Tag: First

7 Reasons To Refer To Ourselves In The Third Person

What’s the worst thing that you can do during a conversation with anyone? Well okay, there are probably many things that spring to mind, but up at the top of the list, somewhere between murder and suddenly removing your trousers is referring to yourself in the third person, which is an abominable thing to do. But is it? What if we all did it? It might not necessarily be the worst thing that could happen. Here are seven reasons why.

1. It Would Lessen The Impact. What’s your first reaction to hearing someone refer to himself in the third person? That’s right: Shock. On encountering anyone structuring a sentence in this manner the encountee is usually flabbergasted, dumbstruck, stupefied and not a little appalled. Self-doubt can even feature: Wait! Did he just refer to himself in the third person? Surely not. If we all referred to ourselves in the third person, it would come as less of a shock.

2. It Would De-stigmatise It. Once (or if) you recover from the resultant shock and self doubt that arises from an encounter with someone that refers to himself in the third person (Craig David Listener Syndrome, to use the correct medical term) there’s another reaction: He did! What a egomaniacal pillock! What a pompous pudding head! What an numb-skulled narcissistic nitwit! If we all referred to ourselves in the third person, we wouldn’t draw this unkind – though perfectly reasonable – conclusion about the few people that do this now.

3. It Would Be Useful. I have a deep-seated social flaw (other than the ability to make hostile idiots furious by writing about some meal deal). I can’t remember names. Well, actually, I can remember some names, though usually not the ones of anyone I’m conversing with at the time, or if I do it’s invariably the wrong one. For six years I referred to my nieces as Natalie and The Ginger One, but it turns out that I was wrong there too. It was Nadia, not Natalie. Imagine how brilliant it would be if everyone used their own name in conversation, as no one would ever forget another name again. It would be even better than name badges, which – to people that can’t remember names and feel uncomfortable about their inability to remember them – are just a cruel trick:

“Have you forgotten my name again, Marc?”

“No…er…Joanne, I was just…staring at your breast.”

If we all referred to ourselves in the third person, this would stop.

4. It Would Prick Pomposity. And pompous pricks need their pomposity pricked. It’s safe to say that if he had had to utter the sentence “Muammar bin Mohammad bin Abdussalam bi Humayd bin Abu Manyar bin Humayd bin Nayil al Fuhsi Gaddafi needs to visit the little boys room” every time he had needed to use the toilet he would have soon tired of it and renamed himself Kevin or something equally simple. Ever heard of a tyrant called Kevin? No. If we all referred to ourselves in the third person, there’d be less self-aggrandisement and egomania.

5. It Would Improve The Internet. One of the absolute best things about the internet is Youtube, where you can see or hear just about anything (so long as it doesn’t contain anything that Sony BMG have even breathed near). But what’s the worst thing about Youtube? Yes, the seemingly boundless trolling and abuse. The blinkered partisanship and casual racism. Having to refer to oneself in the third person would change all this. Comments like “Chad Thompson says that you should get back in the kitchen and make me a sandwich” would soon put a stop to that odious meme. Or, if not, they would soon be followed by “Chad Thompson’s Mom says Chad Thompson is grounded and can’t use the internet for two weeks. Chad Thompson’s Mom says that Chad Thompson’s Mom won’t be going to the kitchen to make Chad Thompson a sandwich any time soon. Chad Thompson’s Mom says that Chad Thompson can go to the kitchen and make Chad Thompson’s Mom a sandwich.” If we all referred to ourselves in the third person, there’d be less nastiness. Or more sandwiches.

6. It Would Be A Guide To Pronunciation. Are you unable to pronounce simple names? Do you find it hard to enunciate even the simplest and most commonly-heard monikers? In that case, hello BBC Radio 5Live’s Stephen Nolan, welcome to 7 Reasons! Oh, and help is at hand. Now that your callers will have to pronounce their own names when proffering an opinion you’ll soon learn that Marc is not pronounced mork, Will is not pronounced well and Siobhan is actually pronounced…no…no one knows the answer to that, but if we all referred to ourselves in the third person we’d find out.

7. It Would Be Good For Me. I have a two syllable name. Or, to be quite clear, two names of one syllable each. This would mean that in any conversation I’d spend very little time saying my own name and more time saying the important, fascinating and scintillating things about…er…er…tiramisu and cats and stuff? Well, whatever, at least I’d know who I was saying them to. That would be a start.

October 24, 2011
7 Reasons To Celebrate The 50th Anniversary Of Yuri Gagarin’s Flight Into Space

On 12th April 1961, Yuri Gagarin became the first man in space. To celebrate his achievement there are a variety of events happening all over the world, but here at 7 Reasons we thought we’d give him our own homage.

1. You’re Hired! Way before Mark Burnett invented The Apprentice, Sergei Korolev invented the The Spaceman. It wasn’t actually called that, but it should have been. The premise of The Spaceman was simple, find the world’s first spaceman. After weeks of tasks – that may or may not have included filming an advert for a brand of CCCP cereal – the final came down to a battle between Yuri Gagarin and Gherman Titov. Right up until the last minute it looked liked Titov was going to get the nod. Then Korolev found out Titov was the son of a teacher and Gagarin was the son of a peasant. The decision was made. One wonders why he didn’t read the applications properly at the beginning. He could have saved a lot of bother.

2. Infinity And Beyond! Due to the length of time The Spaceman would have to spend alone in his shuttle, part of the training process included long stays in an isolation chamber. When each cosmonaut left the chamber they were asked what they did. Titov recited poetry, Popovich sang Ukraniane folk songs, the rest thought about their past. It was only Gagarin who thought of the future. Korolev liked this. He wanted a man who thought he would come back. (Do bear in mind that this was a good few years before the introduction of iPhones and Angry Birds).

3. Clothing. Look what he’s wearing! Just look! Yuri Gagarin went around the earth in a thin orange jump suit! I wear more protective clothing when I use the hob.

4. Humour. Throughout his flight, Gagarin referred to Korolev as ‘Dawn’. What a brilliant way of getting back at the guy who has made you risk your life. In every single transcript of the flight it’s full of Gagarin talking to this mystery character called Dawn. In fairness to Korolev he played along. To be honest, I think they were flirting by the end.

5. Polite. Can you imagine John Terry walking into a press conference and giving the journalists a standing ovation? I doubt it. But that’s exactly what Gagarin did when he attended a British press conference in July 1961. He also brought them flowers. What a nice chap.

6. The Spacewoman. Seeing his new found popularity as an opportunity, Gagarin began his own search to find a woman to send into space. As you can see, there were plenty of candidates. Personally I’d have gone for the woman in the top right hand corner. She looks like she could do with some G-forces.*

7. Serious. At 7 Reasons we don’t like doing serious very often. Serious isn’t funny. Just for today though, I am. I urge you to watch some of the videos here, spend 100 minutes watching this and following as-live coverage of the flight on twitter. It’s all fascinating. Really, really fascinating.**

*This reason may or may not be true.

**I’ve spent so long writing this that Gagarin’s already parachuting into a Russian field. Sorry about that. Worth playing catch up though.

April 12, 2011
7 Reasons That Ricky Ponting is the Second Coming of Christ

As I was walking yesterday, on the road to Sainsbury’s, a strange and life-changing event occurred. I strolled past a man carrying a newspaper and, upon the back of that newspaper there was a picture. An image of Ricky Ponting looking glum. Christ, I thought, doesn’t that miserable bastard ever look happy? And then, suddenly and without warning, there was a blinding flash of light and a sonorous and divine voice did appear from the sky and say, “Ah look, mate, why do you persecute me?”

I fell to the floor: “Who are you,” I stammered meekly.

“I am Punter, whom you are persecuting,” he replied. “Now rise and get thee unto the supermarket, and you will be told what you must do.”

Blimey, that was weird, I thought, and went to the supermarket as I was bidden. And, to cut a very long story short, in the manner of Saul on the road to Damascus, I, Marc* on the road to Sainsbury’s, had had an epiphany. I realised that I had been wrong all along about Ricky Ponting and had done him many disservices over the years. And now I have truly seen the light and it is my divine mission to tell the world of his glory; here are the seven reasons why Punter is the true successor to our lord Jesus Christ.

Ricky, as he appeared to me on the road to Sainsbury's.

1. The Name. If things look right, and sound right, then they generally are. And when I tried to think of a way to link the names of Jesus and Ponting, I have to admit, I struggled. But then I realised that true struggle is the lot of a disciple, and that I’d just have to think harder. And, lo, I thought harder. But other than the names Ponting and Christ being interchangeable as profane expletives in my heathen life prior to my conversion, I could find very little to link them. Then it hit me: A portmanteau word. Ricky Ponting is no longer merely Punter the cricket captain. He now has a divine and biblical-sounding title. He will henceforth be known as…The Pontychrist.

Ah, look. It's the Pontychrist!

2. Miracles. Jesus was famed for his making of miracles. Specifically, for eking out very little, to make a lot. He turned water into wine, and he fed five-thousand people when equipped with a small quantity of bread and fish; a situation in which a lesser bearded-man – such as Captain Birdseye – merely invented the fish finger. And, in the manner of Jesus, Ponting (who, though not bearded of face, is bearded of arm), the new saviour, is attempting to win the Ashes with a mere nineteen runs from the first two tests. And when he pulls it off, it will be hailed as one of the greatest miracles ever seen. Greater, even, than when he takes a stroll across Sydney Harbour without using the bridge after the fifth test, and greater than when he turns Toohey’s into wine. Or Beer into a world-beating bowler.

3. Serendipity. This current Ashes series began in almost an exact word-for-word replay of one of Christ’s most famous quotes because Australia opened the bowling in the first test. And so it was that he, who is without spin, cast the first stone (or ball, as we call them these days). In fact, like his famous forebear, Ponting tries as much as possible to live a blameless life where lesser men (England) are happy to live a life of spin. In the grand tradition of divine saviours, The Pontychrist is more spinned against, than spinning.

4. The Devil. There would be no need for the coming of Ponting if it weren’t for the presence of darkness among man. Who then, is his nemesis, his bête noire, his archfiend, his foe, the Mephistopheles to his Good Shepherd? It can’t be Andrew Strauss; he’s too nice, he is a mere instrument of the devil. For Beelzebub himself is cunning, yet is vain, and so gives himself away through his choice of name. I ask you, what rhymes with horn? That’s right, many, many, many things but, specifically in this case, Vaughan. Behold The Antipontychrist! For though he has now been banished unto the commentary box for the duration of the series – which if the final test ends on day three will have lasted for forty days and forty nights – (which is both biblical and mathematical proof ), he is surely the puppet-master that the righteous Punter does battle against.

The name of the beast is The Antipontychrist and his number is 6-0-0 (and he doesn't look very well)

5. The Blood of the PontyChrist. In Christian religions, those arcane churches that we had before the birth of Pontianity, especially in Roman-Catholicism, (where the head of the church will, when Ponting is acknowledged as the second coming, be known as The Puntiff) the blood of Christ is important. Jesus, we are told, bled for our sins, and so, in the present day, has the Pontychrist. Here he is bleeding, so that our spirits may be lifted heavenward. And who amongst us can say that this image of his selflessness doesn’t fill their heart with joy?

We have redemption through his blood…in accordance with the riches of God's grace.

Yes, this one's just gratuitous.

6. Iconography. And, much like Christ, when so many of his teachings will be open to the whimsical and wilful interpretations of man, many years after he has passed, so the Pontychrist’s visage will be used, in the millennia to come by men warning others to follow his example and to live without sin. He’s omnipresent, they’ll say, he can see everything that you’re doing, they’ll say. And they’re right. In this portent of the future he seems to be staring into your very soul. And, now that you have seen this picture, you will know, that Ricky can see your every thought and deed. He will know if you think ill of the French. He will know when you’re masturbating. He will know when you’ve eaten Twiglets that you shouldn’t have touched. He knows everything: For he is omnipontent.

He can see into your soul, you bad, bad person.

7. Reflection. And later, on reflection at my conversion to Pontianity, I had a moment of doubt, the sort that afflicted people 2000 years ago in Jesus’s time. I wrote this piece yesterday, but when I woke this morning, I found myself questioning things. In short, I had a crisis of faith. I might have taken too much of my flu medication yesterday, I thought. What if I’d dreamt it? I’d look a fool. I’d be mocked and cast asunder by my peers. I decided that, on reflection, I may have got carried away and resolved to discard what I had written and start afresh with a new piece, after I’d had my breakfast. And then I saw a sign:

It's a sign! (a tasty one, too).

So, in summary, I’m buying myself a ute and I’m going to fill it with corrugated iron and tambourines and head off to the hills to build the first (of many) Puntecostal churches. Who’s with me?

*Henceforth to be known as Parc.

December 15, 2010
7 Reasons That A Drawn First Test Was The Best Result For The Ashes

1. England. For England, a draw in the Brisbane test is certainly a good start to proceedings. We’ve already made certain that there will be no repeat of the 5-0 whitewash in 2006/7 (that I can’t remember) and we’ll be all the more confident as a result of that and, with the monkey off our back, we’ll be able to play more freely; without protests from animal rights activists angered by our wearing of the back-monkey.

2. Australia. For Australia, despite being the home team, and despite the stunning manner in which they won their last home series, a draw isn’t a bad start either. Now that many of their cricketing greats have retired, to devote more time to highlighting their hair and creosoting themselves – leaving Australia with players in their team that even Australians have to google – it was always going to be a tough series. A loss would, quite simply, have been devastating for them. At least with a draw the Australian public will retain some hope and confidence and will continue backing their team; whoever they are.

3. Andrew Strauss. A draw’s a good result for Straussy personally. It means we’re still in the hunt for The Ashes and, while this test can be seen as a positive in terms of his captaincy, will give him much needed time to work on his abysmal batting form. Strauss was England’s lowest scorer in both innings at Brisbane scoring 0 and 110 runs respectively, which is 192 runs fewer than his opening partner. A poor show indeed.

4. Ricky Ponting. A draw, for Ricky Ponting, is no bad result. He’s already received a lot of criticism from his countrymen and a draw is unlikely to add to that. Despite him being the most dislikeable man in the history of Australia, I almost felt sorry for him earlier today (? Yesterday? I just don’t know any more) while he was being booed by both of his own crowd. And I would have done. If I were mental. Or he wasn’t Ricky Ponting.

5. @theashes. Yes, the Twitter user with the best name on Twitter will also benefit from the draw. The feckless American who decided to give herself the name @theashes without checking Google or Wikipedia first and now has over 5000 new followers and more Twitter mentions than…er…the actual test match got (remember the cricket anyone?) now has a few days (I still haven’t worked out how many, I have no idea what day it is and am also surprised to note that it’s now light outside) to choose which team she wants to support as the two teams are still level. Then, when a Twitter-mob quickly forms to campaign to send @theashes to The Ashes, she can choose sides without accusations of glory-seeking, before payment is required for a plane ticket and the Twitter-mob dissipates even more quickly than it was formed.

6. Spectacle. The draw leaves the rest of the contest evenly balanced and, as history has shown us, the best, the absolute best Ashes series are the closest fought ones. Was the 2006/7 Ashes series actually exciting? I asked someone who actually remembered the series and he said “No.”… “Mate”. But the 2005 series and the 2009 series were both epic, close-fought affairs in which both teams gave their all and that everyone remembers fondly. In fact, most right-thinking cricket-fans don’t mind their team losing in a close and exciting contest at all.*

7. International Relations. Because of the draw we can continue to talk to Australians and they can continue to talk to us with pride and dignity intact all round. We can pretend that Finn and Swann didn’t get knocked around the park a worrying amount in Australia’s second innings and that South Africa is just west of the Isle of Wight, and Australians can pretend that there were people in the stands on Monday and that they were just very small. And quiet.

*Did I mention I haven’t slept since…Tuesday?

November 29, 2010
Special Guest Post: 7 Reasons I’m Backing Us To Win The Ashes

Hello! It’s Wednesday, and regular 7 Reasons (.org) readers might be surprised to find a guest post here. But today is special. Because today is the day that The Ashes begins, and I can’t begin to tell you how excited the 7 Reasons team are by this. Well, I could begin, but I’d never be able to stop myself and we’d all miss the cricket while I babbled on and on. So, joining us on the 7 Reasons sofa today is Sir Straussy who has taken time out from his busy cricketing and tweeting schedule to explain why he’s backing us to win The Ashes. And by us, I sincerely hope he isn’t referring to the 7 Reasons team; that would be a disaster.

Disclaimer: The views expressed by the England Captain are entirely his own and do not represent those of 7 Reasons (.org)*

1. It’s In The Toss. This is nothing new, but Ricky Ponting and I are tossers. We have to be. It’s in the contract. To be a captain you must be a tosser. And I am very proud to be both. So is Ricky. The difference between us is that, while I’m a good tosser, he’s a useless tosser. The stats don’t lie. Using the motto ‘tails never fails’ I have won 59% of tosses as England captain, Ricky has won a mere 49% in his role as an Australian tosser. And with the toss being so crucial these days, that 10% will give us the edge. But, I hear you ask, what happens if tails fails? Is that it? Shall we give up? Forget about this Test? No, certainly not. Again, let’s examine the stats, in the 41% of matches in which tails never fails has gone tits down, I have led England to victories 64% of the time. And as for Punter? Well, under his tossership, Australia have won just 30% of the Tests in which he has lost the toss. So, just remember, if my tossing goes wonky, don’t worry, I still produce results.

2. Younger, Fitter, Stronger. Assuming we go into the first Test with the team I want and Australia go into the first Test with the team I want, the average age of the England team is going to be twenty years lower than that of our counterparts. And even if Australia don’t go with Dame Edna Everage and Bill Lawry, our boys will still be younger on average. If the probable teams that have been bandied about in the papers for the last few days are to be believed, we’ll step onto the field with the average age of 28 years and six months. Australia will wheel themselves onto the field averaging 31 years. That age difference means we’re much fitter. Just take a look at our bodies. No one can tell me Dougy Bollinger is fitter than pin-up sensation Stuart Broad. Or Simon Katich is fitter than Brighton favourite Jimmy Anderson. Or podge-face Punter is fitter than the hairy-armed version of myself.

3. The Hair Apparent. According to the internet, the American writer, actor and comedian Larry David once said, ‘Anyone can be confident with a full head of hair, but a confident bald man – there’s your diamond in the rough’. He was talking about Matt Prior. The one player in world cricket whose surname inexplicably can’t be used with an O or Y to form a nickname.

4. Names. And talking of nicknames, should you wish to use ours on the Scrabble board we will score you an average of 9.5 points per player. That’s a staggering 0.9 points more than the Aussies. When you also throw into the equation that this includes the nickname-less Prior, it almost defies belief. How is this going to help us win the Ashes though? Well, it’s not directly, it was more an observation I made playing online scrabble with Lady Straussy. But it did get me thinking. Us English and South African-English just whack a Y on the end of a surname and be done with it. We then get on with the cricket. The Aussies though, well judging by some of the nicknames for their players, I imagine they spend a great deal of time in the middle trying to think of something wondrous. That must be why Haddin is called BJ, Bollinger is called Eagle, North is called Snorks and the 27 year-old new boy, Xavier Doherty, is called X. You need to concentrate on the game in this game, not faff around thinking of schoolboy nicknames. In some ways this is why I hope Usman Khawaja plays. Though I suspect he’s called Koala.

5. The KP Factor. With his Movember challenge nearly at an end – a contest Monty has dominated from an early stage – and his blindfold cricket ‘viral’ video for Brylcreem out of the way, KP now has the chance to concentrate on what he loves. And, talking about love, the other day the lads saw that the fat lad Warney had said KP needed loving again. So that’s exactly what we have given him. Lots of it. Aussie, watch out.

6. Midge. That’s the nickname of Mitchell Johnson, presumably because like a midge he has no sense of co-ordination. Anyway, he has vowed to make me crumble. Which is lovely. I’m looking forward to it at tea. But Midge has also vowed to make me suffer under a bouncer barrage. This goes back to the 2006/7 Ashes where I fully admit I got out hooking twice. Midge wants to exploit this perceived weakness. Given that I was caught behind four times in the same series, one could be forgiven to think I am far more susceptible to the one that pitches in the corridor of uncertainty and moves a fraction away off the seam. Mind you, Midge’s corridor of uncertainty is only slightly smaller than Steve Harmison’s, so perhaps that’s what he means anyway.

7. We Are England! To paraphrase Hugh Grant, ‘We may be an England cricket team, but we are a South African one too. A country of Allan Lamb, Basil D’Oliveira, Tony Greig, Robin Smith, Robin Smith’s brother. Nasser Hussain’s index finger. Nasser Hussain’s middle finger come to that. And a friend who bullies us is a Commonwealth country that wants to become a Republic. And since bullies only respond to strength, from now onward, I will be prepared to whip out my guns more often. And the whole of Australia should be prepared for that.’ Actually, it sounds much better like this.

*Unless he makes fun of Ricky Ponting or the French.

November 24, 2010