7 Reasons

Tag: Kindle

  • 7 Reasons That You Shouldn’t Read (on the toilet)

    7 Reasons That You Shouldn’t Read (on the toilet)

    This is a subject that totally divides the sexes.  For some reason, reading in the toilet is something that women just don’t do, and they’re right.  I agree.  I read a lot.  I’m also a man.  To some people, this could mean that I might reasonably be expected to be found reading on the toilet, or would be, if people were in the habit of finding other people on the toilet which fortunately – for the most part – they’re not.  But I won’t be found reading in the toilet ever, because I won’t be reading on the toilet in the first place – unless I’m dealing with some sort of emergency that requires me to use the toilet and read important instructions simultaneously.  Like coming face to face with a self-assembly lion.  Other than that, however, reading while using the toilet is something that shouldn’t ever be done.  Here are seven reasons why.

    This: Don’t do it.

    1.  It’s Disgusting.  We’ve all seen those shock-docs in which restaurant toilets are subjected to ultra violet/infra-red/magic-poo-seeing light, and they don’t make comfortable viewing.  They show specks of faecal matter (close your eyes if you’re at all squeamish) spattered (you can open them again now) on far walls, high ceilings, behind sinks and well, just about everywhere, and the nearer to the toilet the surface is, the more bottom-mud there will be on it.  So if you’re reading a book while you’re using the toilet, or even leaving a book near the toilet, it’s going to get faeces on it.  That is an undesirable trait in a book.

    2.  It’s Disgusting Multiplied.  Having left your excrement all over your book, once you’ve finished it you’ll return it to your library or lend it to a friend or a colleague who’ll probably read it in a normal place like a chair or a bed or something.  So not only are they taking your shit with them into their bed, they could well become ill while reading it.  “I seem to have picked up a horrible stomach bug,” your colleague will tell you as they call in sick,” still, at least it gives me some time to read the book you lent me.”  You’ll have poisoned them.  And you’ll probably end up covering their workload at the office too, while they lounge around at home.  The only winner in this scenario is Jeremy Kyle.

    3.  It’s Just Weird.  Well it is.  Why, out of all the things that men do so brilliantly well, is the only example of their multi-tasking prowess the ability to poo and read simultaneously?  Is it that the very act of sitting down on the toilet feminises them and renders them suddenly capable of doing more than one thing at once?  And why don’t women read on the toilet?  They’re always telling us they can do fifteen things at the same time (often while they’re burning something in the kitchen or standing on the cat’s tail) but put them on the toilet – where no one can see them – and they suddenly become mono-taskers.  Does this mean that the multi-tasking stuff is all for show?  If you put a toilet and a book together in the same place and you get more questions than answers.  Unless, of course, the book is a book of answers.  They can only be trumped by a toilet of questions.

    4.  What If Someone Else Wants The Bathroom? There are other people in the world too.  Other people that might conceivably want to use the toilet for the actual purpose of using the toilet.  It’s no fun for someone to have to hang around outside the bathroom crossing their legs and screwing up their face while shrieking, “I need the toilet!  I need the toilet!” with increasing desperation (well, it is, but not for them).  It’s like Superman.  Does he ever think about people that need to make a phone call when he’s using a phone box to change into his costume?  No he bloody doesn’t.  And their phone call might be an emergency.  He’s an inconsiderate bastard.  Essentially, if you read on the toilet you’re just like Superman.*

    5.  Health & Safety.  It’s not just about books any more.  There are hi-tech reading devices out there that the hapless and misguided might conceivably try to use while in the smallest room.  Kindles, for example.  But no one knows what possible effects would occur if they dropped an electronic book into the toilet (I googled it**).  It would stop working, that’s obvious, but it also contains a battery so, I assume, it’s possible that it could short-circuit and send a small electrical charge through the water in the toilet bowl if dropped.  Now if you were connected to the water in the bowl in some way (by a stream of liquid perhaps, you are in the toilet, after all), you’d get an electrical shock. Right in the very last place you’d want one.  They’re not even allowed to torture people like that at Guantanamo Bay.  They’re restricted to water-boarding them there, or forcing them to spell Guantanamo.  The monsters.

    6.  What If You Run Out Of Paper? Outside of Kerry Katona, is there anything more tragic and desperate than someone that has just discovered there’s no toilet paper once they’ve completed a movement?  Probably not.  At that moment, people will use anything that’s near to hand (perhaps even their hand).  If they’re reading a book, there’s no question that they’ll tear a page or two out and use that to wipe themselves with.  But what if they’re reading the Bible?  That would be blasphemous.  What if they’re reading the Encyclopedia Britannica?  They could end up ignorant about aardvarks or Zurich.  What if they’re reading Dan Brown?  That would be hopeless as the pages are covered in shit already.  It’s just better not to have a book within reach in the first place.

    7.  Pity The Writers.  At 7 Reasons, we’re generally just happy and flattered that people read us at all.  But we’re also British and, as such, feel duty-bound to uphold notions of taste and decency and to urge our readers toward decorous behaviour.  So we have to draw a line.  And that line is at the bathroom door.  We can’t write while imagining our readers on the toilet and you probably don’t want to be imagined using the toilet by us while we write***.  For our sake, as well as yours, you should never – even though you probably weren’t considering it anyway – read 7 Reasons in the toilet.  You should, of course, continue to outfit yourself in your Sunday best before settling down in your parlours and libraries to read us, just as you’re doing now.  Nice hat, madam, by the way.

    *This argument hasn’t gone well.

    **I did find many instances of people dropping their iPhones down the toilet but that just made me laugh a lot.  Or is it lAugh?

    ***That sentence took nine rewrites before it even made partial sense.

  • Russian Roulette Sunday: Blimey!  It’s The Future.  Now.

    Russian Roulette Sunday: Blimey! It’s The Future. Now.

    Last week, 7 Reasons took a step backward.  We went back in time to the antediluvian age of print when our words  – if not our names – appeared in Esquire magazine.  How can we top that, we wondered.  The present will just seem humdrum now.  So we decided to ignore the present and plan for the future.

    In historical envisaging of the future, it’s all hoverboards, cars that fly and spangly jumpsuits.  But it’s fast becoming clear that the true instrument of the future will be the Kindle.  That’s how things will be read in years to come.  We determined that the way forward for 7 Reasons was to embrace the Kindle and prepare for it.  Well, Jon thought that we should wear spangly jumpsuits and LED watches, but fortunately he lost the coin-toss.

    So we’ve got together with the people at Amazon and we’ve made it happen.  From today, we have a new thing:

    The kindle edition of the popular humour website, 7Reasons.org

    That’s right Kindlers, 7 Reasons is now available on your Kindles.  So when you’re out there Kindling in your futuristic world of the future, you need never miss a single 7 Reasons post.  They’ll just appear on your Kindle via the combined mediums of witchcraft, space-age jiggery-pokery and the wireless internet.  You can subscribe to 7 Reasons : Kindle Edition here; you can even have a free 14 day trial.  For the rest of us backward peasants there’ll still be the old-fashioned website but you, Kindlers, the beautiful people of the future, will be experiencing 7 Reasons in many amazing ways.

    Things the beautiful-future-people will be able to do with their Kindles:

    • Read 7 Reasons in direct sunlight.
    • Read 7 Reasons for hours and hours without straining their eyes.
    • Spot 7 Reasons spelling-mistakes with their built-in dictionary (but not as a drinking game, a post by Jon could prove fatal).
    • Be better than the rest of us.
    • Think of a witty and brilliant fifth thing.

    Things that the rest of us will be able to do without Kindles:

    • Stand in mud.
    • Eat a raw turnip.
    • Point at the beautiful-future-people.
    • Lick a fetid dog.
    • Wail with despair and cry until our souls hurt.

    So, that’s the future: Available now.  7 Reasons will return tomorrow in many forms.  Like the Devil.

  • Guest Post: 7 Reasons I Don’t Want a Kindle

    Guest Post: 7 Reasons I Don’t Want a Kindle

    It’s Saturday, and the 7 Reasons team are taking a well-deserved day off, but fear not:  In charge of the 7 Reasons sofa today is Roger Williams; a Manchester-based writer, lyricist and owner of a full and luxuriant ginger beard.  Here are seven reasons that he doesn’t want a Kindle.

    An Amazon Kindle, a pencil, and in profile.

    1.  Fahrenheit 451. The primary definition of Kindle in my whopping great Collins English Dictionary (a tome so weighty and downright bookish that while it would be impossible to swallow, it would be entirely feasible to use it to, say, smash a Kindle to smithereens) is ‘to set alight or start to burn.’ Mmm. You don’t need the Enigma machine to decode the sub-conscious desires of the Satanic device’s inventors here. They clearly want us to burn books. That’s right 7 Reasons readers. Biblioclasm! Libricide! Buying a Kindle is tantamount to supporting the book incinerating activities of the Spanish conquistadors, the worst McCarthyite zealots, the Nazis and the Dove World Outreach Centre church in Florida.

    2.  If it ain’t broke don’t e-fix it. Books are the perfect marriage of function and form. They have a quality of soul which an electronic device could never match. The volumes you gather as you travel through life are a story in themselves. The spine creases of the well-thumbed volume; the stain left by the coffee you spilt when you first saw her; the enthusiastic underlinings of well-loved sections and the page corner-foldings of inspiration; the sheer sentimental, colourful, characterful accumulation of books. You can’t furnish a room with a Kindle. Unless it’s a room for a hamster. That hates books.

    3.  Books smell good (musty second hand bookshops in Holmfirth don’t count.) I’ve never smelt a Kindle but I imagine it would smell of evil.

    4.  Books have done the job perfectly well for hundreds of years. The more complicated you make something the more likely it is that something will go wrong. At no point in the annals of history (beautifully preserved because they’ve been written down, on paper) has anyone ever complained “This book has crashed” or “I wish this book would go faster.” No one has ever advised you to turn a malfunctioning novel off and on again.

    You can still read a book that’s hundreds of years old. You can’t watch videos from the early 1990s. The written word is timeless, but technology moves so fast that by the time you’re two thirds of the way through A Suitable Boy your Kindle will be in museum for obsolete things. Being bullied by a Sinclair C5.

    5.  There’s a physicality to books, a reassuring heft, a presence, whereas Kindles by comparison are…spineless. Books are transferable. How many times do you read something you love then lend it to a friend you know is going to share your enthusiasm? There’s no room for that in Kindleland. You either have to loan out your Kindle, and all that it contains, or they have to buy the f-ing e-book themselves.

    6.  Bathing. I admit this isn’t really an issue for me because I’m male and therefore genetically unable to multitask, but word is you can’t read a Kindle in the bath. I plagiarised this point from a letter written to The Guardian by a woman.  I wasn’t doing anything else at the time. She was probably cooking a three-course meal and reading the paper when she wrote it.

    7.  And alright, I admit it, I woke up one morning and realised I was a Luddite.

    Now…I’ve heard a rumour they’ve just installed one of those new weaving machines at a mill along the turnpike road in Bolton. Anyone want to come and help me smash it up before the idea catches on?