Tag: David Cameron

7 Reasons It’s A Disaster England Lost The Bid To Host The 2018 World Cup

1. Qualifying. England have got to do it. And that’s worrying. Ever so often they cock it up. And the qualifying campaign for the 2018 World Cup could be the ever so often.

2. Scotland. Russia have won the bid. That is one hell of a long way to go to just to put in a spirited performance – albeit in defeat – against Brazil and then lose 4-0 to Japan. They could have lost at St. James’ Park and then slipped back over the border unnoticed.

3. England. Russia is a long way to go to lose on penalties to Portugal. We could quite easily have done that at home. Or in Portugal. And the players could have done it without wearing gloves.

4. Children. Given that 66% of children think ‘The War Of The Roses’ has something to do with those sweets that aren’t Quality Street, England hosting the 2018 World Cup would have been the perfect opportunity for the BBC to do those profiles of the host country. Like they did in South Africa. They would have taught the youth of the year after the next seven all about England’s rich heritage. Instead they are going to learn about Russian dolls. And I don’t mean Anna Kournikova.

5. Economy. Let me be the first to tell you that Russia is three hours ahead of the UK. That means games during our afternoons. You can bet your last fiver that England will be playing Cameroon on a Wednesday afternoon at about 2pm BST. And it’s a game they are going to have to win having previously lost 2-1 to Romania and drawn 0-0 with a country no one has even heard of. Despite the fact that we will be rubbish, people will still be skipping work to watch the game. It’ll be enough to plunge us into a recession. Probably the same one we are in now.

6. Press. If England do make it through to the World Cup, for one whole day Sky News will be covering the ‘England Leave For Russia’ story. We’ll have to endure watching the England players walk up some steps and onto a plane. Probably followed by Gazza with a fishing rod and a bucket of chicken. Then six hours later we’ll have to watch them walked off the plane in Moscow. Followed by a drunk Gazza with a fishing rod and no chicken.

7. It’s Coming Home! If England had won the bid, we could have listened to this song while it made sense. Now, we’ll have to listen to it trying to work out how Russia is the home of football. And Baddiel and Skinner will be 54 and 61 respectively. They’ll have probably gone all Chas’n’Dave on us.

December 2, 2010
7 Reasons The UK Owes Ireland

If you are British, you may be asking why our Government is helping to bail out Ireland. Well wonder no longer. It is quite simple. Ireland has given so much to the UK. So much. We owe them.

1. Music. ‘Some people say I look like me dad. What?! Are you serious?’ As I am sure you are all aware, they are the very first lines of the B*Witched classic, C’est le vie. And it’s only by listening to those words that you can really appreciate just how good The Spice Girls actually were. And that has to be a worth rewarding, doesn’t it?

2. Alcohol. From Guinness to Baileys to Bulmers/Magners and back to Guinness again. The Irish know how to drink. Sadly, many Briton’s don’t, which is why…

3. Hurling – a pursuit played out on the fields of Ireland – has become particularly popular on the streets of the UK. Just after closing time. And that in turn is why the British paracetamol industry remains so strong. Thanks Ireland.

4. James Bond. It is not often said that Pierce Brosnan did for Britain’s finest secret agent what Nasser Hussain did for the England Cricket team, but it’s true. Both picked up a beleaguered enterprise and through sheer bloody mindedness and the help of their respective peers in the form of Dame Judi Dench and Duncan Fletcher, turned it into something quite beautiful. Or at least passable. Better than it was anyway. And for that we should be eternally thankful. No one wants to watch Licence To Kill followed by the 1989 Ashes highlights.**

5. Sir Terry Wogan. Not only did he provide a superior earful for the more sophisticated radio listener than say Christopher Moyles, he also made the debacle that is The Eurovision Song Contest relatively enjoyable. Mainly because he talked over both presenters and songs alike. While slowly getting sloshed on whiskey. And getting away with it. He also introduced me to Gina G. And when you are twelve you like that kind of thing.

6. Leprechauns. Oddly, and rather ridiculously in my opinion, the people of the UK seem to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day more than St. George’s Day, St. Andrew’s Day and St. David’s Day combined. But at least on 17th March Trafalgar Square is full of honorary Leprechauns instead of bloody pigeons.

7. Home Comforts. Wherever I have been in the world, I always find an Irish pub. Not on purpose, it’s just there. Being all Irish at me. And it’s a nice feeling. Not because it adds to the ambiance of the street, but because I know I’ve found somewhere to watch the rugby. And for that I have always been eternally thankful.

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**If ever you wanted an example of a reason where I start writing without an idea of where it is heading, this is it.

November 22, 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
7 Reasons That Size is Important

Whether you’re a cricketer, a despot, a politician or a git; size matters. Here are 7 reasons why.

1. Geoffrey Boycott. If Geoff Boycott had used a bat this size, no bowler would ever have taken his wicket. Carrying the large bat would also have caused him to move more slowly, meaning that there would have been fewer instances of him running team-mates out. The obdurate Boycott would have been so effective with the larger bat that, having started this match in 1979, he would probably still be batting now. With a score of about thirty runs.

2. David Cameron. I have shrunk David Cameron and his relative size in this picture is a more accurate representation of the UKs importance in the world order. It serves him right for belittling war heroes on his recent trip to the USA: He caused me to agree with the Daily Mail! This is his punishment.

3. My Cat. If my cat were this size then he would terrorize the city of York, wreaking untold havoc, death and destruction on the population by falling asleep on them about once every ten minutes. He is quite useless. And fortunately quite small.

4. Piers Morgan. If Piers Morgan’s head were…oh…Piers Morgan’s head is this size. Pretend you haven’t seen it. I know I will.

5. Umbrellas. If umbrellas were this small then they would be ineffective, and people would soon realise that having wet hair isn’t the end of the world. Golf umbrellas would no longer block entire streets and incidences of tall people being poked in the eye by the damned things would plummet, causing me to shout less at short people, making the world a more peaceful and harmonious place.

6. Hitler’s Hand. If Hitler’s hand had been this size, the strain brought about by all of the saluting would have caused him to bring about a rapid demilitarisation of Nazi Germany, which would have given him the time to set more peaceful goals and to consider important questions, such as: Why do the British think that one of my testicles is in the Albert Hall? What does my moustache really say about me? Why does Himmler’s hat have a triangle embedded in it?

7. Indiana Jones’s Hat. If Indiana Jones had worn a hat this size then Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull would never have been made, as he would barely have made it past the opening scenes of Raiders of the Lost Ark and, even if he had, would never have escaped the large boulder thing in the middle of the film. If I had worn a hat this size to see Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull, my viewing experience would have been immeasurably improved, as would that of the couple behind me.

*I got all the way to the end without saying penis. Yay!

July 23, 2010
7 Reasons It’ll Be Great Under David & Nick

Yesterday I watched David and Nick in the garden. I don’t know about you, but I kind of liked it. I felt a sense of profound optimism. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I am deluded. Maybe my sense of profound optimism combined with my natural optimism has made me go completely loopy, but I think it might just work. I think it might just be great under Dave and Nick. And here’s why:

1. It’s In The Names. The meaning of David is beloved. The meaning of Nick is victory of the people. That sounds good to me. Incidentally the meaning of Gordon is large fortification. Which probably explains why it took so bloody long to get rid of him.

2. It’s In The Colours. Anyone who went to school and paid attention when they accidentally knocked over the blue and yellow paint bottles, will know that, when combined, they make green*. You know what this means. The environment. David and Nick are going to save us from Global Warming. Caroline Lucas must be furious.

3. It’s In The Hands. As luck would have it, David and Nick seem to favour opposite hands. As the above shows, David likes his right and Nick likes his left. This means of course that they have two spare hands that meet in centre ground. Genius.

4. It’s In The Hair. It may be May, but that means sod all in this country. The weather is still unpredictable/predictably rubbish. As I have pointed out, yesterday David and Nick were in the garden. The sun was out but it was chilly and a tad windy. Miraculously though, for forty minutes, their hair acted superbly. Not once did either of them so much as touch their coiffures. It was the kind of strong, stable hair that this country so badly needs.

5. It’s In The Wives. Neither Samantha or Miriam – that’s Mrs Cameron and Mrs Clegg if you are not on first name terms yet – seem particularly keen on the limelight. Which is good. Because they have a job to do. Run our country. Don’t be fooled, David and Nick don’t really know what they’re doing. And they are married men. Their wives tell them what to do. So for the next five years Great Britain will be run by a creative director and a Spanish lawyer. Mandelson and Campbell, eat your hearts out.

6. It’s In The Looks. It’s quite useful that they are called the cabinet because that is what most of them look like. And so they should. It’s brains you need in politics, not beauty. The last thing we need is for Theresa May to be distracted by a six figure sum to pose naked for Playboy or for Ken Clarke to get his braces off for the centre-fold of Cosmopolitan. Thankfully – for all our sakes – that isn’t going to happen. It’s going to be all work and no play for David and Nick’s boys. And girl.

7. It’s In The Logos. No one in the world has picked up on this yet. But that is why I am me and the rest of you do interesting things with your time. The Conservative logo is a tree. The Liberal Democrat logo is a bird. Birds like trees. It’s where they live. You couldn’t make this stuff up. If this coalition was destined to fail the Liberal Democrat logo would have been an axe. But it’s not. It’s a bird. And David has let it into his foliage. Bravo.

*Yes, if it is pure blue and pure yellow it would turn black, but that’s the point. It’s a coalition. All purity has been thrown out of the window.

NB: I might not believe all of the above nonsense.

May 13, 2010
7 Reasons That The BBC Election Night Coverage Was Weird

1. Fiona Bruce. Bizarrely, for their election special, the BBC decided to segregate the sexes, with the men downstairs and the women upstairs. Queen of the woman-zone was – of course – Fiona Bruce. She was obviously so determined to be seen as the prettiest of them all that she appeared to be wearing all of the make-up. I don’t just mean foundation, concealer, blusher and mascara (I have just reached the limit of my make-up vocabulary), I mean the BBC make-up department’s entire stock of everything. It was extraordinary. Her face appeared to be entombed in concrete. She’s noted for being calm and cool, but if she’d become hysterical during the broadcast it wouldn’t have become apparent until next Wednesday. They’re probably still trying to excavate her chin now.

2. Dimbleby. Down in the man-area David Dimbleby was firmly in command. Seated at the big table, he exuded authority and unflappable professionalism. Of course, there’s no reason that he shouldn’t have, he’s been covering elections since Gladstone was in power. I checked Wikipedia on election night to find out Dimble’s age and discovered that he is a hundred and fifty-four, and that he is immortal. Thanks Wikipedia.

The iMonolith. It's very perceptive.

3. 2010: A Geek Odyssey. Also upstairs in the woman-zone was Emily Maitlis. She was in possession of some extraordinary equipment; she had something that looked like a giant iPad (an iPad Maxi, perhaps). I wondered at first if it was a regular sized one and they’d shrunk Emily Maitlis, but that turned out not to be the case. It looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite work out why. Then it struck me. It was like a cross between an iPad and the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey. Presumably across the nation, Apple-obsessed-geeks were gazing in awe at the iMonolith, drooling, and thinking “I want one”. That was pretty much what I was doing too, though I wasn’t looking at the iMonolith.

4. Tradition. One of the best election night traditions that the viewer can participate in is the time-honoured custom of being aggravated by the ridiculous and vapid CGI effects that Jeremy Vine uses to illustrate election night events. Appearing baffled, rolling your eyes and criticising the stupidity of the CGI is the viewer’s traditional role on election night – it’s like being Paxman – but this year, something strange happened. I understood all of the graphics; I wasn’t annoyed by them; I didn’t feel patronised by them; in fact, they were quite good. I don’t pay my licence fee to not be annoyed by the election night graphics. It is my right. Next time, I expect them to spend more money on them and make them as vast, preposterous and inscrutable as usual.

5. Paxman. The third inhabitant of the woman-zone was everybody’s favourite pantomime dame, Jeremy Paxman. My god he was furious. Perhaps he was cross because he’d been put upstairs with the ladies away from the big table, or perhaps it was because Dimbleby refuses to die. Whatever the reason, he was angry, short-tempered and petulant throughout the broadcast. It’s a shame to see that a once fine broadcaster has become such a parody of himself. Even having two laptops wasn’t enough to placate him. He looked like a man who didn’t want to be there and I hope he gets his wish.

6. The Luvvie Boat. To cover an election that the Tories (who have promised to slash the BBC budget) were widely expected to win, the BBC chose to spend a vast amount of money giving free booze to celebrities on a swanky boat moored on the Thames. They’re obviously idiots. Captaining the good ship Lollygag was Andrew Neil, a man so creepy that spiders shriek and stand on chairs when they encounter him. It was Neil’s job to elicit the opinions of drunken celebs on the election and in this he was successful. Unfortunately, as is often the case after a lot of drink has been taken, the views being expressed were not as coherent and insightful as they might otherwise have been. Probably the best slurrer of the evening was Kirsty Allsop. I can’t remember exactly what point she was trying to make, and she probably can’t either. The soberest person on the boat appeared to be Bruce Forsyth, but his opinion wasn’t helpful either because he’s clearly mad. There is nothing in the world that can be improved by knowing Brucie’s opinion on it. Nothing.

7. The Result. We’re still waiting for the result, it’s been four days! Hurry up.

May 10, 2010
Election Special: 7 Reasons I Managed To Stay Up All Night

Yesterday, there was a general election. You may have noticed. The results came in over night. I was there. Throughout. This is how I did it.

10:00pm. So we have an Exit Poll – which it turns out is very different from an exit pole. It’s going to be Hung Parliament time. I can hardly contain myself. So I don’t and have a biscuit. Ten minutes into the programme and the BBC have a screen fail. Unfortunately, there was no screen fail while Dorothy was walking along the Yellow Brick Road. Or was it Jeremy Vine bouncing down Downing Street? Who cares. The BBC try and talk to Michael Gove. He’s mute. I don’t blame him. Jeremy Paxman is asking silly questions. Oh no, Gove has stopped being mute. And worse luck, so has Harriet Harman. I note her choice of nose this evening. I’m not sure why I note it, but I do. Some twats in Sunderland seem to think they are on Record Breakers. Tossers.

11.00pm. The first hour wasn’t too bad. I feel relatively fresh. Mind you, I am not usually in bed by this time anyway. Not that I need to share my bedroom habits with you. And I hope you don’t want to share yours with me. (But if you do we have an email address: [email protected]). I’ve got the munchies now. My fridge shouts sausages at me. Not literally. That would wake the neighbours. I ignore them anyway. Another biscuit. Labour are winning 1-0-0-0 by the way. Jeremy Vine is playing virtual dominoes. Esther Rantzen is on my screen. It brings back memories of Hearts Of Gold. In the meantime, Fiona Bruce seems to be finding everything absolutely hilarious. I don’t know why. This is boring.

Midnight. And we are into a new day. The day we get a new government. Or not. Ken Clarke just made me giggle. Some sly comment about Paxman cutting away from him to show Gordon Brown arrive at his count. David Cameron has gone to the pub. It’s 00:33. Late license? Blimey I need a drink. Stricnine ideally. Only three seats in so far. Why is it so slow? Eyelids beginning to feel a little heavy now. David Dimbleby is angry. Very angry. It’s a scandal apparently. I think he’s talking about people getting turned away from polling stations, but I am distracted by thoughts of him in the boardroom. Not in a dirty way. In a Sir Alan Sugar getting annoyed with the candidates way. I wonder what Sir Alan Sugar is doing tonight. Subbuteo is my guess. I used to love that game. Time for another biscuit.

1:00am. The Tories still haven’t won a seat, but boy they’re swinging hard. Mind you the Baltimore Orioles swing hard every year and look where that has got them in the AL East. I’m talking about baseball now. How did that happen? Oh yes, I was thinking about swinging. Cameron just stroked his wife’s bottom. Nice touch. I feel drunk. Which is odd considering I haven’t had a drink since Saturday night. I think I need to start now though. Twenty-three seats declared. David Blunkett has admitted defeat. I think he has fired off a bit too early to be honest. But as the camera won’t pan downwards, I’ll never be able to confirm this.

2:00am. And we’ve made it to 2am. The Tories have won some seats, Labour have won some more seats and the Lib Dems appear to be going backwards. Which is odd. Nick Robinson agrees with me. It is odd. But enough of this election nonsense, I am back on the tea. Not that I ever really left it. It’s just been a while since my last cup. Like forty minutes. Now I’m having a look at Twitter. There is a lot of hate out there isn’t there? My political views – and they are mainstream – make me anything ranging from a ‘deluded prick’ to a ****. I chuckle to myself heartily. The Sex Education Show is on Channel 4. I’m not watching it, I just pressed guide to see what else was on. Now someone’s talking Welsh. What’s the point?

3:00am. My freeview box wants to do a daily service update. Cameron wants to talk. Seeing as I watched Brown do his speech after he held on to his seat, I’ll give Cameron his moment. He doesn’t seem to know what he’s talking about though. Fair enough, he hasn’t been to sleep for months. We’ve got a race to the first hundred on now. It’s neck and neck. Not anymore it’s not… oh, yes it is! No, it’s not! Yes, it is! I’m doing Murray Walker impressions. And The Tories win, win, win! Well that was fun. That’s kept me going for the last thirty-minutes. Now I’m screwed. I’m not going to survive another hour before we get to 200. Fiona Bruce is still high I see.

4:00am. And now I enter my 7th hour. Nick Clegg holds on to his seat. But he doesn’t look too happy. Maybe someone ate his Mars bar. That is just about the worst feeling ever. I have a headache now. Sleep deprivation beginning to bite. And now it’s raining. I wonder if the Tories need less seats under the Duckworth-Lewis system? I ask Marc. He doesn’t know. His cat thinks he knows though. Marc has been talking to his cat. I wish I had a cat. Would be so much more interesting than talking to myself. It’s definitely going to be a hung parliament then. In that case I’m going to bed. I leave the situation standing at 224-167-36-26. It’s been fun. No, actually, it hasn’t.

May 7, 2010
Election Special: 7 Reasons It’s Important To Vote Today

7Reasons.org is avowedly apolitical, but the 7 Reasons team are not. As individuals, the 7 Reasons team concur on some things politically – the colossal importance of Sussex in the world order and subsidies for internet humourists are two of them – and differ on other things. So when we go and vote today, we’ll probably vote differently: That’s a good thing, we live in a democracy. The important thing is that we’re voting: Here’s why.

1. Local Issues. Never mind the fatuous faux-presidential debates featuring Smug, Clunking and Irrelevant, you won’t be able to vote for – or against – any of them anyway (unless you live in Witney, Kircaldy and Cowdenbeath or Sheffield Hallam, that is). You’ll be voting for the person that you feel can best represent your interests, both locally and nationally; the person you think can pressure your local council into mending pot-holes or providing stocks for people that park in cycle lanes (I’m still waiting for a reply to that letter), because that’s pretty much what your only contact with your elected representatives will be. You don’t decide who’s going to be Prime Minister, the parliamentary representatives of the majority party do that, but you can decide who represents you and your interests there.

2. Expenses. The parliamentary expenses scandal showed us that there’s serious cross-party corruption in Parliament. If the incumbent of your local seat came out of the expenses scandal badly, this is your chance to remove them from office. Even if you don’t care about politics, you should surely care about integrity; and how many more duck houses and moats do you want to pay for? I’ve always wanted an orangery by the way, if anyone’s buying.

3. Complaint. If you don’t vote then you can’t complain about things afterwards. I haven’t met a British person that can go for five hours without complaining about something, let alone five years. If you have to go that long without complaining you’ll probably explode, or perhaps you’ll find an inner serenity and be elected the new Dalai Lama. Either way, not complaining is uncharted territory and it’s probably dangerous.

4. Other Countries. In the 2005 general election the turnout was 61.3%, which means that 38.7% of people that were eligible to vote didn’t do so. Okay, some of those abstainers probably had good reasons – illness, unforeseen events etc. – but that’s still quite a shameful figure, and if you don’t vote, you shame the nation. After all, if North Korea can get an electoral turnout of nearly 100% then so can we. Or perhaps that’s a bad example. But elections are infrequent in the U.K. and it really isn’t too much trouble to go out and vote. It’s not like we live in Switzerland where they have to vote (on average) seven times per year. Voting’s not difficult and you don’t have to do it often – it’s much like washing a duvet.*

5. See A School. When was the last time you were inside a school? If you’re old enough to vote then you’re too old to attend one. Election day is the only day when many grown-ups can turn up at schools without being asked to leave. Our local school has a hopscotch court painted onto the playground, which is a great place to play while you contemplate how to vote.

6. Change. All of the main parties have told us – many times during this campaign – that a vote for them is a vote for change. I love the idea of being paid for my vote and I’m going to put my change toward a tiramisu. Or a wok. No, a tiramisu. Definitely.

7. Sacrifice. Many, many brave and noble people laid down their lives and sacrificed a great deal so that they – and we – would be able to live in a democracy. We only finished paying off the Americans for the Second World War in December 2006, so most people eligible to vote today have made sacrifices too. We dishonour the efforts of many people by not voting. Also, if we don’t exercise our democratic right to vote, we leave others to dictate policy to us and by our apathy, we impose dictatorship on ourselves. Second World War propagandists would have probably put it like this.

*I’m wrong. It’s way easier to vote than it is to wash a duvet, or even to carry one of the blasted things: You need arms like Mr Tickle.

May 6, 2010
7 Reasons 2010 Will Be Great

1. The Winter Olympics. We’re only a few months away from Vancouver 2010 and what an Olympics it is going to be. Great Britain have their most successful games ever after clinching Gold medals in both the male and female snowball fighting events. Unfortunately they lose out to Canada in the final of the gritting competition, but the then Prime Minister Gordon Brown still hails the achievement as “remarkable” and “a terrific reflection of what global warming can do for our country”.

2. David Acorah will attempt to contact Michael Jackson again. In a live event, that is watched by sixteen people, Acorah will accidentally moonwalk off his balcony. Although he doesn’t die in the accident he does land on David Icke. Celebrations all round.

3. Osama Bin Laden is found alive. Rather alarmingly though, he’s found to be living in a quiet hamlet in Shropshire. His whereabouts are only discovered after he sends Barack Obama a message on twitter but forgets to uncheck the ‘show location’ box. A transatlantic battle between Jonathan Ross and David Letterman then ensues as the chat show hosts argue over who should have the first interview. Letterman finally wins after the BBC refuse to let Osama have a free taxi ride home afterwards.

4. England will win the football World Cup. Yes, so it is only thanks to Steven Gerrard’s elaborate dive in the dying seconds – a move which results in the ball flying into the back of the net via his posterior – but no one in Britain cares. Not even the Welsh or the Scottish. Gerrard is soon dubbed Golden Arse and the people of England go on a seven-day spending spree that lifts the country out of the recession. The new Prime Minister, Big Dave C, recommends himself for a knighthood as a result. It’s rejected.

5. Jennifer Aniston changes her tie. Woohoo!

6. Submarine Girl. We’ll have to wait until October for this one, but when it arrives it will dominate our lives. For a couple of hours on a Thursday night you won’t be able to move for the coverage. Basically the news channels are going to pick up on the story that a girl has apparently started heading down the Californian coast in her father’s experimental submarine. Thankfully she has left the periscope up which means the planes overhead can follow her progress and beam back live coverage to show on TVs across the world. After an hour, the submarine eventually becomes grounded on Santa Monica beach. A policeman is first on the scene. He examines the sub. There is no one onboard. Speculation mounts that she may have fallen out of the escape hatch and drowned. Two hours later though and she is found alive. Inside her fathers storm chasing balloon.

7. X-Factor cancelled. The reality show is shown the door after 43 million people sign up to a Facebook group that demands Simon Cowell is replaced in the line-up by the actor Simon Callow. Cowell laments the protest as “stupid” and in an explosive interview with Fern Britton – that brings back memories of Frost/Nixon – he claims, “the only reason my trousers are this bloody high is because unlike the losers in this country I can afford more material.” Cowell is asked to leave the UK immediately by Her Majesty The Queen. ITV bring back Blind Date. With Dale Winton.

January 1, 2010