malta.

6. Co-operation. When Britain and France work together, the two nations have been able to affect profound and lasting positive sociological change. The channel tunnel, for example, which was first proposed in 1802 and was completed a mere 192 years later, allowed refugees of many nationalities to complete the final leg of their epic journeys of migration; fleeing hardship and squalor from across the four corners of Northern France, to civilisation in Southern England; where they were able to escape the tyranny of boules, cycling and listening to Johnny Hallyday and were introduced to the more civilised British pastimes of cricket, morris dancing, and the Daily-Mail-witch-hunt.

7. Culture. Our nations have much to learn from each other and the accord will doubtless be a civilising influence. As we get to know each other as individuals there will be a significant breakdown of prejudice and an increase in cultural exchange. We will teach the French to drink copious quantities of beer and fight with bald men in shirts at the weekend, and they will teach the British to drink copious quantities of wine and run from bald men in shirts at le weekend. We will teach the French to make popular music that will be cherished the world over, and they will teach the British how to sneer at the X-Factor. We will teach them that France is the ideal holiday destination, and they will teach us that France is the ideal holiday destination. It’s a match made in heaven. The Anglo-French defence agreement is going to be great.

November 3, 2010
7 Reasons The Anglo-Franco Defence Agreement Is A Bad Idea

Cameron: "Don't worry, your troops will be fine. From a distance it looks like a gun."

Once again the power of 7 Reasons is dictating how the world operates. Today, you will hear that Britain and France have agreed to join forces in the pursuit of defending our shores. A reliable source informs us that our piece entitled 7 Reasons To Invade France caused shock-waves in both British and French camps. David Cameron doesn’t want a diplomatic incident on his hands and the French are just scared. As a result they have agreed to stand together and deny the 7 Reasons dream. But what to them sounds like a good idea given the current economic climate, to us sounds like a catastrophe waiting to happen. Here’s why:

1. Conflicts. For this agreement to work, both Britain and France need to be reading off the same hymn sheet. Or invasion plan. But what happens if one country doesn’t like the others proposed deployment? Well, basically, they can veto it. Rather disastrously this is going to make it extremely difficult for Britain to invade France. And who wants to live without that prospect on the horizon? Well, the French probably, but who else? Life just got a little more boring.

2. Kitchen Wars. This agreement will mean both British and French troops will be stationed on aircraft carriers together. An Englishman and a Frenchman on an aircraft carrier at the same time? All we need is an Irishman and we have the makings of a joke. But, sadly, this isn’t a joke. This is a very serious matter. Who will win? A traditional English Breakfast with cup of tea or a Continental Breakfast with coffee. Even the thought makes me quite queer. And what happens if Pierre – I imagine all French chefs to be called Pierre. Or Jean-Paul. But this one’s a Pierre – what happens if Pierre is left in the kitchen alone for five minutes. He’s going to spike everything with garlic.*

3. Left or Driot? Anyone who has been to France will know that they drive on the wrong side of the road. How they sleep at night is a mystery. But that is something we will cover in a future 7 Reasons piece. Because today we need to point out the dangers this will cause. On aircraft carriers. With the British wishing to land their aircraft on the correct side of the carrier and the French wishing to land theirs on the wrong, there is going to be more than an argument. There is going to be a pile-up.*

4. Cricket. With the invasion of France looking less likely, there is going to be much more free time. Time when the troops of the two nations can bond. And what better way to bond than over a fierce game of cricket? Well, actually, every other way is better. Because the English are going to be playing proper cricket and the French are going to be playing nancy boys cricket. Or French cricket as they call it. It’s going to be like bodyline. Just with more blood and clueless Frenchmen. And this, despite what I may feel in my heart, is not a good thing.

5. Infestation. Have you ever considered the possibility that we don’t have enough frogs and snails in Britain? No? Well give it about six months and you’ll be wondering how the hell we’ve got so many frogs and snails in this country? Unless, you’ve read this. In which case you’ll know. As soon as that French aircraft carrier docks in Southampton, we’re going to get infested with the pests. And the frogs. And the snails.

6. Strikes. Who knows who we are going to have to defend ourselves against in the future, but for arguments sake, let’s suggest it’s Christmas Island. What happens if Davide and Nicolas send one of our aircraft carriers over there only for the French to go on strike? And let’s face it, this is a very real danger. The British boys will be stretched beyond belief. And, as good as they are, I am not sure they will be able to survive under the constant barrage of Christmas Tree missiles. The sheer number of pine needles will sink us.*

7. Time-Zones. This is something I doubt either Davo or Nico have considered. Return to that picture in your mind of the Anglo-Franco aircraft carrier coming under the fire of Christmas Trees if you will. The good news is that the French have ended their strike and are now sweeping pine needles off the deck. Then the order comes through that the joint force is to invade the Island at 0700. So they wait. And then at 0700 the French troops invade. And the British wonder what the hell they are doing? Because it’s only 0600.*

*These reasons are the property of Claire Quinn and have kindly been loaned out to 7 Reasons for the day. We are truly grateful. As otherwise 50% of the 7 Reasons team would have been here all day.

November 2, 2010