Tag: logo

Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why It’s Best To Skip The London Olympics

London 2012 Olympic Logo (via Andrea Vascellari)

1. Public Apathy. The 2012 London Olympics begins on Friday, 27th July 2012 and already excited Londoners are basing their holiday plans around this auspicious event – one in ten are planning to go on holiday during the Games to avoid them completely.^ The fact that so many of the ‘hosts’ of the competition are planning to do a runner suggests that the marathon course could be as deserted as the opening scenes of the film 28 Days Later – not a great look.

2. The Weather. There’s a reason why the Olympics are traditionally held in sunny countries. Have you ever seen an Olympics 100m final run in the pouring rain? Let’s see how fast Usain Bolt is when he’s knee-deep in smoggy water as the starting pistol fires.

3. The Logo. Now, be honest; would you stick this piece of art on your fridge door if your child brought it home from school? And for a logo which was designed to reflect the cultural diversity of the games it seems to have upset an amazingly diverse bunch of people. Iran has objected on the grounds that it thinks the logo spells out the word ‘Zion’ and a British man rang a London radio station to claim that he had suffered a seizure while watching footage on television that used the symbol. “It came up on TV and I was thinking about the 2012 Games and then I was out,” he said.

4. The Olympic Torchbearer. The quirky choice of logo raises the worrying possibility that Olympic supremo Sebastian Coe will go for a quirky choice of individual to light the flame at the opening ceremony. While Atlanta had Muhammad Ali to light the cauldron in 1996, it is a terrifying thought that Britain might opt for someone like Kriss Akabusi, Eddie ‘The Eagle’ Edwards or Zara Phillips’ new horse. Lord Coe must put modesty aside and light the torch himself!

5. Organisation. If you excuse the pun, Britain doesn’t have a great track record of organising big events recently. Anyone who remembers the Millennium celebrations will shudder at recalling a glum-looking Queen joining hands with Tony Blair to sing Auld Lang Syne. Blair himself has said that he would have “preferred a visit to the dentist” to attending the opening night of the Millennium Dome and he was the man who rubber-stamped its construction. Then there was the breakdown of the VIP train carrying guests to the ceremony, the decision that the new London Eye wheel wasn’t safe to carry passengers on the big night and Prince Phillip anxiously remarking that the acrobats swinging above his wife’s head didn’t have a safety harness.

6. The Football. Great Britain’s participation in the Olympics football tournament seems to point to a distinct lack of organisational skills. Worries that there would be an English bias to team selection were dismissed by the GB committee – who then put England assistant manager Stuart Pearce in charge of picking the squad. The Welsh FA and Scottish FA soon started discouraging their players from participating for reasons too complicated to detail here and, at time of going to press (29th February 2012) tickets for the matches have yet to sell out.

7. The Stadium. Will it really be ready in time? Delays to the opening of the new Wembley suggest that all may not be smooth. The prospect of the hammer being tossed while builders are still hammering in the final nails is a nightmare scenario which is best enjoyed while sipping a cocktail on a foreign beach. Enjoy!

^Research by Price Waterhouse Cooper, August 2011

Author bio: James Christie writes for Thomson Local, a business directory which is the ideal resource for looking up travel agents when planning a foreign holiday during the Olympics.

February 29, 2012
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Abandon Gift Giving

With Christmas less than four weeks away, how about a story that evokes the true spirit of the season? Yes, we thought you’d like that. To get such a story, though, the 7 Reasons sofa is heading back to the good old US of A. That’s because the man behind such a story is Rich Rossi. Now Rich strives to practice non-violence in all he does, and advocates that others do the same unless confronted by anyone handing out pamphlets. He goes on long fasts, partially as a means of self-purification and social protest. But mostly because he needs to lose a few pounds before speedo season. Check out his children’s book entitled The 12 Days of Christmas in New Jersey, on sale at Costco this holiday season or visit him at his SU sports and music blog. Before you do any of that, though, read his 7 Reasons guest post.

It was Christmas morning and my new bride and I were celebrating our first Christmas together. We were on a tight budget so we each promised to
keep our spending limit at $10.

There it was, placed carefully under the tree and wrapped in newspaper, with a little tag that said,”To my husband, with love”. Waiting for my wife to awake, I stared at the gift in anticipation, not unlike I would have when I was a child.

What could it be?

When the time came to open our gifts, the anxiety was killing me. I threw off the newspaper wrapping only to find….a rubber chicken.

Nothin’ says loving’ like a rubber chicken.

Trying to laugh and take it all in stride, I playfully threw it at her. It made a hollow “thump” as it bounced off her and hit the ground. The damn thing wasn’t even rubber. It was plastic.

Lesson Number One: Save your rubber chicken receipts.

Several days later I brought my faux rubber chicken back to the fine establishment from which it was purchased. I confronted the shopkeeper with my receipt and asked for a refund.

“And the reason for your return?” he asked. “This is not a rubber chicken. The wrapper clearly states that it’s a rubber chicken and it’s not. It’s plastic.”

“Well, we tried to get rubber chickens. I called my supplier, the biggest novelty company on the east coast. What with the holidays, there was a run on rubber chickens. You just can’t find ’em.”

A run on rubber chickens? Really?

I still have the plastic chicken today as a memento from our first Christmas, but it hasn’t stopped me from being on both the giving and receiving end of additional mistakes. Here’s a list of seven dreadful holiday gifts I’ve received in the past and seven reasons to abandon the gift giving ritual all together:

1. Yes. It’s Rubber Chickens.

2. Fake Lottery Tickets. Mom has bucks. Fairly well off, one would assume she’d be a bit generous around Christmas, especially knowing that I’m going to inherit it all when she dies anyway. I’m a patient man, though.

Imagine my surprise when I opened up a gift from her, a winning Powerball ticket, only to be told that it was a just a joke. Well, aren’t we funny?

Looks like I’ll have to kill her after all.

3. Vintage Literature. What’s the biggest selling book of all time outside of the Bible? It’s Andrew Carnegie’s How To Make Friends and Influence People. I found an early pressing in a used books store and, knowing that my brother-in-law was a big history buff, I thought he’d appreciate it. He didn’t take it quite the right way. That was 15 years ago. I’m still waiting for my “Thank you”.

4. Chainsaw. I live in the city. What on God’s pavement covered earth am I going to do with a chainsaw? Besides, with my luck I’ll either put somebody’s eye out with it or accidentally lop my arm off, making my attempt to hail a cab and return the damn thing virtually impossible.

5. Logo Ornament. One year a client sent me a Christmas ornament with his logo on it. And the cheap SOB probably sent it only because he could write it off as an expense on his taxes. How quaint. How novel. This is the worst Christmas gift. EVER.

6. Chia Pet Lamp. Yes, you read that correctly. In a tribute to bad taste, a neighbor took a Chia-Pet and, through some “expert” handiwork, turned it into a furry, green table lamp. Imagine my surprise when I opened that little contribution to the trailer park decor hall of fame.

7. A Real Pet. I don’t like animals so what does my uncle get me for Christmas? A dog. A trip to the vet and $2000 later I’m saddled with a canine Ironsides I’ve got to feed and clean up after for the rest of his life. Maybe if my neighbor still has his tools handy….

Now you know what NOT to buy. If it’s good gift ideas you want, I’m afraid you’re in the wrong place. You’ll need to do your Christmas shopping on your own.

Just one last word of advice…

When you see rubber chickens in the window, keep walking.

November 28, 2011
7 Reasons Ireland Didn’t Beat England At Cricket Yesterday
If you’re a cricket lover, or if you’re following the Cricket World Cup (which isn’t really cricket) and you’re English, you might be happily going about your March 2^nd business right now vaguely aware that you seem to have had some sort of strange and improbable nightmare last night. And you’re right. It is still Wednesday and you’ve had a bit of a funny dream. I know I have. Here are seven reasons why.

This didn't happen. You dreamt this.

1.  It’s Too Conflicting. The English, as popular opinion would have it, love an underdog. And it’s true, we do. There’s nothing that the English like to do more than cheer on plucky minnows. We love to see Italy do well in the Six Nations; we love to see Scotland do well at football; we love to see Malta do well at absolutely bloody everything and, had Ireland been playing any other nation yesterday (except Malta), we would have been cheering them on with cries of “Play up, Ireland” and “Hurrah for the Patricks”. But they weren’t playing anyone else. They were playing us. And we were the overdog. This was somewhat conflicting. Because it was nice to see the plucky Irish do well during the cricket, it was heart-warming even, and to someone who fancies that he has some modicum of appreciation for the game, it was enjoyable. But then it slowly began to look like they might actually beat us and suddenly the thin veneer of being a fair-minded Englishman that appreciates a fine performance (even by an opponent) began to dissipate and I realised that I wasn’t quite the sporting chap I imagine myself to be. I discovered that I am, in fact, the sort of Englishman who would happily don a pith helmet and mow down colonials with a Gatling gun if it meant a victory in war or sport for dear old Blighty. No one needs to find that out about themselves when they’re trying to enjoy the cricket. I started the match as a good, upright, moral chap and finished it as a cruel, bloodthirsty, avaricious monster. Albeit one with a nice hat. But this can’t really have happened, because I’m certain that, at heart, I’m a thoroughly nice chap.

2.  The Irish Don’t Even Play Cricket. I know about Irish sport; I’ve seen it. There are essentially three major sports there. They play football, like we do, but with muddier pitches. They play rugby, like we do, but with muddier pitches. And they play Gaelic-bloody-hurleyball-thing – a sport I once saw on Channel Four at three o’clock one morning in 1997 – which is essentially a mass-brawl in the mud which may or may not have sticks and a ball. And a net.   None of those things even remotely resemble cricket, which is a game played in England, where children are given bats, balls and club ties at birth and spend almost every minute of every childhood summer – except when they are reluctantly dragged away to a tartan picnic blanket and force-fed cucumber sandwiches, orange squash and those Mr Kipling cakes that resemble gaudily coloured plasticine and make your teeth hurt – playing the game of cricket. And then when we grow up many of us carry on doing exactly the same thing, but with Pimm’s instead of the squash and if we’re very lucky, picnic sex. Though the infernal sodding cakes are still there. We have cricket, if not in our blood, then certainly in our souls and in our psyche, it’s a part of our national identity. We are prepared to play cricket from birth, it shouldn’t be possible to just to turn up with a horse and beat us at it. Which is good, because it didn’t happen.

3.  There Was A Horse. I’m not going to knock Kevin O’Brien’s knock*. What he did yesterday was superb. He went out to bat and did what every young boy (and grown man and woman and just about everyone who’s ever had any sporting ambition/interest/has even seen a blade of grass) has ever dreamed of doing: He took a game by the scruff of the neck and improbably – almost impossibly – won it single-handedly, against the odds. It was amazing. He was magnificent. Unlike Irish people, however, I have seen Kevin O’Brien play before, and I know this. He’s essentially a lumbering big, ginger horse in a cricket uniform. Of course he’s going to be able to slog the ball around on a flat pitch, he could probably hit balls to the moon. What we needed to counteract him was a backfiring car. They always put horses off what they’re doing, I’ve seen black and white films and read Edwardian novels, and I know of what I speak. It’s just not possible that England’s enormous – and legendarily meticulous – backroom staff consisting of hordes of people with laptops that studied P.E. at university didn’t consider this tactic, not possible at all. As the saying goes: If you fail to prepare, you prepare to get spanked around the ground by a big ginger man-horse. And that’s what happened…er…didn’t happen.

4.  It Isn’t Mathematically Possible. The Ireland cricket team represents both Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. So England were playing two countries out there yesterday, and you might think that would put England (us) at a disadvantage but wait! The acronym ECB is short for The England and Wales (and some South Africans) Cricket Board, so Irelands two nations were in fact playing our three nations, all of whom are individually better at cricket than them. It’s not mathematically possible that they should have won, or geographically or historically. It’s just not possible at all, so it can’t have happened.

5.  Available Talent. That Ireland don’t have any sort of cricketing pedigree is self-evident. But that’s not to say that Ireland is completely lacking any cricketing talent. That would be crass and simplistic. Because there is Irish cricketing talent out there. For there is a man born in Dublin who would get into just about any one day cricket team in the world; a man who won three senior cup titles for Catholic University School; a man who has a ODI batting average of 38.03; a man whose batting shimmers with inventiveness and audacity; a man whose bold stroke-play and natural ease with a bat is admired the world over. And that Irishman’s name is Eoin Morgan and he plays for fecking England!!!! Their best player doesn’t even play for them! He plays for us, so they can’t have won at all.

6.  The Reaction. Do you know what the reaction in England to the Irish victory was last night? From people that don’t follow cricket as closely as you or I, people with children and lives and things, people that the news was only slowly filtering to by yesterday evening? The ones that I spoke to all reacted in exactly the same way with the same question. They asked, “Do the Irish even have a cricket team?” Every last one of them asked this. And in Ireland, I have no doubt that they were all asking, “Do we even have a cricket team?” I had to explain this defeat to a Frenchman last night – A MAN FROM FRANCE – and do you know what his first question was? I’ll tell you. It was, “Do ze Irish even ‘ave a cricket team?”   I can’t begin to tell you how painful this conversation was. It was several minutes before I was able to turn the conversation to the efficacy of the Maginot Line. Several long minutes. Anyway, the upshot of all this is that we were playing a team yesterday that doesn’t exist. And they beat us.

7.  It’s So Weird I Can Only Have Dreamt It. I won’t bore you with all of the details, but it’s fair to say that yesterday was a fairly strange day for me. Here are just some of the things that actually happened to me:
- I purchased Vaseline for my cat.
- I discussed the Ashes with a Frenchman.
- I witnessed a man request “A pint of the lager you have that’s most like Stella” at a bar.
- An Irish team that doesn’t exist beat England at Cricket with an orange horse.
So there you go. All of the available evidence is there and it points to only one thing: That yesterday was a really weird dream that didn’t actually happen. Any moment now I’m going to wake up and it’ll be March 2^nd again and at some point later on today I’m going to listen to England thump Ireland at cricket. It’s going to be great. I can’t wait.

*That’s the first knock-knock joke we’ve ever done at 7 Reasons.**

**The second one will be better.
March 3, 2011
7 Reasons Not to Watch The Cricket World Cup

It’s Friday the 18th of February, 2011, and after all the build-up and anticipation, the Cricket World Cup starts today. As you can probably imagine, we’re very excited about that here at 7 Reasons and…well, you will have to imagine that, because we’re not. Here are 7 Reasons not to watch the bloody thing.

1. Australia. It’s not so much how good Australia are – they aren’t – it’s more whether anyone can be bothered to beat them. In 1999, South Africa should have beaten them in the semi-final, but Lance Klusener lost the plot and with it the match. And as for the final, well Pakistan didn’t turn up for it and were comprehensively thumped. In 2003, England should have beaten them in the final group game, but decided to let Andy Bichel have his one and only great day in an Aussie shirt and in doing so managed to lose from an impossible position. And as for the final, well India did turn up, but only to watch Sourav Ganguly toss the coin. After that they were comprehensively thumped. In 2007, well, only Australia turned up. They comprehensively thumped everyone. Which leads us to today. Or tomorrow. The 2011 World Cup promises to be the best yet. I reckon you could make strong arguments for six teams winning it. But that would be futile wouldn’t it? Because the script has long been written. Thumpings of the most comprehensive kind shall soon be scattered across the sub-continent. What’s the point in watching that?

2. Length. Now we love our cricket, but this thing goes on for a month and a half. Just imagine what you could get done in a month and a half if you weren’t watching the cricket. You could fly around the world 40 times. You could cook everything in Delia’s Complete Cookery Course. Twice. You could solve the international sudoku problem. You could build a tree house, dismantle it and build it again. You could even write us a guest post. By not watching the cricket World Cup you could achieve so much. The World Cup is your oyster.

3. Timing. I’m in England and the Cricket World Cup is not. It’s taking place far away, over the sea. But I’ve looked at the fixture list and, apart from the odd game that starts at 4am, the times of the matches actually seem reasonable. For the most part, they seem to be occurring during working hours. During working hours!? What’s the bloody point in that? Where’s my epic struggle to stay awake during matches? Where’s my opportunity to complain, bleary-eyed, the day after an important match, to all and sundry that the World Cup is going to kill me? You know how to spot a fellow cricket aficionado while England are on tour? You’ll hear them yawning and/or snoring and find them slumped on their desks/a bus seat/your left shoulder of an afternoon. Now, throughout the tournament, confused England fans will spend their time mistakenly bothering the exhausted parents of new-born children to discuss the batting of Kevin Pietersen, the bowling of Graeme Swann or the point of Billy Bowden. That’s no fun for anyone. Especially for cricket fans who’ll end up learning all sorts of nonsense about nappies and breast-pumps that they’d really rather not hear about. If watching cricket isn’t a challenge, it’s just not as good.

4. It’s Just Not Cricket. Is the ball red? No. Are the kits tasteful and pleasing to the eye? No. Are some of the spectators grey, dusty and possibly suffering from rigor mortis? No. Can each match last for an entire working week? No. Are England any good at it? No. In that case, it isn’t cricket at all; it’s merely baseball for the civilised.

5. National Anthems. I do love a good rendition of ‘God Save The Queen’. But only if it’s at Twickenham or I’m in the shower. Only in these environments do people actually appear as if they want to sing. Anthems just don’t seem to work at cricket. I feel a bit awkward watching them. It’s a bit like chapel at school. No one really wants to be there. The problem is that when the anthems are over, half the players go back to the changing rooms to play cards while the rest hang around for ten minutes until the Umpires check to see if the light is okay. By which time the parts of you that were pumped up are now deflated. And that’s when Straussy loses his off-stump. So, unless we are sadists we should not be watching.

6. Because You Support England. And by “you support England”, what I mean is that I support England; the surest route to heartbreak and despair in all of international sport (outside of betting on Audley Harrison or being Jermaine Jenas). I was pushing my luck by watching the Ashes, so watching the Cricket World Cup can only lead to disillusionment and despondency. Much better to avoid it and stick to watching films about the war. Not the second Anglo-Dutch War, obviously, that would be equally depressing.

The 2011 World Cup Cricket trophy pictured on Horsell Common.

7. It’s Misleading. It’s called the World Cup. But I’ve seen the trophy and it doesn’t resemble a cup in the least. It looks like a Martian tripod from H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds standing in the classical ballet stance, en pointe. Can you drink tea from it? No. Can it perform a quick pas de bourrée before killing you with its heat-ray? Undoubtedly. So it’s not the Cricket World Cup at all. It’s the Cricket World Martian Ballet Tripod. If they’d called it that, more people would be watching. And if they had a few of those at the stadia, I would watch.

February 18, 2011
7 Reasons That the new Starbucks Logo is Wrong

Starbucks are changing their logo. They’re removing the roundel containing the words “Starbucks” and “Coffee” from the new one and are, instead, focussing on the mermaid part. This is in the hope that the mermaid, like the golden arches of McDonalds or the shell of Shell will come to be the easily identifiable international signifier of Starbucks, but the new focus on the mermaid is confusing and frustrating. Here are seven reasons why.

The new Starbucks logo.

1. It’s Baffling. A mermaid is a fish-woman from the sea. Coffee is a beverage made by combining beans from the land and water from the sky, occasionally using bovine mammary excretions from the fields, and sugar from the Oompa-Loompas. The intrinsic nature of the coffee experience has nothing whatsoever to do with the sea, so the mermaid is unrepresentative. If I saw a mermaid my first thought wouldn’t be coffee. In fact, the thought coffee wouldn’t come in my top million thoughts on seeing a mermaid. It wouldn’t even come above fish fingers, bubble bath or owls.

2. It’s Misdirected. So who is the target market for mermaids? I have identified two. The first is my writing partner Jon, whose bizarre fixation with The Little Mermaid had been explored more than enough on this website already, and the second market is sailors. Drunken, sex-starved sailors. After all, it was they that would tell tales of strange and beautiful fish-women to while away their long sea voyages. There are two things I know about Starbucks. The first is that you won’t find Jon in them, and the second is that if you want to see a mob of inebriated and libidinous seamen, you’re unlikely to find them in an establishment whose principal attraction is free wi-fi, blueberry muffins and skinny mocha-choca-lattes.

3. Nudity. Mermaids don’t wear clothes, but (I’m presuming this, I live in far too cold a place to want to test this assumption) that if I attempted to drink coffee at Starbucks without any clothes on there would be two reactions. Firstly, awe. Secondly, I would be asked to leave. And the successive changes to the logo have demonstrated that Starbucks are also inconvenienced by this too, as the two most recent logos don’t have nipples. This is because there are parts of the world where an image of a nude fish-woman with nipples would cause offence, whereas removing the nipples of nude-fish women is a perfectly acceptable activity and probably fun for all the family.

4. Scales. A mermaid is a creature with delicate scales, but muffin-gobbling Starbucks customers (who are predominantly American) do not require delicate scales. They require substantial ones that go up to a big number.

5. Music. Starbucks has also branched into music publishing in recent years and the new logo is supposed to reflect that. But they’ve published Paul McCartney and Alanis Morrissette, and these artists (okay, one of them used to have a yellow submarine) have absolutely cock-all to do with mermaids. The sort of music you should be able to expect from an establishment with a mermaid as a logo is sea-shanties, a huge number of which are about mermaids. But I’ve never heard sea-shanties in Starbucks. All I ever hear is Carly Simon, who doesn’t even have an accordion.

6. Mermaids Can’t Drink Coffee. Mermaids live under the sea. The sea is made of liquid. Coffee is also made of liquid. This means that the one group of people that can’t enjoy Starbucks main product are mermaids. Because if you take even the largest cup size (venti) under the sea, it becomes a drop in the ocean. This would be a disappointing experience for any mermaid. And even if they could drink the coffee, they don’t seem to have anywhere to wee from. They would become bloated and crotchety.

7. Spoilsports. By focussing on the mythical fish-woman and removing the words “Starbucks Coffee” from their new logo, Starbucks have ruined all the fun that you can have with a green marker pen. And I suspect that this may have been the motive for change all along.

January 7, 2011