Tag: Iceland

7 Reasons to be…an Icetalian!

I’ve often been told that I’m more Italian than English. I like coffee, tiramisu and risotto more than I like tea, trifle and Yorkshire puddings; I like Fiat 500s more than I like Minis; I like sun more than rain; I like waving my arms around more than I like…er…not waving my arms around. All the signs are there. But last week I had a bit of a revelation. As I was celebrating March 1^st (and the end of my traditional February abstinence) a friend tweeted me. March 1^st is Beer Day in Iceland, he informed me. That’s funny. March 1^st – the first day of the month that has my name at the start of it (this is Marc, by the way, not Jon. The month with his name in it is Jonuary) – is my Beer Day too. Perhaps I’m not just Italian, I thought, perhaps I’m part-Icelandic too. Maybe I’m…um… an…Icetalian! From Icetalia! Even if I’m not, here are seven reasons that I should be.

1. What’s in a Name? Is there a cooler word than Icetalian? Well, perhaps mantacular or shabazzle, but they’re only really words in my head. If you stack Icetalian up against actual words that other people would recognise it comes out rather well. It contains ice, which is an actual cool thing, and talian, which isn’t a thing at all, though it still manages to be evocative of Vespas and sunglasses. If you’re an Icetalian you’re instantly cool. It’s like being named Jet or Raffaela.

2. Cuisine. Icetalian food would be the best fusion-cuisine in the world. Italian cooking is already renowned the world over, featuring tiramisu, pasta, tiramisu, risotto, tiramisu, ice cream, tiramisu, bean stews, tiramisu and tiramisu. In short, it’s awesome. How, you’re probably wondering, can that be improved? Well, Icelandic food consists of salted fish, salted lamb, more salted fish and some other salted stuff. So essentially Icetalian cuisine would be Italian food but with more salt. And salt, as we know, improves all food. Has anyone with a tall white hat ever stuck a spoon in a pan and, on tasting the contents, said “Hmm. I think it needs less salt”? No, of course they haven’t. Everything always requires more salt. Even salt, probably.

3. Sightseeing. What’s the most famous tourist attraction in Iceland? No, it’s not Kerry Katona’s prawn ring, it’s the Icelandic Phallological Museum; that’s right, a whole museum devoted to the penis. But Iceland’s a cold place, whereas Icetalia (which would have a more temperate climate halfway between that of Iceland and Italy) would be much warmer. This would make the Icetalian Phallological Museum twice as impressive as the Icelandic one, even though it would have the same number of exhibits.

4. Expression. Italians are a voluble and wildly expressive people who, in conversation, communicate as much with their gestures as they do with their words. The people of Iceland, being rather more reticent Scandinavian types do not. They prefer to emote by not expressing anything at all. Ever. Icetalians would be a happy and healthy blend of these two styles of expression. If it goes right, they’ll be similar to the English and will express themselves in a physically moderate and understated way, and if it goes wrong then during conversation half of the average Icetalian’s body will remain absolutely, rigidly still while the other half will be an exuberant, wildly-flailing blur of expression that could resemble Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World.* I’m hoping that it will be the former, obviously. A land where people communicate with each other via the medium of Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World would be dreadful. And deafening.

5. Venice. I love Venice. It’s bloody marvellous. If they (whoever they are) were taking nominations for an eighth wonder of the world, I would nominate Venice. But the Icetalian Venice would be even better, because it would be almost exactly the same as the Italian version, but with ice skating during the winter months and sleighs instead of gondolas. And there’d be fewer American tourists because they’d fall through the ice. It would be a true winter wonderland as well as being a summer one.

6. The Flag. The Icetalian flag would contain the colours red, blue, green and white. That’s all of the primary colours on one piece of cloth plus white, which is the colour of nothing when the lights are on. It doesn’t contain black, which is nothing in the dark, but you can’t have everything. Though with all of the primary colours, perhaps you can. In any event, the Icetalian flag will clash with just about every imaginable outfit so nationalism will be kept to a minimum. It’ll be a nicer place to live.

7. Names. Icetalians would have better names than just about everyone else. In Iceland, the tradition is that the first name of the father becomes the surname of his sons and daughters. Thus the daughters of Gudmund Magnusson get the surname Gudmunsdottir, and the sons of Gudmund Magnusson get the surname Gudmundson. Why this doesn’t lead to irresponsible people giving their children the first names Son and Alison, I don’t know. Then, if their children did the same thing (any why wouldn’t they?), they’d end up with grandchildren called Son Sonson and Alison Sondottir. Within several generations, the Icelandic telephone directory would contain names likes Alison Sonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsdottir and Son Sonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonson and would be visible from space. It would be brilliant. Why no one from Iceland had ever invited me to name anything I don’t know. Icetalian names would also be amazing (and only slightly shorter). Icetalian people would be called things like Ambrosiano Giordanoson and Ausilatrice Zoccolittosdottir. This would make introducing people to each other much more fun and ink manufacturers would be the richest people in the land. Oh, and this would also mean that school would finish at about the same time that the calling of the register ended, so teachers wouldn’t have to prepare lessons and children wouldn’t have to sit through them. The people of Icetalia would be thick, but happy. And work in my ink factory. I’m moving to Icetalia, it’s going to be brilliant!

*And now that I’ve mentioned it, how did Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World even come about? Someone must have done it first. Why didn’t other people just point and laugh at them? And who the hell was the second person to do it? Who, on witnessing someone clippity-clopping about like a deranged horse with a broomstick up their bottom and total paralysis of the arms and head, would think I want to dance like that person? There is nothing about Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World that makes any sense. At all.

March 7, 2011
7 Reasons That The Ash Cloud Is Just Taking The Piss Now

1. Time. The eruption of Eyjafjallajökull was on the 14^th of April and news of the eruption emerged three days later, when newsreaders had finally mastered saying “Eyjafjallajökull”. It’s now the 12^th of May, so that’s almost a month that the cloud’s been menacing Europe for. A month is a long time: It’s a long time in politics; it’s a long time in sport; it’s a long time in Tipperary, and it’s a bloody long time for a cloud of ash to be hanging around, cocking the whole of Europe up. Enough!

The Route Taken By The Ash Cloud

2. Movement. The cloud is just floating about, apparently at random. Its course is seemingly unaffected by the weather and meteorologists can’t predict where it will go to next. I’ve plotted the cloud’s movement over the last few weeks and here’s the result. Just look at it! It’s a doodle. I might as well have commissioned a two year old boy to draw it with a wax crayon, but I didn’t. I did it properly, using Photoshop. The cloud’s making me look like an idiot. And I’m not even married to it.

3. Light. The cloud – when it is between the ground and the sun – apparently blocks out some sunlight. I’m terrified it’s going to turn up near me. I live in Yorkshire and can’t afford to see any less sun; I can already light up a room just by removing my clothes. If I were any paler I’d be a hazard to aircraft – assuming there were any flying, that is. It’s bound to turn up here sooner or later, it’s already been everywhere else. Even Lancashire.

4. Not Dissipating. Three weeks ago, after the cloud passed over the North-West of England, my friend Roger found an ashy residue on his car. We would logically assume that debris from the cloud was dropped on many cars (and on other things), not just his. But the cloud hasn’t shrunk, which means that it’s either capable of self-regeneration, or it’s persecuting Roger. Either way, that’s bad form.

5. Portugal. It’s not just Roger that the cloud’s persecuting. It’s Portugal. I have friends who were stuck there on holiday for an extra week until, finally, the cloud went off to Scotland and they were able to fly back. Another friend was due to fly out to Lisbon this week, but the cloud has decided to go back to Portugal, so he can’t. I don’t know why the cloud is tormenting the Portugese – the French have probably already surrendered to it – but it does seem a little unfair. Perhaps it tasted a glass of Mateus Rose and it’s holding a grudge.

6. The News Agenda. The cloud’s keeping important stories out of the news. I’ve only just found out that there was some sort of election and that we’ve got a new government. Who knew?

7. Air. I’m beginning to suspect that the cloud is sentient – after all, it couldn’t have caused any more chaos if it were conducting a meticulously planned campaign. I’m also beginning to worry that it’s evil. Think about it, the last person that tried to hamper British air efficacy and caused large-scale movement of people around Europe by land was Hitler. We need to act now!

May 12, 2010
7 Reasons 7 Reasons Are Making A Film About The Ash Breathing Volcano

1. The Plot Bit. Think Love Actually meets Planes, Trains & Automobiles (without the planes) meets The Day After Tomorrow. Various people stranded in various places have to find various methods of getting back to the UK for various of reasons. It’ll be a romcom/thriller.

2. The Product Placement Bit. The 7 Reasons team isn’t stupid. We know that slipping in a few products will boost our coffers. That is why Ash’s entire back catalogue will be on display in the majority of scenes. Ashes To Ashes will be shown on all TV screens. Unless it’s in a hotel room where the occupant may choose between Ashes To Ashes, The History Of The Ashes or The Arthur Ash Story.

3. The Cast Bit. All the usual suspects will be there. Hugh Grant. Colin Firth. Emma Thompson. Rowan Atkinson. We’ll find them something to do. We’ll also bring in Colin Farrell to liven up proceedings. He’ll be monk. Though a monk who has escaped from his monastery after being accused of sneaking into the local nunnery of an evening and having his evil way with a couple of habits. The head monk is after him. So is the head nun. The nun isn’t wearing anything. This is not a 3D film.

4. The Political Bit. Hugh Grant will be the leader of the opposition. He has just been in Washington DC (with Gary Barlow) meeting the President – who will be played by either Morgan Freeman or Denzel Washington. It really depends who is cheaper. They won’t have a speaking part. Hugh Grant then needs to get home to vote in the election and then pick up the keys to Downing Street from it’s former occupant. Who will be played by Eddie Izzard. His wife will be Carole Smilie.

5. The Romance Bit. Colin Firth is a writer – probably working on something Shakespearean – he has been on a writer’s holiday in Spain and now needs to get back to London because he also has a part time job in Waterstones. He misses out on hiring the last available car in Barcelona so jumps up and down a bit on the pavement and looks angry. A Spanish girl pulls up in her hire car and – in broken English – asks Mr Firth if he would like a lift to London. Col says yes and before you know it they are on a road trip together. We’re not quite sure how the drive will go but they’ll be having a good old snog come Dover. Of that you can be sure.

6. The Sad Bit. Bill Nighy is the owner of a Formula 1 team. He’s stuck in Shanghai after the Chinese Grand Prix. While he’s waiting for a plane in the Chinese version of Starbucks, he gets a phone call from his daughter. Bill’s wife has been in an accident and is in a critical condition in hospital. Bill starts walking home. At the end of the film he is still walking. This is our ticket to a sequel.

7. The ‘He Should Be Dead. This Is So Unrealistic’ Bit. Dennis Quaid is a volcanic expert. He was inside the volcano when it started to erupt. The Icelandic name for the volcano is Eyjafjallajökul, but for arguments sake we’ll call it Volcano Mrs Robinson. So Dennis was inside Volcano Mrs Robinson when she started blowing off. Dennis’ English wife thinks he’s dead. But as this is a film, she is the only one. He’s blatantly alive. Everyone knows it. We wouldn’t have cast Dennis Quaid just to kill him off in the first five minutes. If we wanted to do that we’d have cast Ben Affleck. Anyway, Dennis makes it back to his wife in one piece. Bar a touch of sunburn/frost-bite.

April 21, 2010
7 Reasons Not To Watch The Snowman This Christmas

1. It’s A Repeat. Every single year it’s on. And I’ll be honest with you, it doesn’t get any better with each passing year. Not even HDTV has made it an enjoyable thing to watch. Which is such a shame really, because The Snowman himself is just about perfect. He is the only snowman I have ever seen who looks good in a hat. And I’m not just saying that. I really believe it.

2. The Song. A little known fact is that the version of ‘Walking In The Air’ used in the film is not sung by Aled Jones, but by choirboy Peter Auty. A more widely known fact is that whoever sings it, it is still bloody annoying. Oh, and another thing. You do not walk in air. You fly.

3. It’s depressing. I am not entirely sure why it is billed as a wonderful Children’s adventure. I mean, The Snowman turns into a puddle at the end. That’s as horrific a way to die as I can possibly think of. I know the writers did it to prevent him coming back in a dodgy sequel, but surely there are better ways. He could have been broken up for a snowball fight or something.

4. The Great Escape. Now, I haven’t actually looked at the TV schedule, but I am pretty sure it’s going to be on at about 3.45pm on some channel. The same time as The Snowman will be on on the other channel. The Great Escape is a far superior film. Its got tunnels and motorbikes and Germans and a character called The Big X in it. The Snowman didn’t have a name. Nor was he German.

5. It’s Mind Blowing. The film is completely hallucinogenic. I imagine this is the kind of thing The Beatles saw everyday when they were working on Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band. Only it didn’t make The Beatles want to smash the TV screen with a tin of Quality Street.

6. It’s Wordless. I don’t know if you have noticed, but there is no talking it. There aren’t even bloody subtitles. It’s just 28 minutes of nothingness. The unrealistic nature of this is infuriating. If you were a young boy – as I once was – you would be saying something if a snowman asked you if you’d like to go for little flight somewhere. You would also have put gloves on. Holding a snowman’s hand without gloves on has to be the quickest way to hypothermia.

7. The Idents. This year it is sponsored by Iceland. (The place where no one’s Mum actually goes, as opposed to the country). It means you have to witness those bang-head-on-wall inducing adverts. Who would have thought that they could be even worse without Kerry Katona in them?

December 24, 2009