7 Reasons

Tag: pies

  • 7 Reasons Not To Throw A Foam Pie At Rupert Murdoch

    7 Reasons Not To Throw A Foam Pie At Rupert Murdoch

    You probably hadn’t considered throwing a foam pie at Rupert Murdoch.  Nor, I must confess, had I, until Jonnie Marbles turned up at the House of Commons earlier today and threw a foam pie at Rupert Murdoch.  Then I considered it.  After a half a nanosecond or so of consideration, I came to the conclusion that throwing a foam pie at Rupert Murdoch is an imbecilic act.  I know that most right-thinking people will probably already have come to a similar conclusion about the merits of throwing foam pies at Rupert Murdoch, so they need read no further; they can simply retweet this piece, press the Google +1 button at the bottom of it (and share it on other social media too) and go on their merry way.  For all wrong-thinking people – that’s just you, Jonnie – here are seven reasons not to throw a foam pie at Rupert Murdoch.

    Jonnie marbles hits Rupert Murdoch with a foam pie
    Don't do this.

    1.  It Draws Attention Away From The Hearing.  Hitting a man in the face with a pie is a dramatic and attention-grabbing act.  Because of that, a lot of the focus of the coverage of the Murdochs’ appearance before the Commons Culture, Media and Sport Select Committee, will be about the pie, rather than the important issue of wholesale corporate corruption that was being raised.  Am I writing about the hearing?  Are you reading about the hearing?  No…well… yes, but only a tiny bit because I’m demonstrating how little we’re reading about the hearing because of the pie.  Mostly what’s happening here is that I’m writing about the pie and you’re reading about the pie.  I’ll also be reading about the pie when I edit this and eventually, once I’ve finished, I’ll be tweeting about the pie, even though the pie isn’t the point of the hearing.  The point of the hearing is corruption.  You’ve obscured that.

    2.  It Generates Sympathy For Him.  With one blow of a pie, you’ve turned this man, the head of a corrupt organisation that has nefariously committed numerous despicable and illegal acts, into a victim; someone that’s deserving of our sympathy.  Because, while every right-thinking person will abhor what was carried out in Rupert Murdoch’s name at the News of the World, that very same innate moral decency will cause them to see a frail, elderly man being subjected to an assault as an outrage.  Because assault is an outrage, no matter whom it is perpetrated against.  Even Rupert Murdoch.

    3.  You’ve Made Him Appear Lovable.  It seems that making us feel sympathy for Rupert Murdoch wasn’t enough for you though.  You’ve actually made him appear loveable.  By provoking his wife to leap so rapidly and publicly to his defence, you’ve demonstrated that he is loved, and very loyally.  You’ve taken a man that heads a sinister and morally-bankrupt organisation and caused us all to admire his wife’s love for him.  In terms of public relations, you’ve accomplished more for Murdoch in five seconds than his own PR people have managed in the past five years.  And you’re not even getting paid for it.

    4.  You’ll Look Incompetent.  While I’m no expert on pie-throwing, I can’t help but think you’re not very good at it.  You see, in my (admittedly inexpert) understanding of the act of pie-throwing, a pie is supposed to be thrown by the pie-thrower into the face of the pie-receiver, or victim as they are also known.  But what’s going on in this picture?

    Jonnie Marbles, the man that threw a foam pie at Rupert Murdoch

    That man appears to have been caught brilliantly smack in the middle of the face by a pie.  But wait!  That doesn’t look like an octogenarian media despot magnate.  That’s you!  You’ve attacked an eighty year old man with a pie and ended up wearing it.  That’s possibly the worst throw of a pie in the history of pie-throwing.  Throwing a pie doesn’t seem like a difficult thing to do, but you’re not competent to do it.  You’re not fit for pie-pose (that only works if read in a New York accent).  It was your big moment and you’ve ended up with metaphorical egg on your face.  And actual pie.

    5.  Self-Publicity.  It’s an oft-heard-phrase that all publicity is good publicity and this might be seen as having a certain truth to it.  If you’re an idiot.  For the rest of us, however, and I feel that I am speaking for the entire population of the planet here, you’re going to be forever known as the prick that threw the pie.  Badly.  That won’t help you with your comedy career.  In fact, that won’t help you with any career, and certainly not one that involves throwing or pies.

    6.  The Police Won’t Thank You For It.  The Metropolitan Police are reeling from the repercussions of the News of the World scandal and their reputation has been severely damaged by it, so sneaking into a commons committee that is being viewed by a vast worldwide audience and attacking a git with a pie is going to make them look feckless and incompetent right at the very moment that they probably don’t want to.  Now, ordinarily, exposing institutional incompetence might be seen as a good thing, but not for you, because right at this moment, the Metropolitan Police are your landlords.  They’re also your caterers; responsible for feeding you and bringing you the odd cup of tea.  Probably, in fact, very odd cups of tea.  Enjoy those!

    7.   “All The World Loves A Clown.”, according to Cole Porter.  But that’s just not true, in fact, coulrophobia is one of the world’s most commonly professed phobias.  What all the world hates, in fact, is a clown.  A clown is a coarse buffoon who throws foam pies at people.  That’s you.  For some duncical, nitwitted, dunderheaded reason you decided to disrupt a long overdue attempt to make News Corp accountable for their actions by pratting around with a pie and you’ve ended up overshadowing an important hearing and distracting from the serious testimony that was being given there.  You haven’t damaged News Corp and Rupert Murdoch, you’ve positively helped them.  You are a clown.  No one likes clowns.

  • Russian Roulette Sunday: The Stats Don’t Lie

    Russian Roulette Sunday: The Stats Don’t Lie

    Ever wanted to know who writes what and when here at 7 Reasons? No, neither did I. But I didn’t want to go to school either and I did that. So here are the stats behind 7 Reasons. And they are all accurate, except where I have made them up.

    Russian Roulette Sunday: The Stats Don't Lie

  • Guest Post : 7 Reasons To Love Bolton

    Guest Post : 7 Reasons To Love Bolton

    Today’s guest post comes from Bolton-based musician, record-label-owner and music-promoter Brad B. Wood.  His highly acclaimed band, Merchandise, are releasing their fifth album soon, which could mean any time in the next two years.  You can check out the brilliant Merchandise website here, it’ll even play you a song while you read this.  You can also find Brad twittering here.  Twitter will not play you a song.

    Bolton

    1.  The moors. In much the same way that the proximity of the Moors influenced Southern Spain, the proximity of the moors influences Bolton.  The moors are beautiful in a gorgeously melancholic and autumnal way that imparts the mood which characterises Bolton – helped by the wonderfully named A666 (Dual Carriageway of the Beast) running through the town.

    2.  Pies. Yes I know Wigan has the reputation, but they’re something of a delicacy round here too.  There are many great pie shops including the excellent Ye Olde Pastie Shoppe, Wilson’s in Kearsley and, of course, the locally ubiquitous Greenhalgh’s (a pronunciation nightmare for visitors).  My favourite, Villas on Tonge Moor, has sadly closed – not due to any lack of custom on my part.  I got told off the other week for saying complimentary things about Carr’s pasties during an interview on Bolton FM – strange folk there.  I just mentioned how they make a pasty barm so well (a pasty in a buttered bread roll – great!).  You don’t have to travel to Scotland to find fine cuisine, you know.  You can also find it in Bolton.

    3.  Bradshaw fireworks display.  A grand evening out.  Gloriously crap, and all the more fun for it. One year, the countdown to the start of the display ended with no fireworks.  The tannoy announcer asked Cyril (the man in charge of the blue touch-paper) what he was up to several times before he eventually graced us with what could be the most randomly choreographed display in pyrotechnic history.  After 25 minutes of mistimed banging and whooshing, bizarre colour combinations and fireworks shooting in all directions, the display concluded with the piece-de-resistance, the words “..od ..ght” illuminated in fireworks.

    4.  Place names. Well, the best of the lot has to be Knob End, Upper Ramsbottom is just over the hill too (There’s a new game,  “Increase the Innuendo by Placing Bolton Place Names Next to Each Other in a Sentence.”)  We also specialise in place-names that are unpronounceable to visitors, such as Daubhill (Dobble), and place-names with a right lot of apostrophes:  Hall I’ th’ Wood, Top O’ Th’ Brow etc.  During a fun game of “Get the Bolton Place Name in a Film Title” (this is how we roll) these were the best: Doffcockerlipse Now, Daubhill Impact (see pronunciation above), Lostock and Two Smoking Barrels, When Harry Breightmet Sally and The Bradshawshank Redemption. That whiled away a long motorway journey of twenty-nine miles, twenty-nine long miles . . . and there were some much worse suggestions.

    5. Comedy. Bolton is a funny place, or at least our residents make it one.  The local character is to look for the funny; we’re also known for our friendliness to strangers.  Genuine business names include “Big Baps and Nice Buns” (a sandwich shop) and Softies Hard Stuff (I think you can guess what he sells).  Among our professional comics are Peter Kay, Dave Spikey, Justin Moorehouse, Hovis Presley , Paddy McGuinness and the perennial panto favourite, Stu “I could crush a grape” Francis.  We also employ Gary Megson.

    6.  Bolton Wanderers. Founder members of the Football League and four time FA cup winners – including the White Horse final in 1923 – the first at the old Wembley stadium. We were involved in the first game with nets, which took place between Bolton and Everton (possibly the two teams least likely to need them).  And now we’ve come through that dark patch in the eighties where we had to sell one end of the stadium to a supermarket, “We’re the one and only Wanderers!” (except for ones beginning with W)

    7.  Real ale. Like everywhere, Bolton has a strip of pubs which are less safe than the places you hear about in the international news.  However, if you drive out a little, or have a bit of nous, you can avoid everything that’s fetid and wrong with contemporary society, and visit great pubs which make you proud to be British (in a nice way, not a Nick Griffin way).  The joy of pubs where folk actually talk to each other is lost on Southerners – Christ knows how they make friends.  Go to the No Name (it’s a pub without a name), The Dog and Partridge, The Sweet Green Tavern, The Hen and Chickens, The Old Man and Scythe or The Pack Horse at Affetside and you won’t be disappointed.  You may even make a friend.