Tag: POST

Russian Roulette Sunday: The Images

Hello! Happy Sunday! (or Friday, if you’re one of the 7 Reasons team editing this post before scheduling it for Sunday)

Images are very important to us here at 7 Reasons and we always try to put them together in-house because, though what we post usually isn’t about an image, there’s always at least one picture attached to what we’ve written. We wanted to communicate the significance that we place on arresting and original visuals to you, so we decided that today we would chose three each of our favourite images from previous posts (plus one we’d used from Google Images by way of contrast) and hold an earnest and thoughtful contemplation of the importance of imagery in our posts and the technical and aesthetic merits of the selected illustrations as pieces of artwork. Obviously we failed, so here’s Marc Fearns and Jonathan Lee bickering about pictures instead.

Hitler’s Hand

Originally used in 7 Reasons That Size is Important.

MF. This is probably my favourite of the images I’ve put together for 7 Reasons. It’s not technically brilliant (in fact, it’s quite flawed), but boring stuff aside, it ticks all of my boxes: It’s black and white; It has Hitler in it; it has some sort of Photoshop-induced oddity (the big hand), and it has a random, bizarre element to it (the triangle apparently embedded in Himmler’s head). If it weren’t for Jon’s civilising influence, 7 Reasons would probably look a lot more like World War II than it does already.

JL. I have a serious problem with this image. It seems to suggest the Nazis were very handy. The Nazis were not very handy. They weren’t even quite handy. The Nazis were rather irritating and quite frankly caused more harm than good. I also have a problem with Himmler. Unlike Marc I am not struck by the triangle in his head, but his the binoculars. Why did Himmler need binoculars? Was he a part time ornithologist? Was he a pervert? Why are they pointing at his trousers? This picture provides more questions than answers. And that I find rather frustrating.

Lamb & Jon Photoshoot

Originally used in 7 Reasons Playing With A Cuddly Toy 2010 Was Not A Let Down.

JL. I like this picture because I look like an idiot. And in this life there just aren’t enough people prepared to be idiots. Sure, there are idiotic people, but that’s by accident. It takes a very special kind of person to deliberately make themselves look like an idiot and I am very proud to say I am very special. It also reminds me of that great day last September with Lamb. Oh, what fun was had. Rock on.

MF. I’m less keen on this picture than Jon. While it does feature a pair of Aviators, which is always a good thing, it’s lacking something quite fundamental. Hitler. Or the war generally. Also, outside of the framing, there barely a straight line in it. And what’s with the archway? What sort of oddball has an archway in their house? And he’s wearing a hat indoors which, as any grandparent would be very keen to point out, is a #manfail. The only thing that makes this image good is the albino monkey.

The Anglo-French Flag

Originally used in 7 Reasons The Anglo-Franco Defence Agreement is a Good Idea

MF. This Anglo-French flag is something that I’m rather proud of. I constructed it from a picture of a British flag, a picture of a French flag and a picture of a silk sheet (which is how I got the creased fluttering effect). It wasn’t even in the post itself, it was the featured image, which means that it appears next to the post on menus as a thumbnail and it was in the Latest Posts window at the top of our home page for five days. You might wonder why I’d go to such an effort to create an image that would be barely seen but, to me anyway, that sort of detail is important, and I like to think that 7 Reasons is all the better for having high standards. That the image of the intertwined British and French flags brought Jon to near-apoplexy is purely coincidence.

JL. As Marc indicates, this picture absolutely disgusts me. I don’t mind the United Kingdom and France joining forces if we are beating up some bad guys, but to merge the Union Jack with the Drapeau Tricolore is nothing less than treason. I have had to ask myself many searching questions since Marc posted this. Should I turn him in? Can I continue to work with him? How the hell did he get that creased fluttering effect? In the end I have allowed Marc to remain living his life in York. The prospect of writing 7 Reasons on a daily basis was just too much to deal with. Rest-assured though, he’s had a warning. A severe one. And, as he’s posted it again, I shall be poking him on facebook too.

Beauty & The Beast

Originally used in 7 Reasons You Should Never Get Cary Grant & Carrie Grant Mixed Up.

JL. Let me clarify one thing, I don’t have a ‘Cary Grant dressed as a woman’ fantasy. I think it’s important to remind you of this now as I can see why you may be thinking such a thing. It’s a disturbing sight. I don’t think there is any getting away from that. So why do I love it? Well that comes down to the photoshopping. Do you know how difficult it is finding a picture of Cary Grant and a picture of Carrie Grant that will go together seemlessly? No, of course you don’t. The consequences of your actions rarely lead you to such an investigation. The consequences of starting 7 Reasons very much do. So, yes, I was delighted that I found two pictures that would work together. It’s not perfect. If I had my time again I would do a bit of work on their skin tones, but for the purpose of the post it did the job. And in 7 Reasons circles that means victory.

MF. For once, I agree with absolutely everything that Jon said about this image. In his third sentence. I do, however, have some observations of my own. Firstly, bloody Twilight: When you’re a vampire and you’re not even the scariest person in the background of a picture, you’re doing it wrong and you should just bloody stop. Secondly, there’s a terrifying bald man wearing an ill-fitting white suit and eyeliner with someone’s severed arm tucked under his own arm. I haven’t slept properly since I saw this. Thirdly, I find Jon’s Cary/Carrie Grant hybrid creature more attractive than the actual Carrie Grant. Or Cary Grant. This is troubling. And Jon never responds to my emails begging him to photoshop more of them.

Lungs, Heart, Asparagus.

Originally used in 7 Reasons That We Should Grow Vegetables in our Lungs.

MF. I put this one together to complement the title of the piece. It’s an original x-ray with the heart and lungs highlighted which I found online and added asparagus to. I’ve chosen this image not just because I’m pleased with the way it turned out, though I am rather. I’ve chosen it because of the almost boundless amusement it gives me every time someone discovers it searching Google Images for x-rays of lungs. I just like knowing that at any given moment someone, somewhere in the world is looking at it thinking, “Blimey! (or perhaps a colloquial equivalent) That looks nasty. I’m going to treat asparagus with more respect now”. I feel certain that one day, this picture will turn up in a medical journal, or on a GP’s surgery wall.

JL. Who eats asparagus whole? Is that even possible? This is just one of the 7 Reasons images that has inspired readers all over the road. A bit like that man in Norwich who – having been so inspired by a post last June – tried to break the world record for number of Jaffa Cakes eaten in one minute and was subsequently sick all over the biscuit aisle. Now, I am not for a minute encouraging you to see how much whole asparagus you can eat at once – that would be highly irresponsible of us – but if you manage more than five I would love to know.

Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

Originally used in 7 Reasons You Should Always Kiss Properly.

JL. I know what you are thinking, ‘Typical Jon. Two of his three image choices feature him.” Yep, I can’t argue with maths. But let’s look at this photo. At least for as long a you feel comfortable doing so. It is an animated GIF! How bloody exciting! But more than that it is a reminder. A reminder of how far my kissing technique has advanced since last March and – if you’ve been using the above as some kind of guide – how far backwards yours has gone. Lovely stuff.

MF. “AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!” was my initial reaction to this image when I first saw it eleven months ago. And now that I am older, wiser and more mature, on reviewing this image I would say that my reaction is now AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”. Note that Jon has attempted to baffle us with maths to distract from the inherent narcissism of his selections, but let’s consider it carefully. This, as Jon points out, is an animated GIF, so it’s not one picture of him, it’s three pictures of him. This means that four out of Jon’s five image choices are of himself. That’s 80%. Anyway, that aside, I like this picture. On the first occasion I viewed it I remembered that I was supposed to unblock the kitchen sink, and the repeat viewing has caused me to agree with my wife that I spend too long on the internet and I’ve now closed my laptop, sellotaped it shut and placed it under a sofa. With an anvil on top.

Raw Sausages

Originally used in 7 Reasons That December 24th Should be Known as the Day of the Sausage.

MF. Aha! I remember this piece. Sadly, I also remember this picture. It makes me feel sick. It’s not just that the raw former-animal bits are shiny and greasy looking and some of them appear to be inside used condoms, it’s that I don’t even remember which of us added this to the (co-written) piece. I realise what must have been going through the mind of the person that uploaded it. “Sausages! Sausages! We’ve written a piece about sausages and now I need an image of sausages – any image of sausages – right now, to go with the piece about sausages!” And, in the grip of a deadline-panic, that person will have just grabbed the first image of sausages that they saw and attached it to the post. Truly horrible.

JL. This is a perfect example of what one calls, ‘shooting oneself in the foot’. Not that I shot myself, Marc shot me. And himself. And our argument. Using this image kind of reminds me of that day I sent my CV out to dozens of prospective employers and realised a week later that it didn’t contain my contact details. That section about my ‘outstanding attention to detail’ lost all credibility after that. Now, I’m not saying that the idea of the Day of the Sausage lost credibility with the inclusion of this image, just that – if such a day ever was created – Marc and I would not be part of the marketing team. And that’s sad.

January 30, 2011
7 Reasons That I Won’t Be Sending My Christmas Cards Until Christmas Eve

It’s almost Christmas and one of the aspects of the festival that I hate the most is writing Christmas cards. But I’ve come up with a cunning plan for dealing with them. This year, I won’t be sending any Christmas cards out until Christmas Eve. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Space. When you’re buying your stamps or posting your cards, the post office on Christmas Eve is a far more convivial atmosphere than the post office on December 18^th. When I’m posting my cards tomorrow, I’m going to be alone, with just the post office staff wearing their Santa hats and antlers, and eating their mince pies, (which they’ll probably share with me). And, instead of being stuck in a long mazy queue of grey people coughing, I’m going to have space to stretch my arms out and spin around. And that’s what I’m going to do; just because I can. And because it’s less cruel than swinging a cat.

2. Time. Leaving the cards until the last minute will have other benefits too. Had I written my cards early I’d have spent lots of time writing them out neatly, but I didn’t do that this year, and now that Christmas Eve is almost upon us, I’m doing the Christmas cards as a rush job. So that’s a lot less time that I’ve spent writing cards: Time that I was able to use more productively. I didn’t obviously, I spent it mulling things and playing Angry Birds. I also photoshopped a hat onto the statue of liberty. But it’s still time saved.

3. Inclusivity. It’s more inclusive if I send my cards on Christmas Eve. After all, I’m notoriously forgetful, but I know who I’ve received a card from because there’s a bushel of them in the living room. Or a gross. Or a flock (I have no idea how quantities of cards are measured), so it’s easy enough for me to work out who’s sent them and reply. So if you’ve sent me a card, you’ll get one in return: And if you haven’t, then you won’t. Obviously if anyone else is using the same system as me then that’s unfortunate, but if they are, that would benefit the…

4. Environment. That the Christmas cards I’ve sent won’t be received until after Christmas is good for the planet. Because no one sends out a Christmas card after Christmas, so people won’t send out any cards in reply to mine. So there’ll be less wasted paper, and I’ll have less recycling to do in January. Which is great, as the first recycling day of the New Year is usually like some sort of glass-themed labour of Hercules, but without Hercules and starring me instead.

5. Blame. And no one even need know that their cards weren’t sent until Christmas Eve (unless they’re reading this. Damn) because what’s the default opinion on the Royal Mail in this country? It’s that they’re hapless and inefficient. That’s not strictly true. Most of the time, they’re dedicated people doing a fine, and quite thankless, job, but they’ll automatically get the blame for the tardy arrival of my cards anyway. But that’s their problem and I don’t mind using it to my advantage. After all, I’ve never been stupid enough to change my name to Consignia and they have.

6. How To Win Friends And Influence People. When no card arrives before Christmas, friends, family and acquaintances will probably think “The bastard! He hasn’t sent us a folded over piece of paper with a picture of a fat, bearded man on the front and some illegible scrawl within! How could he do this to me?” But then, when the card turns up a few days after Christmas (“bloody post office”) they’ll feel loved and wanted again. And they’ll feel bad for thinking ill of me, which they’ll probably compensate for by being even more well-disposed toward me than usual. So if I keep doing this every Christmas, people will eventually feel so much affection for me that they will probably erect statues of me when I’m in my old age. I could get canonized! I could become the next Princess Diana!*

7. Finances. I won’t need to buy cards until the last minute, by which time I’ll know exactly how many I need. So none will be wasted. So I’ll be saving money. That’s money that I can spend on other Christmas things like candles that get brought out once a year that nobody ever lights, or those owl baubles that my wife saw (because nothing says Christmas more than a rodent-terrorising bird of prey hanging from a tree). By leaving the cards until the last moment, I’m going to be better off financially, and I’m going to benefit in many, many other ways too. I’m a genius! A mean genius. I’m a meanius!

*But my mother-in-law won’t be on the stamps.

December 23, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons That Christmas ALWAYS Gets Me in the End

It’s Saturday, and the 7 Reasons team have abandoned the sofa in order to rush, blinking out into the sunlight like pit-ponies escaping from their daily labour. But, fear not, for the sofa is in safe hands. Guest hosting this week is the lovely Liz Gregory – that’s right, her of Things to do in Manchester fame – who despite being from Manchester, isn’t going to prattle on about Coronation Street, she’s going to talk about Christmas. Now settle down, children, and she’ll begin.

Every year it’s the same. I roll my eyes at those poor souls who have done all their present shopping by August; I can tut as cynically as anyone at the Christmas songs repeated on an endless, hideous loop in certain shops from the beginning of November. I am a grown woman with a full time job, and the shameless commercial enterprise that is Christmas has no place in my busy and important lifestyle. But by December, I’m hooked, brimming with festive excitement. Again. Here’s why….

1. The weather. Surely even the most hardened and wizened of souls must admit that nothing looks more enticingly festive than a fresh coating of snow, with the power to wipe out an ugly urban landscape of wheelie bins and cat poo, and replace it with pristine perfection. And I say this despite the fact that I am seemingly the only teacher in the UK not to have received a single snow day in the recent bad weather – I have had to go to work and perform the job for which I am paid EVERY SINGLE DAY.

2. Rosy-cheeked children. No, not the bratty whiny ones running amok in the supermarket trying to grab everything in sight – they are the ones to avoid if you’re trying to be misty-eyed and non-cynical about Christmas. I mean the angelic ones who assemble at Christmas lights switch-ons, warbling traditional festive songs and obligingly going “ooohhh” when the lights are turned on.

3. The Christmas Radio Times. I take enormous comfort in the fact that even though we live in a high-tech, culturally diverse society where we celebrate individuality and cutting-edge modernity, at least fifty percent of the UK will have spent the last week leafing through the Christmas Radio Times, armed with a marker pen, drawing wonky circles around the plethora of bad television they wish to watch this Yuletide. The fact that you will only actually watch three of these programmes is entirely besides the point – the pleasure lies in the selection, not the viewing.

4. Alcohol. One of the overwhelming perks of December is that it becomes socially acceptable to consume alcohol at virtually any time of day without anyone raising their eyebrows and calling you an alky. So that means sherry at elevenses is fine, as is bucks fizz at breakfast and Amaretto Sours at lunch. I do not, of course, live like this at other times of the year.

5. Decorations. Yes, Nigella is annoying, but I do admire the fact that her house (or her studio-masquerading-as-house, one is never quite sure) appears to be permanently bedecked with fairy lights. I am not brave enough to try to convince my husband that this is acceptable all year round, which means I must make the most of the carte blanche that Christmas brings. Turn the big light off, switch the fairy lights on, and hey presto! Your house instantly looks clean and tidy in the murky pixie gloom.

6. Food. I am by nature a most abstemious person, unlikely to over-indulge in any way, but the range of tasty morsels positively flung one’s way at this time of year makes it impossible to refuse. As with the alcohol, it is de rigueur to adjust one’s notions of what acceptably constitutes a balanced meal – as long as you select items from both the savoury AND the sweet party food ranges, you should be absolutely fine.

7. Two weeks off. I enjoy my job, and by anyone’s standards, working in a college in the run up to Christmas must surely be as good a place to be as any. Giant tins of Quality Street lurk at every turn, and teaching English means that the final week offers plenty of chances to watch Wuthering Heights and eat popcorn. And yet, the prospect of two weeks off, spent lolling on the sofa, opening the odd present and reverting to a lifestyle where your mum brings you a cup of tea in bed in the morning, is surely something to be cherished.

So, if anyone fancies a mince pie or three in the semi-gloom of my Nigella kitchen I’ll see you shortly; only visitors bearing sherry will be admitted, mind.

December 11, 2010
7 Reasons to Embrace Junk Mail

Junk mail. No one likes it, but there are valid reasons to embrace it. We don’t mean give it a cuddle, that would be weird; we mean accept and enjoy it, because there are – fortunately for us – almost seven reasons to.

Junk Mail (Image courtesy of Stop Junk Mail)*

1. Wanted. There is something very comforting about the sound of your letter box opening and something dropping onto the floor. It makes you feel wanted and loved. If it’s a bill then it’s good to know British Gas care that you are still alive and if it’s junk mail – probably from the local estate agent asking you if you would like to consider selling your house to a family of five who have just moved to the area – well it’s good to know that they think you are friendly. You know, the kind of person who would consider moving for a family of five. The estate agents wouldn’t put the same letter through Lord Sugar’s letter box would they? No. Because he has evil in his eyes. And a guard dog.

2. New Experiences. One of the most regular pieces of junk mail that adorns house mats all over the country are those from local (and not so local) take-away restaurants. Whether it’s Indian, Chinese, Taiwanese, Bangladeshi, Italian or Chav, what a great way to start experiencing a different culture. It might only take you one chicken dansak to decide that you want to go and experience India for itself or it might only take one late pizza delivery by a teenager who calls you ‘boss’ to make you decide you are living in the wrong part of town.

3. Pens. They say that you can never have too many pens. And fortunately, charities have challenged this age-old assumption by providing them to us free of charge to us via the medium of junk mail. And it turns out that you can have too many pens. I write stuff every day, in fact you’re reading it now. I write far more than the average person and rarely use a pen. I require one pen, for the purpose of writing down random notes that I can’t read later on and eventually turn into paper aeroplanes. Fortunately though, there is an alternate use for all of the pens that charities send to me at a loss. I use them as legs for my four-legged (and six-legged) potato animals. I clearly have too many pens. And potatoes.

4. Rubbish. To be embraced heavily are those charity bags that get stuck in your letter box. You know, those that the charities ask you to fill with old and unwanted clothes. Well, if you do manage to remove them from the letter box without ripping them, they make brilliant bin bags. Don’t go walking down the street swinging one around in the breeze though, you’ll become a prime chugger target. You’ll get chugged. In a chugging.

5. Baldness. We don’t know everything about the 7 Reasons readership. The 7 Reasons team both have hair, and we imagine that our readers do too. But there may be some who are afflicted with baldness. And, if there should be such people reading, they might learn from this use of junk-mail. Because back – way back – in history, in a time almost lost to human memory there was once a thing, a sort of a big flaming ball of heat and light that dwelt in the sky. Some cultures worshipped it, some feared it, and it had many names. Here, it was known as the sun. And, in those far-gone days, when it lit up the sky, it was a menace to the follicularly challenged who lacked the natural protection from its rays that the rest of us take for granted. But with junk-mail there’s always a free emergency hat lying on their doormat, waiting to be origamied. Just in case the great orb in the sky should ever reappear, as unlikely as that seems.

6. Love. If this isn’t enough to satisfy your junk mail habit, then the final option is to create a junk mail-mache person. Then you can really embrace it if you are that way inclined. Or a pervert as it is more commonly known. Just make sure they are dry first.*

7. Lifestyle. As a guide to living, junk mail is invaluable. Want to know what not to eat or drink? All of that information is conveniently posted unsolicited through your letterbox. Whether it’s takeaways, highly dubious drinks delivery services, or the offers at your local branch of Londis. If a picture of something (these things are always pictorial) comes through your letterbox, then it’s disgusting and common and bad for you. Yet surprisingly tempting when drunk; which is how they get you, by the way. They expect you to read them when you’re lying face-down on your own doormat having just made it home from a big night out; when your guard is down. Why else would they put them there? Bastards.

*Because wet perverts are the worst kind.

You can also use it to make one of these!

*If you can’t find the love to embrace junk mail, check out Stop Junk Mail here.

December 10, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Badges

A long, long time ago, way back in the mists of 7 Reasons(.org) history, Jon promised that there would be badges for guest posters, and Marc rolled his eyes and said, “SHH! You’ll bankrupt us before we’ve even started.” But now, many months – possibly even a whole year later – we have an announcement to make about badges for guest posters.

We’ve never forgotten the promised badges, and just recently we took another look into the 7 Reasons coffers (once we’d located them in a dusty ante-room) to see if badges were now feasible. As we expectantly lifted the heavy wooden lid of our treasure chest it creaked with reassuring portent and, with the light of our torches to guide us, we peered into the interior of the dark, gloomy box.

To say that we were amazed by what we found there would be an understatement. After we had emptied the contents of the chest into a pile on the floor and methodically totalled it up, we were staggered.

So now, we can announce that the 7 Reasons Badge Fund stands at…(drum-roll)…(go on, just bang on the desk, no one will think you’re mad)…half a dead spider, a creased Post-it® note, the crumbs from several ginger nut biscuits, twelve business cards, a mug with a broken handle and a lemon. Plus some blue stuff that neither of us wanted to touch.

But necessity is the mother of invention and we’re nothing if not creative here so we’ve made badges anyway. For free. In Photoshop. So if you write (or have written) for us, you can now have a 7 Reasons Guest Writer badge simply by sending us a photograph of yourself. And we’ll send it back with your badge on it.

Not only will this help us achieve our goal of not running 7 Reasons at a loss one day, it’s also far more environmentally friendly than an actual, physical badge, which benefits the whole world. So the virtual badge is something worthy, it’s a force for good. It’s actually saving penguins.

A guest poster has already taken us up on our virtual badge offer (in fact, it’s what convinced him to write for us in the first place). Here is Sir Andrew Straussy jubilantly wearing his:

And here’s an owl wearing his (because one day, we hope to convince an owl to write for us (and the virtual badge is less cruel than an actual one)).

We also sent (to the lady herself) a picture of Jennifer Aniston wearing a badge and we received this in return.

So this probably means that marriage is still out of the question.

Anyway, the point of all of these badge-related-shenanigans is to mention that we’re currently looking for more guest posts. So, if you’ve never written for us, or if you have; if you have an idea, or even half an idea (because that’s how we work most of the time), then please get in touch.

We have always felt genuinely honoured and flattered that brilliant people, who write to such a high standard, have submitted pieces for us to use, and we hope that – one day – we will be able to reward their endeavours with something more tangible than our thanks, our admiration and our love (which, to be honest may put people off). Perhaps in the form of a badge, perhaps in the form of money, perhaps we will build a shrine, who knows? Anyway, however we decide to reward guest posters when we are dripping with the riches of Croseous, the fact remains that we aren’t right now, but we do feel genuinely humble – and honoured – that people read us regularly and that people allow us to use their work.

Anyway, if you fancy earning yourself some thanks, some publicity and a virtual badge then email [email protected]. We don’t promise to use everything that’s sent to us (because, well, we might not like it, and if we didn’t have standards, then we wouldn’t feel proud of our own website ). We will always consider it, however, and are happy to offer guidance or advice, where solicited.

Here’s a brief guide to writing a post for us. Thanks,

Marc and Jon.

December 5, 2010
7 Reasons That Postcards Should Be More Honest

Postcards. They’re not honest enough. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Blackpool. This is what a holiday in Blackpool actually looks like. I’ve been there. Many times. Other postcards may not show this, but forewarned is forearmed.

2. Bondi Beach. Sending a postcard from Australia, where it’s nice and warm and sunny you’re having a good time is ostentatious and likely to cause the recipient a pang of envy. Negate the envy by showing the reality. That you’re being eaten by a shark. Or a crocodile. Or a spider.

3. Welwyn Garden City. If the postcard isn’t honest, the recipient might get a false impression of a destination and may choose to visit it themselves. This would be a mistake.

4. Slough! You don’t want to get people’s hopes up about what they can expect as a present. Unless you show the iconic local product on your postcard, they might expect all sorts of exotica: A sombrero; a stuffed donkey; a bottle of wine in a wicker basket; an owl. You need to let them know that they aren’t getting any of these things.

5. The Natural History Museum. Or, you can subvert an entire genre of postcards and send this. That should make the recipient nervous until your return.

6. Yorkshire. You don’t want the recipient to feel as if they’re missing out on lots of sunshine, warmth and an exotic climate. Let them know what the weather’s really like where you are.

7. Candour. Ever wondered why the sender always returns from holiday before the postcard? Well wonder no more. It’s because they don’t care enough about you.

November 17, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Killing Three Lemons With One Cat

Hello! It’s me, Jon (the one with the ginger moustache and no feet if you’ve just been looking at our ‘About Us’ page). It’s Sunday and for a second Sunday in a row I am in charge of Sundays. Marc has taken the day off to be in charge of lemons. The more observant of you will have noticed a new category at the header of the site. ‘Top Posts’. As the name suggests, this category features our best posts. These have been determined by a number of factors, such as number of views, but it is in no way a definitive list. This is where you come in. In October, 7 Reasons will be celebrating its first birthday. We are already making plans and the lemon drizzle cake is only surpassed by the lemonade. On our birthday we would like to announce the greatest 7 Reasons post ever. As voted by you, our loyal, not so loyal and ‘how-the-hell-did-I-end-up-on-this-site’ readers. Our first aim is to create a shortlist of ten posts. And that, you’ll be pleased to hear, is your responsibility. Please feel free to check the Top Posts (and, if you are inclined, the rest of the site) and let us know which of the posts you loved/liked/thought were bearable. Then all you have to do is check back in two weeks time, when one of us (hopefully Marc) will have worked out how the hell we do a poll on this site. Thanks for your help!

Oh, and one lucky voter will win a signed lemon. Or two. Or ten.

September 12, 2010
7 Reasons That This Is Not A Circular

A buff envelope has arrived. It bears the legend, “THIS IS NOT A CIRCULAR”. But I already know that. I can tell.

I made this in Photoshop to protect confidential information and to prevent the internet from stealing my soul. (I am referring to the envelope. I did not construct Milton Keynes in Photoshop)

1. It Has A Puzzling Series Of Numbers And Letters Above My Name. No one receives circulars with baffling and impenetrable sets of numbers on them – unless they subscribe to a sudoko magazine – so it’s definitely not a circular. The reference numbers and letters are a puzzle in themselves though: Why are there so many of them? Does this organisation really need a forty-six character indexing system? Is it merely coincidence that my waist size and the amount of times I’ve eaten trifle in the past six months are contained within the numbers? Is this what happened to Dan Brown?

2. It’s From Rhyll. Circulars tend to be fun, exciting things that you’ve subscribed to, and are happy to receive. They don’t come from Ryhll: Home of nothing fun and exciting (It’s the town motto).

3. It Says “PRIVATE AND CONFIDENTIAL” On It. It doesn’t just say “private and confidential”; it shouts it with great portent, in a bold, roman font in capital letters. This is presumably to instil terror into the heart of any ne’er do well that may be thinking of breaking into the letter. It commands non-addressees not to open it. The contents couldn’t be safer if they digitally encoded them and gave them to MI5. Really, they couldn’t.

4. I Can See That It’s Not A Circular. It’s got four corners. It’s a rectangular.

5. Because My Name Is Spelled Correctly. It’s an easy giveaway. No circular – The Chap magazine, the Isle of Wight Donkey Sanctuary newsletter, Tiramisu Consumers Monthly, the Rohan catalogue (as soon as I finish writing this, I’m going to subscribe to more interesting things, I promise) – ever spells my name correctly. It’s the law. Some of them (I’m thinking of you, Font Magazine) manage to spell both of my names incorrectly – and my address – though it is done very neatly and tastefully.

6. It’s In A Buff Envelope. No fun personal correspondence comes in a buff envelope. None. In fact, nothing exciting comes in a buff envelope. White envelopes, yes. Yellow envelopes, yes. Purple envelopes, yes…every colour other than buff, which isn’t even a colour, except on envelopes. Has anyone ever painted their house buff? No, they haven’t. That would be silly. And dull.

7. Because I Don’t Want To Open It. I feel an instinctive aversion to opening the envelope. It looks like it contains something really boring. This never happens with circulars, except the Toolstation catalogue (white envelope), which always reminds me that I should be hammering and banging at something, and that I don’t own enough power-tools (to build a nuclear submarine). If you want me to open the envelope print, “THIS IS A CIRCULAR” on it, or add a picture of a happy dog to the front. That may fool me. Then I won’t ignore it while I write about it before heading off to do something more interesting than reading it. Visiting a quilt museum, for example.

August 11, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: How To Write A 7 Reasons Post

Since the inception of 7 Reasons, we have – as often as possible – given our Saturdays over to one of you. It helps mix it up and I am sure it’s always good to have a different tone of voice to enjoy your breakfast with. However, the feedback we always get from our guest writers is, ‘it was really hard to think of 7 reasons’. The answer we usually get from people we approach to write for us is, ‘no, I won’t be able to think of 7 reasons for anything’. Well by way of an education, this is my attempt at showing you how it can be done.

1. Everything is a possible subject. Wherever you are, look around you. (Though come back to the screen in 10 seconds because I still require your attention). Whatever you can see could be a subject. A vase. A chair. A window. A packet of chocolate digestives. Just pick one.

2. Question Time. Ask yourself questions about your chosen subject. Let’s say it’s a vase. (I haven’t thought about this before. I am writing it as I go. If it goes horribly wrong I’ll rewrite using biscuits, but that won’t happen because I have faith in my ability to write about vases). a) What would I do to that vase to make it better? b) Why is it made out of glass? c) What else could it be used for?

3. Answer your questions. a) Make it bigger. Make it stronger. Paint it a different colour. b) Because cardboard would get damp. Because that’s what glassmakers make things out of. c) Holding pencils. Carrying water. Carrying petrol. Knocking a robber over the head.

4. Analysis. Which answers do you like better? Which do you feel you could write most confidentally about? Which answers did you enjoy writing more. For me, it was probably the answer to ‘c)’.

5. Conclusion. Work out what you’ve written. In this instance I have written down four uses for a vase. Well I can’t do, 7 Uses For a Vase, the poxy website is called 7 Reasons. How am I going to get reasons in there? Play around with it. Make different words the subject of your title. 7 Reasons To Use A Vase. 7 Reasons A Vase Is Useful. 7 Reasons To Own A Vase. And there it is. 7 Reasons To Own A Vase.

6. Expand. You already have four reasons for this. Okay so carrying water and carrying petrol are very similar so maybe that’s one reason. You need four more. What’s the obvious reason? To put flowers in. At this point you’re probably thinking that’s not funny. That’s because it’s not. So twist it. What would happen if you didn’t have a vase and someone bought you flowers? Where would you put them? In the plug hole? Probably not. That’ll be a nuisance when doing the dishes. In a glass? A cocktail umbrella is probably better. That’s four reasons. What else could you use it as? Again look around. It’s sunny. You could use it to magnify the suns rays and make a small fire. That chair, the leg is a bit wobbly. Put the shorter leg in the vase. Look at the vase. The shape of it. It makes your face look a funny shape. A bit like those funny mirrors at fairgrounds. What a great way to keep the children entertained. And for free! I don’t have children? So what? We don’t mind lies. This isn’t the Chilcott enquiry.

7. Shape It. Suddenly you have your 7 reasons. Write them out. Keep them short(ish). Decide an order. The more obvious reasons first, the wild ones later. Above all though, be you and be your writing style. Then send it to us. Done.

And that is all there is to it. You want a go now don’t you? Good. We’ll look forward to reading it. (Oh, and if you want to use us to plug your business/blog/twitter account, well Jon is quite happy to take payment, write your reasons and put your name on it. Just don’t tell Marc).

March 7, 2010
7 Reasons to Send a Christmas Card

1. Self promotion. Every year, Michael Winner sends out a Christmas card that promotes him, his books and his television show. He’ll send it to any of the readers of his Winner’s Dinners column in the Sunday Times who send him their address. Would you want Michael Winner to have your address? What if he came to visit? What if he told you to “calm down, dear”? The best case scenario is that you’ll get something with a picture of Michael Winner on it. Repeatedly having your middle-toe hit with a hammer is a better case scenario than that.

2. Comedy. If you send a Christmas card without a stamp on, your friend may be forced to go miles to his local post office to pay for the postage. When he phones up to complain, you can tell him that you’ll reimburse him for the amount he was charged, and send him a cheque in an envelope without a stamp on it, forcing him to go back to the post office and pay the excess postage once more. This actually happened to a friend of mine. I was the culprit. The following year I sent him a CD in a box large enough to accommodate an average-sized refrigerator, knowing he would be out at the time of delivery, forcing him to go back to the post office once more. I am a bad man.

3. Cheque. You might want to send a cheque as a Christmas present, and what better place to put it than inside a Christmas card? As you slide the cheque into the card, you can imagine the recipient’s beaming face as they gratefully receive their gift. Obviously, this is not what happens in the real world. The standard reaction to receiving a cheque is to stare at it blankly for several seconds before exclaiming “A cheque! What is this, the dark ages?” The recipient, used to the wonder that is internet banking, will have to go into town and trudge round for ages, attempting to find a branch of their bank that hasn’t closed down. It will probably rain on them while they’re doing this. They will be cold, they will be wet, they will be tired, they will complain about the experience on the internet. They will not be grateful.

4. Handwriting. A Christmas card is your annual opportunity to handwrite something. It’s surprising how hard it is when you’re out of practice, and it’s surprising how tired your hand gets. My cards look like they were written by a messy child when I start them, and a messy child’s dog by the time I finish.

5. Newsletter. Unbelievably, there are people out there who don’t have blogs. These people will sometimes try to impart a whole years worth of family news in a newsletter contained within the Christmas card. These soporific missives usually contain tedious accounts of the summer holiday in Bermuda, Trevor’s hectic year at the office (who knew there was so much to write about human resources?) and Melanie’s second year at Bath (minus all of the interesting bits, as she hasn’t passed those on to her parents). You can send your own newsletter in a card too, containing your description of how you invented the iPob (a portable device to store and play classic children’s television programmes), a torrid account of your affair with Jennifer Aniston and some pictures from your holiday on the moon. You can write anything you want in a newsletter, no one reads them.

6. Protest. When you send a Christmas card you can use a special Christmas stamp without a picture of the Queen on it. Replacing The Queen with a reindeer is one in the eye for the oppressive monarchical hierarchy, and it would also give Prince Philip somewhere to hang his hat.

7. It’s nice. Obviously there are some sad, lonely people out there who might not expect to receive any Christmas cards. It’s not nice to think of anyone not receiving a card so it’s heartening to remember that Jan Moir can actually go out and post a Christmas card to herself.

December 21, 2009