Tag: cars

Guest Post: 7 Reasons You Wouldn’t Want To Be James Bond

James Bond is a hero; an archetypal action icon. He’s got the licence to kill. He’s got the cool gadgets. He gets the girl. He saves the day. Every man would want to be Bond, right? Well, no actually. There are plenty of reasons why being 007 wouldn’t rock. Here are seven reasons why it would suck to be MI6’s infamous secret agent…

1. Your Personality. Despite 23 cinematic outings, you’re still a curiously undeveloped character. You possess the superficial charm of a cunning cad, but deep down there’s little rattling around except arrogance and bitter grudges. You have serious communication issues, and are only able to express yourself through cynicism, brute force and a penchant for one-liners. While that’s undeniably entertaining for two hours, you’d actually enjoy life more as a Bond villain. In fact, there are seven reasons why that would be better.

2. No Friends. You don’t have friends; you have assets – sprawling networks of intelligence gatherers, double agents and fellow spies. But you can’t even hang out with them like a normal person because, most of the time, you end up killing them. Could you make some genuine BBFs? Not likely. Friends don’t tolerate it when you visit Fort Knox without bringing back a souvenir, or cancel dinner plans at the last minute to go on a murderous rampage at an embassy in Madagascar. Or star in a film as bad as Quantum of Solace.

3. Social Media. You already tell everyone your real name. This makes you vulnerable. But now you have to worry about your latest conquest Instagramming your awesome new toy, or tweeting about your top secret location. And what about when you want to check in to your luxury hotel on Facebook, or oust Le Chiffre as the Mayor of Casino Royale on foursquare? All your enemies will know where you are. Which is a problem. Your only hope of anonymity is to use a network no one else does. You’ll need to join Google+.

4. Insurance Costs. It might look fun to smash up millions of pounds worth of high-tech kit, but when you write off a souped-up supercar constantly it gets expensive. Constructing vehicles with built-in rockets and ejector seats means you need very special modified car insurance. And as a reckless playboy your quotes will be eye-watering. Your excess will be excessive. Rumours are already circulating that the follow-up to Skyfall will be Skyhigh – a sequel in which Bond battles rising insurance premiums, with a sub-plot about protecting his No Claims Bonus. It’ll be box office gold.

5. Bond Girls. You’ve spent decades as both a literal and figurative lady killer. But after 50 years of shallow and meaningless romantic liaisons, you’ve got a problem: you’re running out of women. It might seem like a supermodel falls into your bed every time you stop by Monte Carlo, but those days are numbered; your prolific promiscuity is leaving the world bereft of fresh conquests. And not only are they growing scarce, but attractive female characters are also getting harder to seduce now that scriptwriters have decided to give them personalities and feelings and stuff.

6. Transferable Skills. You haven’t aged since 1962, but one day you’ll have to quit 007-ing and hang up your Walthar PPK. Being a jet-setting spy gets old after a while, and eventually the familiarity of normal life will seem more appealing than driving invisible cars. But finding a job will be tough. You’re essentially only good at three things: espionage, seduction and violence. And you don’t officially exist, so you have no CV. Oh, and you’re a sociopath. These factors make it difficult to find a job outside being James Bond. A career as a male escort looks promising, but who wants a psychopathic gigolo? Your future employment prospects look bleak.

7. Death Proof. Sorry to spoiler, but you don’t die in Skyfall. And you won’t die in your next outing as 007 either. Or the next one, probably. Daniel Craig has signed on for two more Bond adventures, meaning you are effectively immortal. Knowing you aren’t going to die is boring. It takes edge off the action. Shooting bad guys is less exciting when you know they can’t kill you back. Not convinced? Immunity to peril might sound cool, but if they let Madonna do another theme song then being impervious to death won’t seem so amazing.

Author Bio: Andrew Tipp is a film geek and pop culture noodler. He is a man of science, and of reason. He is also a man of action. And he likes coffee. And bacon. He has previously written for backpacking website gapyear.com and youth media magazine IP1.

October 20, 2012
7 Reasons To Go Hitchhiking

It’s that age-old question. Should I take the bus or risk getting murdered by white van man? The vast majority choose the bus route, but here at 7 Reasons we want to encourage the protrusion of thumbs. Here’s why:

1. Adventure. When you get on the bus or the train, ninety-nine times out of a hundred you know where you are going. (For the purposes of this post we’re assuming your sober.) Your carriage takes you on the same route as you have seen so many times before. Nothing changes. Not even the traffic lights. So why not bring a bit of the unknown into play? Your friendly driver may show you a different route. You may end up going cross-country. You might foray into the bus lane. You might find yourself in the middle of a drugs run or importing illegals. Who knows? At the end of the day, the worst thing that could possibly happen to you is that you have a free trip to Leicester. So why not give it a go?

2. Conversation. Odd isn’t it? We get on the bus and the thought of talking to someone never crosses our mind. We even put our earphones in to make sure no one even so much as thinks of asking us the time. When we get in a car though, we feel impelled to talk. About the weather. About the traffic. About last night’s football that you didn’t even watch. About anything and everything really. Not talking is scary. So if you want to save your iPhone battery for the journey home, hitchhike in the morning.

3. Myth-Buster. See that sign above? The one that says ‘Hitchhikers may be escaping inmates’? Prove a driver wrong. Don’t get in the car and say, ‘Step on it! I’m being chased by a villain’, get in the car and say, ‘Hello. Thank you so much’. Even if you are escaping an inmate it’s useful to use the latter approach. Just shouting ‘Go! Go! Go!’ will most likely panic your driver and cause them to stall. Ten seconds later you’ll have a bullet in the back of your head.

4. Challenge. Of course the alternative is that your driver turns out to be a rapist/murderer/liberal democrat/Alan Carr fanzine writer. Or all four. Such situations challenge you to the hilt. (Wherever the hilt is). The question is, how will you get out of this one with your bottom still in tact, your life still in order, not becoming a murderer yourself and not signing up for a weekly e-newsletter? We can’t give you the answers. It’s up to you to work them out in the back of ‘Paul’s’ camper van. Go on, test yourself.

5. Sign Language. The ‘thumb up’ is the universal sign for approval. Or ‘I’m good’. Or ‘Okay’. So if you start telling drivers that you’re good, they might tell you that they’re good. Or they might give you another sign altogether. It’s a test of patience really. But if you can meet with thumbs up and middle finger salutes and treat those two impostors just the same; yours is the lift my son. Eventually. Maybe.

6. You Are Who You Aren’t. You don’t really get the opportunity at work to tell people you are really an MI5 operative. Mainly because they know you work in telesales. But a complete stranger, who you will never meet again, you can tell them anything you like. Perhaps you’re a pilot. Or a cocktail club owner. Or door-to-door fish salesman. Just be who you want to be. The chances are they design Formula One cars anyway.

7. Cred. Jack Kerouac wrote a novel based on his experiences of hitchhiking and made it cool. Tony Hawks wrote a book about hitchhiking with a fridge and made it even cooler. So logic would dictate that when you do it, you’ll be so friggin’ cool you’ll be like ice to touch. Not convinced? Well ask yourself this. Did Reg Varney make travelling by bus cool in On The Buses? Thought not.

*Yes. I did struggle to come up with a seventh reason. Well spotted.

August 24, 2011
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 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 That It Should Be Impossible to Drive Into The Sea

This year, there have been eight incidents of motorists being rescued from the sea near Holy Island. But it just seems completely impossible that this can happen. Here are seven reasons why.

This isn’t possible.

1. There’s A Bloody Great Sign. As you approach the causeway to Holy Island, there’s a sign. It tells you not to drive across to the island when water approaches the causeway. It’s a big, yellow sign, and it’s big and yellow because big, yellow things are highly visible. Can you see the sun? Yes? That’s because it’s a big, yellow thing. Just like the sign that tells you not to drive into the sea.

Can you see this?

2. It’s Called Holy Island. What’s in a name? Well, in this case, there’s a hint as to the nature of the place to which these people were headed. There’s the word Holy, which means tread carefully, and the word Island, which is a declaration that this is a place that is cut off from the mainland somehow; most likely by water. If I were going to an island, I’d expect water. And, hopefully, an ice cream.

3. You Have To Drive Along A Causeway. A causeway is a raised road that crosses marshy ground or water. Now I understand that not everyone knows this and, indeed, there was a time in my life that I didn’t know what a causeway was. And then, when I was seven, that all changed and I learned that word. Now, given that you have to be at least seventeen to drive a car is this possible? Are there people over the age of seventeen in this country that are unfamiliar with the either the word island or the word causeway? There can’t be.

4. Another Sign. Perhaps I’m wrong when I assume that these inadvertent submariners were approaching Holy Island. Perhaps these hapless buffoons were leaving it. But maybe I’m being harsh and these people were just a tiny bit muddled and forgetful. But no, they can’t be, because there are more signs; signs to warn those people that are about to drive across the causeway for a second time. Big, yellow signs and different signs too. Signs that tell you to consult a tide table if you’re in any doubt as to whether you should attempt to drive across the sea.

5. Tide Table. But telling people to consult a tide table isn’t overly helpful, is it? After all, who keeps a tide table in their glove-box? And, come to think of it, who keeps gloves in their glove-box? Why isn’t is known as the half a pocket pack of tissues and the charger for a phone-box?* Anyway it’s conceivable that people won’t have a tide table on them so perhaps, once again, I’m judging them too harshly. But…

…oh look, there it is. That wasn’t too hard to find after all. Are these foundering fuckwits an early indication that humans are reverting to apes?

6. Boats. Britain is an Island. And, because of our glorious seafaring history, it will be apparent to anyone with even a modicum of an education or cognitive function that, to cross the sea, you need a boat. Did Nelson fight the battle of Trafalgar on a horse? Was Hitler able to drive his panzers across the sea in 1941? Did Sir Francis Drake sally forth to dispatch the armada at the wheel of a Nissan Micra? No. This is because you can’t drive in the sea. That is a widely known and commonly accepted truth.

7. Other Nations. I’m assuming that these shipwrecked simpletons are British though. But there are other nationalities that have done this too. Because in the latest incident in which motorists had to be rescued from the sea by a lifeboat near Holy Island (and who wouldn’t want to be a fly on the wall for that conversation?) they weren’t British at all. And I suppose that it’s quite conceivable that if you were from a landlocked nation and weren’t familiar with the English language that it would be possible for you to inadvertently get caught out on the causeway. So which landlocked non-English-speaking land with no absolutely no history of seafaring did these people come from? Australia.

It’s not possible that people are driving into the sea, but they are. How? Why? Answers on a postcard please.

*That’s a charger for a phone, not a charger for a phone-box.

June 20, 2011
7 Reasons To Embrace Christmas Traffic Jams

Strictly speaking, there is no such thing as a Christmas traffic jam, in the same way as there is no such thing as a Christmas turkey, but you know what I mean. Which is just as well, because if I had used ‘7 Reasons To Embrace The Traffic Jams You Experience While Travelling Somewhere For Christmas’ both of you may have decided not to read. I’m glad you have though, because I have importance to impart on you. If you are travelling this Christmas, this is the most helpful thing you will read this half-hour.

1. In-Laws. If you are very lucky, your in-laws, or – if you are sans wedding-ring – your partner’s family, will be normal. This is fairly uncommon however, so we shall assume that the in-laws are a weird bunch. The mother-in-law smokes a pipe and keeps singing sea shanties and the father-in-law insists on wearing novelty ties and very little else. That type of weird. The type of weird that means you want to spend as little time in their company as possible over Christmas. The type of weird that makes traffic jams seem like a little piece of heaven.*

2. Christmas Playlist. Unless you really are a Scrooge (or deaf), Christmas songs evoke the festive spirit. And no one can tell me that after listening to Wham! and Chris Rea over and over and over and over and over again you’re not going to be in the mood for mulled wine. And beer. And brandy. And anything else that might numb the pain.

3. Excuses. Despite having 364 days to buy your loved one a present, you seem to have forgotten to buy one. This means you need a damn good excuse. And to think of a damn good excuse you need time. And time comes with traffic jams. Lots of them. By the time you get to your destination, your loved one will be too tired and relieved to care about presents. Which gives you time to whip down to B&Q.

4. Traditional Games. What with the advent of Game Boys and Game Gears and PSPs, the traditional in car entertainment was shelved. Mammoth games of ‘i-Spy’ and ‘I Went On My Holidays…’ were swapped for games featuring a hedgehog called Sonic and a footballer who looked like Shrek. Christmas traffic jams are the perfect opportunity to relive those golden days. A chance to remember those simpler times. Times where the use of the brain was more important than the use of the thumbs. Admittedly, i-Spy will only last until someone has guessed BOOORRRIIINNNGGG!!! but, despite someone not quite understanding the joys of the game, it will be fun while it lasts. Honest.

5. Scenery. Ever wanted to see Slough look pretty? Get stuck there in the snow. It’s your only hope.

6. Accents. Have you ever wondered what people sound like in the area you are driving through? No, probably not. That’s because you are driving through them. But what if you are stuck in them? No, probably not. But you should. Because it will open your eyes to the world around you. And you don’t need to do it by winding down the window and freezing to death. Just tune in to the local radio station. If you are lucky they’ll be interviewing someone who thought they had grown a six-foot cucumber only to discover it was in fact a marrow. And that never happens where you live.

7. Challenge. Despite what we are encouraging here, we know no one likes sitting in a traffic jam and, given the opportunity, they will find a way of getting out of it. Which is where the road map comes in handy. I can’t think of anything more rewarding than plotting a way out of a jam and then executing it perfectly. Especially if you set yourself a time limit and pretend you are being chased by members of the KGB. Such circumstances can turn pain and despair into exhilaration and triumph. And is a case in itself for joining a jam if you see one. We’ll see you in there.

*I would just like to point out that I am very lucky. Despite their annoying habit of making me look a very average tennis player, my girlfriend’s parents are a delight.**

**No, I am not just saying this. How cynical of you.

December 20, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Student Accommodation Can Be Rather Tiresome

Something a bit special is happening on the 7 Reasons sofa today. For the first time ever, one Lee is being replaced by another. I, Jon, am stepping aside and handing control of 7 Reasons over to my brother, Rob. This may backfire quite substantially, but for the sake of me having a day off , it is a risk I am more than happy to take. If you enjoy Rob’s ranting you may be interested in reading his first book, Shattered Souls. It contains no ranting, but does feature a place called RedFjord. Amazon are also currently offering a very generous 90p discount which is quite a bonus. Right, here’s Rob. I’m off out to buy some more asterisks.

1. The Fridge. The fridge is always too small. Always. What is it about landlords and small fridges? Do they not think that their tenants might want to buy food? We don’t all survive on takeaway and ready meals y’know. Some of us can even use rudimentary kitchen utensils, or combine ingredients that aren’t cheese, tomato sauce, and frozen chips. Despite this, it’s always a case of having one shelf in the fridge. I don’t know about you, but cheese takes up about half the space in mine, let alone any other food. And no I am not willing to freeze it. Frozen cheese is an abomination. Step one, get bigger fridges.

2. The Builders. Why is it that student landlords always have builders doing ‘things’ with the house? Things which are seemingly unnecessary, and even these are invariably done badly. So the landlord is called; he/she is forced to come round; then they call back the same builders who did it wrong in the first place!* Even worse, they give them keys to the property. Yes, do go in, don’t mind them, they’re just sleeping**. The landlord comes out with things like ‘don’t lock your door so my builders can get in’. What? I’m not leaving my door unlocked in a student neighbourhood – I may as well just leave my valuables on a park bench with a ‘Take-Me Big Boy’ sign. I’m also not letting some Charlie I’ve never met, wander about, knocking bits out of the place I’m living, without someone there to stop him. (Or her. We’re very broad minded here).

3. The Neighbours. Student housing has neighbours. Invariably only about two feet away from you and separated by a wall about as thick as a cream cracker. This is not good when one wishes to sleep. Especially because the neighbours always seem to be nocturnal and have absolutely no taste in music. Music which they broadcast to the entire street***. Neighbours shouldn’t be allowed.

4. The Parking. There isn’t any. Many students have cars so they can move their collection of road signs, traffic cones, novelty hats and foreign vodka from one place to another. Lots of cars and no parking is an equation that doesn’t work. It also means walking anywhere becomes a game of car-dodgems from idiots who, having shared their lack of taste in music with the street, have decided to drive down the one you’re walking along.

5. The Bathrooms. There’s only ever one. This is annoying when you’ve just got in from a post seminar drink and discover you have to wait half an hour to use the facilities. Either that or you nip back round the corner to the local public house to use theirs and nearly end up locked in because you’ve discovered the only pub in the area which kept to a closing time of 11pm when all the rest changed to an hour before dawn****.

6. The Annual Quest For Housing. Unless you happen to be lucky enough to be in a house which is not leaking, falling down, being sold to a private individual who doesn’t want to live with students, being sold to another landlord who seems to think letting to undergrads will be easier than letting to postgrads, a pit, too small, too big, too expensive, neighboured by idiots called Nelson who keep getting stoned and wandering about outside shouting ‘Hash’ at 3am in the morning***** and then playing their music so loud that industrial-level earplugs make no difference, then you invariably find yourself moving. (Insert breath here). This effectively entails scouring housing lists on the internet and engaging in the blind battle that is finding the only decent place before all the other people do. This process is annoying, especially because it also means parting with large amounts of money in the form of deposits which you’ve only just got back from the last place******.

7. The students. There’s far too many of them*******.

*Not all builders get it wrong, some are very good at their job, however, student landlords like it cheap. Cheap and good don’t go together in building work, ask the bridge builders of Delhi.

**No, not as you may imagine at 3pm in the afternoon, but in fact at 6am when the banging starts. And by banging I don’t mean another apparently favourite activity of the undergraduate student.

***Unhappily half the time much of the street is broadcasting back, and Classic FM it certainly isn’t, it’s not even Radio 2.

**** This may or may not have happened. It does not particularly help if you just returned from a smart do and are dressed in black trousers white shirt – the staff may think you work in the cellar. This also may or may not have occurred.

*****This did happen. Many times. Many many times (a little classic comedy nod there, if you know what it refers to then I’m sure Julian and Sandy will see you right).

******Yes, everyone renting has to pay deposits, so feel free to join in being annoyed about this point even if you’re not in the university system.

*******As a postgrad I don’t consider myself a student, especially since I teach the little terrors (ahem, the academic future of this country) too. Postgrads are excluded from the above rants. Unless Nelson ever becomes a postgrad. I won’t worry about him reading this; I don’t imagine he knows how to read.

October 30, 2010
7 Reasons to Leave Your Car at Home

It’s World Car-Free Day today. And to celebrate, here are seven reasons to leave your car at home.

1. It’s Healthier. Rather than driving to work, and getting stressed and aggravated at the wheel of a car on the way, you can cycle instead. It’s much better for you, and you won’t just be sitting there, impotently experiencing road rage, so you’ll feel really good and be a lot healthier as a result. Well, until you get run over by a minicab and offered a fight by a disproportionately cross man in a white pick-up truck, that is. But that doesn’t happen every day. Some days it’s a blue one.

2. There Are Buses Available. In order to reduce the traffic on the road and free it up to make more room for areas that are coned-off for no apparent reason, you can take the bus to work. Because it’s always fun to ride in a vehicle in which the driver treats the accelerator as an on/off button, and in which anyone sitting on the upper deck is likely to experience motion sickness from the swaying as it rounds corners at improbable speeds. Not to mention the persistent nagging doubt that the bus will topple over. That’s where the real terror lies. Still, fear of death is life-affirming, so you’ll feel better as a result.

3. The Environment. Cars produce a lot of pollution*, and anyone that’s ever walked along the pavement next to a queue of traffic in the morning will be able to testify to the amount of noise-pollution that they emit. From the teenagers in the Vauxhall Corsa playing neurofunk at stomach-churning levels to the grey-faced businessmen listening to BBC Radio 4 at such a volume that, though you try not to listen, you can actually feel the shipping forecast reverberating through your skeleton as you walk past, traffic is intrusively noisy. But don’t panic. Though you may feel faint through sheer boredom on hearing the shipping forecast, it won’t actually kill you. Unless you concentrate on it quite hard.

4. The Train. You may be able to get the train to work. This will help you gain a new perspective on time and, as you realise that time, in fact, does not exist, and is just a series of made up numbers wholly unrelated to maths or the concept of measurement, you’ll relax and eventually come to enjoy starting your working day at lunchtime. Or 08:57, as First Capital Connect call it.

5. Parking Vouchers. Because you’ve paid for that parking permit, damn it. And every minute that your car is parked on the street outside your house you’re getting value for money. And eventually, if your car is parked outside your house for long enough, you’ll begin to turn a profit. Surely?

6. The Tube. Perhaps you live near an underground railway. And there’s no experience like getting together with a few thousand other people in a tin can and all trying not to look at each other (or at each other’s reflections in the window, that’s an amateur mistake). Ever wanted to know what you’d smell like if you didn’t bathe for a week? Go and stand next to a fat man in a cheap suit on a tube train. Then go home and shower. For a long time.

7. Because It’s A Good Idea. It’s actually a good idea to leave your car at home occasionally. Even if it turns out that the car is the most effective mode of transport for you, you’ll at least have explored the alternatives available. And if it isn’t, then you’ll have learned something valuable. Like discovering that bananas are easier to eat than apples, or that you enjoy eating gorgonzola more that you enjoy eating paté, or that kiwis give you more energy than a Mars bar. Or that you’re much hungrier than you thought you were.

*There are loads of car-pollution statistics available here.

September 22, 2010
7 Reasons to Buy a Popemobile

It’s the last day of the papal visit to the United Kingdom and, somewhat to my surprise, I’ve been inspired by it. I used to believe that the bicycle was the correct vehicle for the urban environment, or that a tank would be practical, but I now realise that I’ve been a fool. The correct vehicle for the urban environment is, in fact, a popemobile. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Performance. A popemobile might outwardly appear a little too sedate for the urban environment. You might wonder how your popemobile will keep pace with modern traffic. But it will. Because the popemobile isn’t the top-heavy, lumbering vehicle that it appears to be. The popemobile that we’ve seen in the UK recently has a top speed of 160mph, and a 0-60 time of six seconds (never let it be said that we don’t do research here). Why they haven’t demonstrated this by spinning the wheels and performing doughnuts to delight the assembled crowds, I don’t know (unless they think that the smoking tyres might signify the election of a new pontiff). But the popemobile is faster than you think. And it’s also bullet-proof, which is handy if you live in Nottingham. Or near a Wetherspoons.

2. Running Costs. Now you might imagine that your popemobile will be expensive to run. And you’re right, it will be. But you can offset that cost by moonlighting as a taxi driver. You’ll make a fortune. Consider it for a moment. Imagine that you’re having a great evening out, but the time has come to return home. You might be a girl with impractical shoes, or married to a girl with impractical shoes and you’ll need to call a taxi. Or you can choose the new premium option, the popemobile taxi. Who wouldn’t pay through the nose to ride home in the popemobile? I’d be dialling MCMXIVIII to order a Vaticab like a shot.

3. View. Finding somewhere to park is one of the trickiest aspects of urban driving. Ever seen a pope struggling to find a parking space? Of course not, just look at the visibility they get in the back. You’ll be able to find a space easily. And laugh at balding people at the same time.

4. Income. The back of the popemobile is, essentially, a large glass jar. Now traditionally, in fairgrounds and confectioners, people fill large glass jars with sweets and charge customers money to guess how many are in there. And you can do that with your popemobile. You can’t just fill it with any sweet, obviously. You’ll need something (ahem) appoperiate. Werther’s Original?. You can charge people to guess how many are in there, and your vehicle will pay for itself really quickly. And you’ll meet lots of men in comfortable knitwear, which is..er…well. There must be a plus side to that somewhere.

5. Visibility. Ever lost your bland silver box of a car in the car park? Of course you have. I once spent almost an hour searching for a Volkswagen Passat I’d parked at B & Q. But with a popemobile that problem will disappear. A popemobile is visible from quite a distance. Even when there isn’t a pope in it.

6. Self-Sufficiency. We’re all looking for ways to stretch our budgets further these days, and everyone’s come over a bit Tom and Barbara from The Good Life recently. In fact, there probably hasn’t been a time since the second world war when people are growing so many of their own fruit and vegetables. In the urban environment that most of us live in though, there isn’t much space to do this. But look at the back of the popemobile. It’s glazed. You can use it as a greenhouse when you’re not cruising in it. And it’s bulletproof. So no one can off your cucumbers with an uzi. It’s an all-round win.

7. Resale Value. It’s unlikely that you’ll tire of your popemobile, but if you should, remember this. Second hand car dealers often try to attribute religious credentials to the former owners of the vehicles they’re trying to sell. “It was owned by a nun”, or “it was used by a vicar to travel around his small country parish” are oft-heard pieces of sales-patter. But imagine that you’re selling a vehicle that’s been owned by the pope? “One papal owner”? You’ll make a fortune.

September 20, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons That Recycling Is Rubbish

It’s fair to say that the 7 Reasons Sofa Tour of The United States (Manchester, Scotland and rainy streets) is well and truly over now. While we have enjoyed our foray over the Atlantic (Pennines, border and road) in the past month or so, there is nothing quite like being at home. Taking over sofa duties today is Richard O’Hagan, who, apart from being a fanatical environmentalist (if this post is to be believed) writes about stuff for The Memory Blog, the Daily Mail and Cricket With Balls. You can follow him on Twitter and get directions to his house here. Over to you Richard.

Don’t get me wrong here, recycling is a good thing. At least for the next couple of generations. After which time we’ll have recycled everything so many times that no-one will really care any more, because everyone will have forgotten how to make anything new anyway. No, what I really object to is my local council saying that I have to recycle stuff, then only collecting half of the stuff they tell you to recycle.

1. Rubbish In Car. The council have dustcarts to take the rubbish away. Recycling is still rubbish. Why the hell am I having to put it in my car and drive it to the recycling point. It’s bad enough that you are using me to do the job you should be doing, do you have to take my vehicle as well?

2. Colour Blindness. They insist that I divide my glass into clear, green and brown. Apparently you can never cross the streams and mix green with brown. But I am colour blind. I can no more tell green from brown than I can give birth. Which means that 2/3 of my trip is entirely pointless. No, more than that, because where’s the bin for this blue vodka bottle? Or this yellow lemon juice one?

3. Wasps. What do wasps like most? Sticky, sweet stuff? Like, maybe, the fermenting dregs of booze in a bottle bank? Yes, at this time of year, going to the bottle bank – if you can work out which bin to put which bottle in – is like visiting a giant wasps nest. So now I have a smelly car, am worried that I might be putting stuff in the wrong bins, and am now risking death by wasp sting.

4. Foil. The council also insist that I recycle foil. But only clean foil. Which is completely useless, because I need the clean foil I have to put over stuff that I am cooking with. The whole point of foil, in fact, is that it gets dirty. And have you every tried to wash the stuff? It is like trying to wash custard skin. So now I have to choose the lesser of two evils and recycle less-than-clean-foil. Which leads to

5. Dirty Hands. Dustmen get given gloves. If the council want me to do their job, surely they should give me gloves. So not only do I get confused and stung by doing the recycling, I also have dirty hands. Although my car is also dirty.

6. Boxes. And then there is the cardboard box problem. To get the cardboard boxes to the recycling, you need to put them in something. Such as a bigger cardboard box. Which you then put into a bigger cardboard box. And then a bigger cardboard box. Until you end up with a box so big, it won’t go through the stupidly small, letterbox-like, slot they have put in the cardboard container. So you leave it on the ground, along with the boxes left by everyone else who had the same problem, because

7. Mountains. The council don’t believe in emptying the recycling until there is a mountain of cardboard that even Sir Chris Bonington would baulk at. Which means I’ve got dirty, my car has got dirty, and I have been stung and confused, simply to create a small version of the very big rubbish tip I still suspect the council of carting the whole lot off to anyway. Pah. Recycling is rubbish.

September 4, 2010