7 Reasons

Tag: costume

  • 7 Reasons To Love The Statesman!

    7 Reasons To Love The Statesman!

    Apart from waking up to the news that it is both International Women’s Day and Pancake Day, you may have also heard that 28,000 Police jobs are – in all likelihood – going to be cut. If your reaction to this news is one of fear, you need not worry. A new crime fighting force is out there. The UK’s answer to Kick-Ass is a real-life superhero. Let me introduce you to… The Statesman!

    The Statesman - A UK Superhero

    This powerhouse of a man is out there, right now – in Birmingham – protecting us. Protecting us all. Do we need 7 Reasons to love him? Of course we don’t. Are we going to give you 7 Reasons anyway? Well, obviously. Here they are:

    1.  Costume. The last person to try and spread a little love by wearing a Union Jack outfit was Geri Halliwell. The Statesman, though, has the eye mask to go with it. Which in my opinion makes all the difference. Everyone likes a superhero who can effectively combine fierce loyalty to his country with a bit of camp mystery.

    2.  Utility Belt. Savlon? Check. Plasters? Check. Maglite? Check. Swiss Army Knife from that Christmas cracker? Check. Let’s be honest, Superman was great, but he never took a strip of Elastoplast with him. The Statesman does. And a tube of Berocca to help the inebriated among us.

    3.  Moustache. The last time I saw something like this it was Movember 2009 and I was looking in the mirror. I scared people that month. Which only leads me to believe that The Statesman must scare baddies 24/7/365. Awesome man, just awesome!

    4.  Persuasive. Until the identity of The Statesman was splashed all over The Sun, his girlfriend thought he was off playing poker every night. Whether she ever questioned his choice of attire is, at present, unknown, but I suspect she did. I can only conclude therefore that The Statesman is a very persuasive chap. And let’s be clear about this, when you are faced with two bad men, each with a crowbar, the best way of unarming them is the mighty skill of persuasion.

    5.  Allies. That’s right, he has friends. Possibly in high places. Possibly in phone boxes. Possibly in the back of the Satesmobile. It doesn’t really matter where they are, the fact is they are out there. Fighting. Fighting for us. So go out, wear your bling, leave your car doors open, nothing bad will ever happen.

    6.  Weapons. There’s no gun, taser or baton sticking out of The Statesman’s trousers. He is unarmed. Well, except for his quick wit and boxing mitts. Given that gangs have ready access to a variety of kitchen utensil you have to applaud The Statesman’s ‘no violence’ approach. If only wars were fought in such a way.

    7.  Heart. Many superheroes are pre-occupied with fighting, not The Statesman though. If there is no crime to be fought, he’ll happily help the drunk across the road or give a blanket to a homeless person. A clever villain would probably try and use such a scenario as a diversion tactic, but I just have a sneaking suspicion that The Statesman will be ready for such an eventuality. He’s a superhero after all.

  • 7 Reasons That Series II of Downton Abbey Will Be Even Better Than Series I

    7 Reasons That Series II of Downton Abbey Will Be Even Better Than Series I

    Downton Abbey, ITV’s very enjoyable and successful Sunday evening drama has had a second series commissioned.  This is brilliant news as it is the best thing that ITV has produced for ages, possibly even ever.  And the great thing is that the second series is going to be even better than the first.  Here are seven reasons why.

    The cast of the ITV Sunday night costume drama series Downton Abbey, outside the stately home

    1.  The Writing Will Be Better.  Julian Fellowes is a terrific writer and his historical knowledge and nuanced eye make Downton Abbey a brilliant evocation of an Edwardian life of privilege.  And, as absolutely everything improves with practice and revision, the writing will be even better in the second series:  The first time he wrote Gosford Park, it was Gosford Park, which was quite good.  The second time he wrote Gosford Park, it was Downton Abbey, which was very good, and the third time he writes Gosford Park, it will be Downton Abbey: Series 2, which will surely be amazing.  If they commission a few more series, Downton Abbey will eventually become the best written thing in the history of television.

    2.  The Opening. The first series of Downton Abbey opened with the news of the sinking of the Titanic reaching the house.  Having the heirs to the house die in the Titanic tragedy was a terrific device which acted as the catalyst for many of the storylines.  Series two can repeat this by killing off the current heir to Downton Abbey in the sinking of the Lusitania, and then we can begin the search for an heir all over again.  Only this time we might get one with a chin and a personality.

    3.  The Limp.  One of the dominant storylines of series one has been Bates’ limp.  The consternation that it has caused has resonated throughout the series with many repercussions for both the house’s residents and staff.  The First World War setting of season two will offer far greater scope for the characters to be intolerant of the disabled causing, as it surely will, characters to maim themselves fighting the Bosch from a trench.  Perhaps a new downstairs hierarchy will develop based on the amount of available limbs a servant has.  It’s like taking the limp storyline and escalating it.

    4.  Maggie Smith. Redoubtable battleaxe, the Dowager Countess, stole the show when she enquired over dinner, “The weekend?  What is a weekend?”.  The war will provide far greater scope for lofty and disdainful incomprehension, bringing as it will, a whole new vocabulary of dreadnoughts, zeppelins, trench foot, doughboys, big berthas, whizz-bangs and Kaisers.  Though she probably already knows who the Kaiser is, “Rum fellow, typical foreign-type, no notion of how to dress for luncheon and abominable taste in hats.”  The moment she exclaims, “A zeppelin has bombed Hull?  What is this Hull of which you speak?” will be priceless.

    5.  Conscription. There’ll be great scope for new and interesting characters because of conscription.  And, while the third reserve under-butler’s valet’s second footman is away having his head blown off at the Somme, who knows what could happen back at Gosfor Downton Abbey.  Any manner of earth-shattering things could occur.  Women may have to take on some of the tasks usually performed by the menfolk.  The scope for revolutionary gender-role reassignment is immense.  Perhaps they’ll find themselves selecting cufflinks, removing lint from a man’s jacket or winding up a clock.  A maid might open the front door!  Anarchy.

    6.  Order. The version of pastoral care the paternal Earl metes out to his wards will be tested to the limit in series two, as the poverty and lack of privation that war brings begins to impinge on life at Downton.  How will he dispense justice when the newly widowed ladies-maid’s kitchen-maid’s undermaid is caught pilfering part of a silver cruet set?  How will he deal with the theft of three of his grouse by a hungry poacher named Higgins (all poachers are called Higgins, I don’t know why).  How will he react to the wooing of a ladies maid by an itinerant muffin man?  It’s going to be great.

    7.  Suitors.  Once she’s been forbidden to go into nursing by the Dowager Countess, (“Nursing?  A lady tending commoners?  The moon will surely implode,”)  the eldest daughter will continue her Downton life pretty much unaltered, except with more varied suitors.  Instead of being wooed by a succession of avaricious dullards in black tie, she’ll be wooed by a succession of avaricious dullards dressed in khaki.  And that will wholly justify paying the licence fee for a colour television.  We can’t wait.

  • 7 Reasons That You Shouldn’t do Bicycle Maintenance at 3am

    7 Reasons That You Shouldn’t do Bicycle Maintenance at 3am

    3am:  A time when almost everyone is in bed, sleeping.  But you may not be.  You may be lying in bed, unable to sleep.  You may be pontificating on weighty and important matters such as: What is the best wine to serve with SPAM?  Why does my local supermarket always run out of crumpets on Monday?  What would win in a fight; a pangolin or a labrador?  Usually these thoughts are inconclusive but, as you lay thinking important things, you may have a eureka moment and suddenly – and rather excitingly – the cause of the strange noise that your bicycle has been making all week will become apparent to you.  But under no circumstance, no matter how enthused you are, should you take any action at this time.  Here are seven reasons you shouldn’t do bicycle maintenance at 3am.

    a poster prohibiting a cycles being fixed at 3am with a spanner.

    1.  It’s Cold.  Not in bed, it’s nice and warm there.  But it will be cold in the kitchen.  Very cold.  But that’s where the bicycle and tools are.  So, as you’ve arrived downstairs wearing a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, you’ll grab whatever clothes you can find from the cupboard under the stairs.  And fairly soon, outfitted in green flip-flops, a pink and brown striped scarf, a beige trenchcoat,  a blue bobble hat and a pair of grey fingerless gloves, you’ll think to yourself, never mind, it’s not like anyone will see me. Then you’ll head into the kitchen where it will be…

    2.  Dark.  So you’ll put the kitchen lights on, and the kitchen will become very bright indeed.  So bright, in fact, that you’ll hurt your eyes and be caused to squint.  But you’ll set to work anyway; squinting, with spanner in hand and then, out of the corner of your squinty eye, you’ll notice a light, shining through your window (because no one covers their kitchen windows).  Yes, it’s…

    3.  The Neighbours.  Or more specifically, the neighbours whose bedroom overlooks your kitchen.  And you’ll do what anyone would do in this circumstance.  You’ll stand up, squinting, smile and wave at them.  Mostly to reassure them that it’s you and not a brainsick, colour-blind tramp who has broken in to steal the pasta from your kitchen.  Or the lemons.  And eventually, after the initial shock at seeing your outfit has worn off, they’ll realise that you’re not a burglar.  And the spanner that you’re waving in your right-hand will probably mirror their opinion of you.  Anyway, the neighbours will soon go back to sleep and you’ll return to the bike and work slowly and deliberately, in order to be…

    4.  Quiet.  Shh.  Very Quiet.  As quiet as a timid dormouse breaking wind next to a hungry lion.  Because your bedroom’s above the kitchen.  And making a noise would be inconsiderate/very very dangerous.  So you’ll work quietly, and that will go well.  Until you drop the spanner onto the quarry tiles.  And you will drop the spanner onto the quarry tiles.  Then – suddenly – and without warning, you will be face to face with…

    5.  Angry Woman.   And Angry Woman is…angry.  Furious, in fact.  Angry Woman is…shouting.  She’s shouting things like:

    “What the hell are you doing?” In this circumstance – even though you have a spanner in your hand and a partly disassembled bicycle in front of you, you shouldn’t resort to sarcasm.  That will make Angry Woman turn red and growl.  You don’t want that.  And then she may shout…

    “You love that bicycle more than you love me.” Now,  the last time she said something, you spoke, and that didn’t go at all well.  But that doesn’t mean that pausing and considering your words carefully is a good idea this time; it certainly isn’t.  Because then it will appear that you’re actually considering whether you love the bicycle more.  And even though your bicycle isn’t the one yelling and shouting at you, and it does have red handlebars and a nice…no, no you don’t love the bicycle more.  Really.  Anyway, the pause is a bad thing.  Because then she’ll shout…

    “You’re supposed to be in bed.   WITH ME!” Okay, so sarcasm and thinking haven’t gone well for you.  What’s left?  Humour?  No.    “I didn’t think you’d want your bottom bracket lubricating at 3am, darling” is the wrong reply.  And after she’s shouted,

    “And what the hell are you wearing?!” (it’s rhetorical this time) before storming upstairs, you’ll probably come to the conclusion that it’s time to go…

    6.  Back To Bed.  Stepping out of your Beach-Boy-hobo-Humprey-Bogart-on-acid-costume, you’ll return to the nice warm bed where you’ll discover by touching legs with your wife that your body temperature is at least ten centigrade lower than hers.  And then she will kick you.  Very hard.  This will hurt, and in two days time you’ll have a large blue and purple bruise on your left shin.  At this point though, when the pain subsides, you’ll fall into a deep, satisfying, refreshing sleep and the next morning you’ll wake up and feel amazing.  And you’ll feel that way right up until the moment you open your eyes and see the…

    7.  Oily Fingerprints All Over The Sheets And Pillows.  Ooops.  And later, on your cycle ride, you may feel inclined to visit both the florist and the chocolatier.