7 Reasons

Tag: Colour Blindness

  • 7 Reasons Blu-Tack Is Dangerous

    7 Reasons Blu-Tack Is Dangerous

    When you think about it, the fact that there are not more pencil case injuries is staggering. Stationery is dangerous. You can staple your thumb to the wall, you can poke your eye out with a pencil, you can get a rubber lodged up places. All these potential hazards pale into insignificance however when you place them next to… wait for it… Blu-Tack.

    7 Reasons Blu-Tack Is Dangerous
    Incredible Blu-Tack Spider by Elizabeth Thompson

    1.  Wall Collapses. Sadly, this is based on personal experience. Having used Blu-Tack to affix the DAB aerial to the wall in the hope of being able to hear Test Match Special, I then tried to pull it down as soon Geoffrey Boycott got his hands on the microphone. Unfortunately, I pulled a bit too hard. And while the aerial successfully came away from the wall, so did a non-too inconsiderate amount of plaster and plasterboard. It’s tough stuff Blu-Tack.

    2.  Monsters. Blu-Tack can be turned into giant spiders. Look at it! It’s huge! And not exactly un-lifelike either. Forget you’ve made this when you wander to the bathroom in the middle of the night and you’re going to get the fright of your life.

    3.  Typing. I like playing with Blu-Tack. It’s probably the equivalent of a comfort blanket. I have a blob (currently spherical in shape) on my desk and I always find myself rolling it around with my fingers. Half the time I don’t even realise I’m doing it. Nor do I realise that little bits get left on the tips of my fingers. This can cause problems. The other day, for instance, I was writing an email and my finger became stuck on the xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx. Marc still hasn’t replied.

    4.  Baldness. People suggest alopecia is the quickest and most terrifying way to lose hair. I disagree. Get Blu-Tack in your hair and it is there for good. The only way to get rid of it is to shave your head. Which is fine if you are thinking of popping down to the local Hare Krishna Temple, but not so great if your name is Rapunzel.

    5.  Goggles. Two years ago there was the bizarre story reported that teachers at one school ordered children to wear goggles before handling Blu-Tack. Their reasoning (and they one gave one) was that it prevented children from rubbing it into their eyes. I would say though, that wearing goggles is far more dangerous. Not only could it cause name-calling – four-eyes etc – you can be sure that the class bully will go up to one child, pull the goggles away from his eyes and then let go. With a thud the elastic will snap the goggles back into the unsuspecting child’s face and case rings around the eyes. You’re just giving bullies the equipment to bully. Blu-Tack shouldn’t be anywhere near the classroom. Over 18s only I say.

    6.  Spelling-Bee. Erm. It’s spelt blue. What sort of lesson are Blu-Tack setting to the younger generation if they so willingly spell words as they sound and not as they are rightly spelt? We’d have books full of ‘Terradactuls’ and ‘bagets’ and ‘leperds’ and ‘curnels’. What an abomination that would be. Blu-Tack are having a dangerous effect on our youth. Speaking of which…

    7.  Colour-Blindness. In their infinite wisdom Blu-Tack also sell Yello-Tack. Only instead of calling it Yello-Tack, they call it Blu-Tack. Which is bloody confusing. What happens if a baby’s first words in life are, “What’s this mummy?” as they hold up yellow Blu-Tack. The mother will say, “It’s Blu-Tack dear.” Followed by, “Oh my goodness! The baby’s talking! The baby’s talking!” In all the excitement they will totally miss the fact that they have just taught their baby that yellow is in fact blue. That will be ingrained on the baby for life.

  • 7 Reasons Life Would Be So Much Better In Black & White

    7 Reasons Life Would Be So Much Better In Black & White

    This post needs no introduction, but I’ll give it one anyway. Colour is rubbish. Right, on with the reasoning.

    1.  Colour Blindness. Suffering from the disability myself, I know that a world without colour would make things much easier. Especially when it comes to my work as a designer. Never again would a client phone me up and ask why I have decided to turn their red logo a shade of dark green. I then wouldn’t have to apologise and spend hours redoing the poxy thing. Nor would I get a subsequent phone call from the client advising me that they are terminating the contract because I obviously thought it would be funny to send it back brown.

    2.  Dull Games More Exciting. There was a time that I used to like snooker. I was at school and it proved a more enthralling than doing my homework. These days though I have found my entertainment elsewhere. I like to prod myself in the eye with chopsticks for example. If snooker went back to the good old days when it was played in black and white though, I can imagine being positively horny about the prospect. What colour has he hit?

    3.  Wardrobe. The reason I have such questionable dress sense is because I just have so many colours to choose from. That’s my excuse anyway. If everything was black or white though I couldn’t possibly go wrong. I could wear black with white. Or black with black. Or white with white. Or, if I was feeling adventurous, I could replicate a pack of dominoes.

    4.  Embarrassing Clothes. Talking about dress sense, why is there always someone who turns up to the wedding looking like a twat? Either they are wearing pick shoes or a turtle-shell patterned blazer.Black and white would eradicate this problem immediately. And you wouldn’t need to store your photo album in the loft.

    5.  Sunburn. Another disability I suffer with, the inability to put enough suncream on regularly. Because of this I often find myself getting burnt. Mostly on the face and neck, but I have been known to get burnt somewhere near Maidstone before too. While a black and white world wouldn’t lessen the physically pain, it would certainly reduce the mental anguish. I’d probably have something of a grayscale face which would enable me to blend nicely into an urban world of roads, pavements and lampposts.

    6.  Cheaper. The reason living is so expensive is due in no small part to likes of cyan, magenta and yellow. Get rid of them I say. Let’s just have black with nothing filling in where one wants white. We’d save a fortune and

    7.  Decision Making. In a world that is black and white it would only make sense that there are no blured issues. We would automatically know right from wrong. We would know that tea is right. We would know that Janet Street-Porter is wrong. Life would just be so much simpler.

     

  • Guest Post: 7 Reasons That Recycling Is Rubbish

    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.

    7 Reasons Recycling

    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.