Tag: Reasons

Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Chase The World’s Most Dangerous Motor Race In A Rentcar

If you are one of our Argentinian or Chilean based readers, you may have seen bikes, quads, cars and trucks flying through your garden in the last week. This, we must point out, is not the doing of 7 Reasons. Instead we point you in the direction of the Dakar Rally which is currently winging its way through the deserts of South America. The Dakar Rally is widely acknowledge as both the toughest and most dangerous motor race in the world. You’d think, therefore, that chasing the race in a rentacar – while filming it – is a rather crazy thing to do. Well not if you are Simon Lee. Simon did exactly that this time last year and the result is the film Dream Racer – to be released later this year. Before you head off to the cinema though, let’s find out why Simon did it.

1. Because You Gotta Do What You Gotta Do. I’ve wanted to make a movie like this for so long that when I met Christophe and heard about his dream of finishing the Dakar Rally on his motorbike, I knew I HAD to do it. I couldn’t get a broadcaster to back it, so I couldn’t afford a camera crew, a sound man a producer or any of the usual things you would have on a shoot like this. Ultimately I just thought “sod it, it’s now or never”, clawed together just enough cash to get me there, left my wife in Australia with our 6 week old daughter, flew to Argentina and made a movie.

2. Because Nothing Beats Asking A Hertz Clerk For “A Rentacar To Do The Dakar Rally”. Ok, I wasn’t quite “doing” the Dakar Rally, but I was about to drive 10,000 km across some of the harshest terrain on earth. And I drove it in a 2 wheel drive roller skate with a 1.4 litre engine – a Fiat Sienna.

3. Because The Dakar Is The Greatest Mechanical Show On Earth. Despite having spent the best part of 18 months working on this film project, I’m not actually a big fan of motorsport. That said, there is something extraordinary about watching tons of steel hurtling down sand dunes the size of mountains. It’s particularly exciting when you’re playing “dodge the hurtling tons of steel” whilst filming.

4. Because Real Life Delivers Better Scripts Than You Could Ever Write. When I embarked on the project, I knew that it had potential as a great adventure documentary, but I could never have anticipated just what a roller coaster journey it would turn out to be. 3 weeks before the start of the race, it looked like it wasn’t going to happen, then out of the blue, Christophe empties his bank account and enters. Then he calls up the KTM factory in Austria to arrange payment for the bike he’d ordered, and they’d sold it to someone else! I mean, you wouldn’t write this stuff. Then to do the whole race without even a mechanic, get seriously injured, ride a perfect stage in the desert and still finish the race – this is the stuff of Hollywood blockbusters – just without the multi-million dollar budget.

5. Because There’s A Chilean Radio Station That Plays Non-stop Late Eighties/Early Nineties Hits. Driving interminable miles across the Atacama Desert afforded me ample opportunity to re-live my musical youth. I think I may even have sung out loud to the Soup Dragons “I’m Free”.

6. Because If It’s Easy It’s Probably Not Worth Doing. Making this movie has been one of the hardest things that I have done (and it’s not quite over yet). Everything – from chasing funds, to three draining weeks in South America, to trying to balance the project with being a half decent father and husband as well and keep money coming in to pay the bills – has been bloody hard. But boy did it feel good being there to film Christophe crossing the line, knowing everything we had been through to get there! As you’ll see in the movie, it was a pretty emotional moment…

7. Because Maverick Solo Movies Are Where It’s At. There’s something equally terrifying and exhilarating about going it alone on a project like this. At the end of the day it comes down to raw drive and creativity and the ever-present question of “just how badly do you want this?” I truly hope that this comes through in the film, because ultimately that’s what it’s about – the story of what happens when you stop listening to the excuses conjured up by your rational mind, and act instead on the niggling inner voice that’s urging you to step out and live your dreams.

Dream Racer will be released mid-2011. To view the trailer and follow the progress of the Dream Racer project, join the Dream Racer Facebook group.

January 15, 2011
7 Reasons Reccurring Dreams Are Annoying

I had a dream last night. And the other week. And last month. And the month before that. It’s getting boring now. Annoying even.

1. Repetition. As one may have established a reccurring dream is one that happens time after time after time. I suffer with one. It’s about me, back at school or university, with an impending deadline. The problem is, I haven’t even started doing my work. The scenario usually means I have twenty-four hours to write a dissertation. As dreams go, it is rubbish. I’d be annoyed if it happened once in a year, but to have it once every couple of weeks is just plain tiresome.

2. Panic. Despite the fact that it is a dream, I can’t help but get in panic. Though it’s an odd panic. In my dream I am not panicking. Which annoys me for starters, but it’s not half as annoying as the panic I feel in the sleeping me. As if I am watching my dream from above yet I am unable to control any of my actions. I want myself to panic, in much the same way as I want England to play good football. The more I want it though, the more I seem to laugh about the situation. In much the same way as the more I want England to play good football, the more Emile Heskey touches the ball.

3. Logic. Or should that be the lack of it. In last nights dream I appeared to be less interested in getting to the library to do my work and instead was solely focused on returning the ‘Automatic Putting Device’ to its home in the shed. No, I have no idea what an ‘Automatic Putting Device’ is either. Nor why it lives in a shed. In real-life I would like to think I would question such a thing, but in my dream state it was as natural to me as scratching my armpit.

4. Meaning. What does a reccurring dream about not doing your coursework mean? It’s not as if when I was at school or university I didn’t do my work and get it in on time. Well, not often anyway. So it’s not as if I am re-living my younger days and it’s not a metaphor for my attitude today. If I don’t have any work I can hardly hand it in late can I? It’s baffling.

5. People. None of my friends or family ever appear in my reccurring dreams, which seems somewhat ironic seeing as they are the reccurring characters in my life. Instead, I end up being friends with someone from school or university who I have never been friends with in my life. That’s not to say I disliked them, we just didn’t hang around together. In my dream though, we seem to do nothing but hang around together. Hang around together not doing our coursework and taking Automatic Putting Devices to sheds. Hardly the stuff of legend.

6. Realisation. That moment when I wake up and realise it was all a dream. Again. I curse myself for being unable to dream about something more interesting. Cricket or tea or an opossum. And then I curse myself for not realising during the dream that I was dreaming. Why can’t I just recognise that I have been here before? Why can’t I wake myself up, turn over and think about Dame Edna Everage talking to her opossums? Why? Why can’t I?

7. Resentment. They say the grass is always greener on the other side. Sometimes, this is ridiculously wide of the mark, but when it comes to me and my dreams, it is as true as the existence of you and me. If there is ever a conversation about dreams, I try and avoid it. I don’t want to listen to their tales of heroism and joviality. I get jealous. Why them? Why not me? Even more frustrating is when I am asked if I had a dream. I can only describe the feeling as one of loneliness and inadequacy. And it keeps me annoyed for the rest of the day.

January 14, 2011
7 Reasons The Discovery Of Kepler 10b Is A Complete Anti-Climax

If you haven’t heard the news today, let us break it to you gently. We’ve found a new planet. When I say ‘we’, I obviously don’t mean the 7 Reasons team – we are still busy trying to find all the lemon pips that fell down the back of the 7 Reasons sofa. So when I say ‘we’, I am obviously referring to those clever astronomer people over at NASA. Today they announced the discovery of Kepler 10b. The smallest planet outside our Solar System and one that is rocky like Earth. Awesome, huh? No, not really. Here’s why:

1. The Name. Kepler 10b? Now I know that the telescope they found this planet with is called Kepler, but that is hardly an excuse. It’s lazy naming. It lacks inspiration. To be honest, it sounds like a planet I wrote about in Ice Planet 2000 (my entry in the Nutley Primary School short story competition in circa 1990). You may have read it. I didn’t. Which explains the spelling mistakes. Anyway, I digress. Kepler 10b is lacklustre and hardly has the naming appeal of other confectionery delights such as Galaxy, Milky Way and Mars. Whoever works in the marketing department at NASA needs to think outside the box a bit more.

2. Distance. Yet another planet that is bloody light-years away. 560 of the gits to be precise. If I want to visit, I’m going to be gone for hundreds and hundreds of years. I’m not going to find a suitcase big enough. And that’s not even the worst of it. As a result of Kepler 10b’s discovery, I have discovered something of my own. The film, Flight Of The Navigator lied to me. In the film, David got to Phaleon (a planet also 560 light-years away) and back within eight years. I have just looked on Yahoo! Answers and people – sensible people with letters after their name – are saying this is bollocks. I can’t quite explain how let down I feel.

3. Heat. If the fact that Kepler 10b is so far away isn’t enough, there is also the fact that it’s bloody boiling over there. I lived in Perth for a few months (the Australian version, not the Scottish one) and my thighs were cramping up as soon as it reached 40 degrees Celsius. I dread to think how I would cope in temperatures exceeding 1,300C during the day. And I burn like McCoy’s Steak and Onion crisp.

4. No Life. Not that there would be much point in me going there anyway, because yet again we find a planet and yet again there is no sign of life on it. Which makes me wonder, are these astronomers really worth the money? If we just wrote the numbers 1-7 in every 7 Reasons post, you’d quickly get bored. It’s time NASA started delivering the goods. They have a year to find life or else we are going to diversify and form Two Observe Seven Space Exploratory Reasons. Or TOSSER for short.

5. Artists Impression. When someone places a shopping trolley in a bath and calls it ‘art’ I have a big problem. Not just because it’s not art – it’s theft and vandalism – but because the creator of the piece automatically becomes an ‘artist’. In my life – and I think it’s almost a given that one day it will be a template on how to live – an artist is someone who creates something that I can’t. And, as I will prove if you need, I am quite capable of stealing a trolley from Tesco and putting it in my girlfriend’s bath. Do you know what else I am good at? Drawing a circle. Especially if I have a glass to draw around. I can even colour it in. I am not an artist, yet the result would look exactly like the picture that heads this post. A picture that is an artists impression. Nauseating.

6. Excitement. Geoffrey Marcy, a pioneer for the hunt of exoplanets said, “This report will be marked as among the most profound scientific discoveries in human history.” Wow! Maybe this isn’t the anticlimax I thought it was. And then I watched this.

The video is narrated by Dr. Natalie Batalha, the Kepler Mission Co-Investigator. Someone, who if Geoffrey Marcy is to be believed, I would have expected to be very, very excited. If this really is one of the most profound scientific discoveries in human history I want to hear Dr. Natalie breathless and panting. This is, after all, what I am like when England take a wicket. But Dr. Natalie doesn’t sound breathless at all. She sounds bored. And then she starts talking about ‘mosaics of 42 detectors’. I do not care about mosaics. I do not. If this is amazing I want to hear screaming. And maybe an impromptu recital of ‘Star Spangled Banner’. Or something by ELO.

7. Earth. Kepler 10b is, “undoubtedly rocky like Earth”. I don’t understand why this is so incredible. I’ve seen Earth. Well, some of it at least. I want to see something new. And not one of those stupid gas planets either. I want a planet that is 100% water. Not ice, water. I want a planet that looks like a sausage. Or, even better, a planet that morphs into a sausage from its 100% water state. This, I have to say, would excite not just me, but the world and Dr. Natalie too. And that makes it worth looking for, doesn’t it?

January 11, 2011
7 Reasons The Gents Is Not The Place For Conversation

Given my reputation as someone who has a butler, this may come as something of a shock. I use public toilets. Though sometimes I wish I didn’t.

I follow the maze of corridors and eventually find the door to the Gents. It’s empty as I walk in. And silent. Until I hear…

1. “Alright?” I’m a bit startled by this. A voice has never said ‘alright’ to me before. Not in the toilets. I spin around but there is no one there. No one. Not a sign of life anywhere. This is new territory. And I don’t like it very much. Now, for 7 reasons that I can’t explain, I believe in God. And one day, if I’m good, I hope to meet him. What I never expected, was that I’d meet him on a Saturday afternoon in the pub toilet. I suspect that is probably the romantic in me. I’m not quite sure what to say back. With my hand hovering near my flies I suddenly feel very self-conscious. Part of me thinks, ‘Hello Sir’ would be a suitable reply, but then my legs seem to want me to curtsy. My thinking must have lasted quite a while because before I have the chance to reply I hear the voice again.

2. “Hello.” This time I follow the direction in which the voice has come. And I see a cubicle with a shut door. I immediately feel stupid. It wasn’t God. It was some bloke sitting on the loo. And all of a sudden this thought hits me very hard. There is a bloke; sitting on a loo; in a public toilet; trying to talk to me. I don’t like this. I don’t like this at all. I want to run but I haven’t even started my public facilities objective yet. I hurry to the nearest convenience, desperately hoping I don’t hear the voice again. But I do.

3. “How’s it going?” How’s it going? How’s it going?! What sort of a question is that?! Between you and me, I can tell you it was going very nicely thank you, but I’m not going to tell him that am I?! My heart is racing a bit now. I know exactly what is happening. All this sweet talking has one and only one aim. He wants to pick me up.

4. “Hey Dave, that is you isn’t it?” Ah. Well maybe I was wrong. Maybe he doesn’t want to pick me up. Maybe he just wants to pick Dave up. Relief. At least relief until he says, “Dave?” And now I have a new problem. Quite clearly I am not Dave. I don’t look like Dave, I don’t sound like Dave, I don’t have a bladder like Dave’s. I’m Jon. But of course the bloke doesn’t know this because he can’t see me and I haven’t said anything. So to him, I am definitely Dave. So what do I do? I can’t say, “No, sorry mate, I’m Jon”. That would just embarrass both of us. I suppose I could pretend to be Dave, but when you are standing in the toilets the last thing you really want to be doing is pretending you are another man. So my only other option is to stay silent. And so that is exactly what I do. And silence works. Silence tells the bloke that I am not Dave. Silence tells the bloke that this is now an uncomfortable situation for both of us and as such he should remain in his cubicle until I have left. But that’s not what happens. Because all of a sudden I hear the sound of…

5. Water Flushing. What the hell?! What is he doing?! Doesn’t he know I am still here?! I feel like shouting, “Stay in there man! Do not leave the cubicle.” I need to get out of here. Before he opens the door. But I have had tea. A lot of tea. And, a bit like one’s relationship with Pringles, once one’s popped one can’t stop. I am sorry, but I have to tell you this so you understand the gravity of the situation, I am going on forever. But the good news is that the man hasn’t left the cubicle yet. Maybe he is waiting. Maybe it’s all going to be okay. I make it to the sink to wash my hands. And then the…

6. Door Opens. And our eyes meet in the reflection of the mirror. And for some reason neither of us can stop staring at each other. He looks uncomfortable. I feel uncomfortable. And we are still staring at each other. It’s only when I realise that I am scolding my hands under the hot tap that I can finally look away. He uses the sink next to me. I don’t dare look in the mirror. Instead I move quickly to the paper towels to dry my hands. Finally, the tension in the room is snapped, as someone enters the gents. I don’t care who it is, I don’t need to find out, I don’t need to look at them. I am just very grateful to them. Then they walk behind me and say…

7. “Alright Jon.” I spin around and say, “Hi!”. At exactly the same moment as the other bloke says, “Alright Dave.”

January 10, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: 7 Reasons Esq

Men of the world, have you ever been in the company of a woman? Has that woman ever told you she used to be a gymnast? Were you wearing a scarf at the time? If you answered ‘Yes’ to all three, you need to buy the February issue of Esquire.

Of course we wouldn’t just tell you to buy a magazine without good reason. Naturally, nor would we give you just one good reason. That is not how we operate. Except on Sundays. Because on Sundays, anything goes. And on Sundays we really can’t be bothered to think that much. So your one good reason to buy the February issue of Esquire is that we are in it. That’s right, after 15 months of web based reasoning we have moved across to printed press reasoning.

I say ‘we’, in truth I should probably say ‘Jonathan Lee’, because in a rather unfortunate episode of crediting, the name ‘Marc Fearns’ is no where to be seen. When you consider that Marc devised four of the seven reasons this is a cruel and a damning twist of fate. Marc is a fairly stoic character however, and so when I (that’s Jon) sent news of our publication and lack of credit to York, I was expecting him to take it in his stride. This was Marc’s response:

“That’s like getting an enormous, beautifully wrapped box for Christmas only to discover that it contains a brick. And a lemon. I suppose that this is some form of progress though. Well done on getting published. You know those embittered, crazy, dishevelled old men that hang around train stations and regale you with unsolicited and doubtful tales of their own accomplishments? “I devised a text-in format for Richard Bacon…I made my cat walk on foil…I used to write for Esquire…Robert De Niro stole my hat…I once met the Queen of the pigeons.” This is probably how it starts. Can you get them to put a retrospective credit in next month or should I start growing a grey beard and soiling my own trousers now?”

Now, I know exactly what word has sprung to mind. Immature. And I know immature sprung to mind because that is exactly what it did in mine. I have little time for immaturity and over-reaction in my life, so I ignored him. Which, in hindsight, was a bit like poking a big beast with a hot poker. After twenty-four hours without contact, Marc sent me a new email with ‘New Logo’ in it’s subject. Thinking that Marc had obviously mellowed overnight and was now concentrating on the design of the site, I openned the attachment with intrigue. This is what I found:

Now, I know exactly what word has sprung to mind. Petty. And I know petty has sprung to mind because that is exactly what it did in mine. I have little time for pettiness in my life, so I have continued to ignore him. Which only provoked the Yorkshire beast more. We are now in a stand-off John Wayne would have been proud of. Marc keeps firing photoshopped images at me and I keep shielding myself with my ego. Time will only tell whether 7 Reasons comes through this tricky patch, but just in case we don’t, we strongly advise you to pick up Esquire now. It may be the last time you will ever see 7 Reasons name in print. Well, Jonathan Lee’s anyway.

January 9, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Create The World’s Smallest Multinational

We like to think 7 Reasons is a pretty big organisation. We have offices in York and somewhere in Kent. We have a website, a facebook page, half a cat each, a specially designed sofa and a presence in Jennifer Anistons ‘Most Wanted Book’. That’s pretty good going in anyone’s language. Or so we thought. Now, one man has made us reassess. That man is Sebastien Eckersley-Maslin. In just four weeks Sebastien created the world’s smallest multinational. With offices in Sydney, Japan, London, Paris, New York and San Francisco he has made us look quite stupid. And this is why he has done it:

Sebastien Eckersley-Maslin – CEO Sebastien International

1. To Show That You Don’t Need To Be Big To Be Big. It’s that old David and Goliath story – you know, the one where the little guy in the cool minimalist leather sandals kills the big bad giant fellow using nothing but a slingshot. Well, the spindly lad with the cool footwear, that’s me that is. The Sebastien International web series is thus a timeless tale that any Friday night drunk who’s ever landed a lucky punch on a pub bouncer and got away with it can relate to.

2. To Keep Osteopaths In Business. I visited 6 cities in 12 days to make this thing happen – Sydney, Tokyo, London, Paris, New York and San Francisco. And in a generous gesture to my osteopath (who will be manipulating my buggered back and neck from now until kingdom come), I flew economy the whole way.

3. To Take On The US Navy In A Pull-Up Contest. My visit to San Francisco coincided with Fleet Week and I somehow found myself being challenged by burly US Navy recruitment officers to show my stuff on their pull up-bar. Fearing some 21st century King’s Shilling style press gang ploy, I nevertheless gave it my all. I left with burning biceps, clutching a Navy issue Frisbee. God bless America!

4. Because Capsule Hotels Rock. Great Granddaddy Eckersley Maslin used to say: “Son, you don’t get rich by blowing cash on fancy hotels”. So on the Tokyo leg of my trip, I spurned the offers of the camera crew to join them at the Intercontinental, and instead opted for the simple joys of a capsule hotel. Having been made to shower and undress in a communal changing room and stash my belongings in a public swimming pool style locker, I made my way to my capsule. I slept like a…….cigar.

5. Because I’d Never Have Got Anywhere If I’d Stayed In London. Quite literally! The one day of meetings I had in London, a Great British tube strike brought the city to a standstill. I’m convinced all London Underground staff had actually just pulled sickies and stayed home to watch the Ryder Cup. Whatever their excuse, it was bloody inconvenient.

6. It’s A Great Way To Get On Camera. No one wants to make films about people lounging about doing nothing (apart from the French, and no one watches their movies apart from other French people taking a break from lounging around doing nothing). So if you want a great film or series made about you, you’ve got to think BIG and get on and do something BIG. Please now indulge me a quick plug for the Sebastien International web series www.smallestmultinational.com/webseries/ Trust me, you’ll like it.

7. Because You Can. The simple fact is that with the right idea and the right support, any bright-eyed Herbert can take on the world (Herbert International does have a good ring to it.) Talking of support, (another shameless plug, I know, but do bear with me) I couldn’t have set up a multinational company alone, in twelve days without my sponsor SERVCORP. These guys provide serviced and virtual offices in most major cities across the globe. You can basically get an office, a receptionist, a dedicated PA and IT infrastructure at some of the most prestigious addresses in the world, for a tiny fraction of the price of actually renting an office – and without having to deal with all the hassle of finding and renting space. If you like the sound of “International” after your name or even just need a business phone number and address in your home country, you should check them out – www.servcorp.com

For more information about Sebastien International and the project head over to www.smallestmultinational.com.

January 8, 2011
7 Reasons Being Back At Work Is Great

The maverick tendencies amongst the 7 Reasons team have meant that we are returning to work two days later than the majority. Well, why not? We work weekends too. It dawned on us though that instead of being a bad thing, going back to work is actually awesome. Really, really awesome.

1. Internet. A glorious invention full of all kinds of the weird and wonderful. Mainly on YouTube. And it’s these weird and wonderful things that you just don’t have time to read, watch, play and look at during the holiday. When you are at work though, time is aplenty. And as the saying goes, ‘when at work, everyone is interested in a video of a dancing dustman’.

2. Daydreaming. When you are on holiday, you are always doing something. Even if you are doing nothing you are still doing something. As such it’s not a conducive environment in which to daydream. Work though? Well that is an entirely different situation. When you are doing nothing at work you really are doing nothing. And this is when you start drifting off. What will happen in Eastenders tonight? Could I jump from the top of that building on to the top of that one? I wonder what they are playing on Aada FM at the moment?

3. Ideas. When you are daydreaming you may invent something. Or you might realise something. Or you might decide you need to visit somewhere. Or contact someone. You never have these thoughts when you are on holiday. You never have great ideas when you are on holiday. That would be too convenient. No, you’ll only invent a squirrel powered washing machine when you are stuck at work, unable to do anything about it. Which, when you think about it, is something of a relief. Not just to the squirrel population, but also your partner who quite likes the kitchen in it’s current state.

4. Mindset. Have you noticed we are in our most optimistic and happy moods when at work? Think about it. When you are at work you spend your days looking forward to your next holiday. Yet, when you are on holiday, you spend the days dreading going back to work. Which just proves holidays are twisted individuals.

5. Pressure. Being on holiday is hard. The pressure to actually enjoy your time off is so great that many people crack and spend all their time in bed watching ITV. Deciding what to do with your day takes hours and by the time you have decided it’s too late in the day. So you agree to spend the day relaxing in bed and get up early the next day to do whatever it is you are now too late to do. But when you wake up the next day it is raining. So the whole process starts again. Compiling that report in two hours seems a doddle compared to this.

6. Exaggeration. Your holiday is always so much better when you are back at work than it was when you were actually in the middle of it. When talking to colleagues, that week in a camper-van in a lay-by outside Swansea becomes a walking holiday in the Welsh valleys. Four rainy days in Paris becomes a week in the Parisian sun sampling great wine, food and berets. Two weeks with food poisoning in Egypt becomes a life-changing trip in amongst the pyramids and the camels. Which makes you wonder why people go on holiday in the first place? You may as well stay at work and read the Thomas Cook website.

7. Guilt. If you spend your holiday watching repeats of Friends you feel terribly guilty. Do it at work though and you feel incredibly proud. That’s why work rules.

January 6, 2011
7 Reasons To Join A Cult

The story of how 7 Reasons formed is not your traditional one. We won’t go into great detail other than to say we met because we were both in a cult. But don’t worry, this cult didn’t involve righteous killing or licking frozen chickens. Anything but. This cult was a friendly one. A cult where American architects sent dragons to newsreaders and people across the land turned the ferret gold. I am sure you are now seeing the light, but if you are still slightly unsure here are seven more reasons to join that cult.

Richard Bacon Was A Cultish Leader

1. New People. A cult is different from exclusive clubs such as The Masons because it is open to all. As a result you will meet a rich and diverse group of individuals from all walks of life. Plumbers, writers, lawyers, singers, doctors, engineers, buskers, perverts. You’ll meet the lot. And because you leave all your prejudices at the door when you enter the cult, you’ll form a bond with each and everyone of them. The most hardened Tory will find joy in conversing with the most radical Socialist. Millwall supporters will appear fluffy and cute. Formerly disgraced Blue Peter presenters will be forgiven. And that sort of thing only ever happens in a cult.

2. Opportunity. Unlike your place of work, there is no hierarchy in a cult. Or, if there is, you can very easily destroy it. You can be anyone you want to be in a cult. You can be a wallflower if you wish, or you can be a leader of men. And women. No one minds. If you are the type of man who has access to both foil and a cat (Marc) you may wish to see if one will walk over the other. But what if you don’t? What if you don’t have foil? Or a cat? What if you are a person in one of those moods and fancies taking the mick out of your leader (Jon)? Well you can do that too. And whats-more, whichever route you choose, whatever you decide to do, you will be celebrated. You will be held in high esteem. You may well start a website.

3. Reward. When you have gone out of your way to entertain those amongst your cult, it is nice to be rewarded. And nothing rewards quite like a cult. Apart from the adulation and admiration from those around you, you may also receive a badge. Or a small motorbike. But it’s usually a badge. And when I say a badge, I don’t just mean a badge, well, obviously I do, because it is a badge, but it’s also more than that. It’s more than a badge. It’s what the badge stands for. It doesn’t just say, ‘Hey, I’m in a cult’, it says, ‘Hey, I’m part of a cult’. And that’s, you know, pretty damn special.

4. Help. Whether you are at school trying to write your Personal Statement or in lying in bed ill, the cult is there to help you. Admittedly, you might not get it right all the time. All your advice may just confuse the lad and mean he misses out on that place at Cambridge University, but no one can accuse you of not trying. For all your failures, you will have hundreds of successes. Like I said earlier, the cult we were in helped turn the ferret gold. But while that was great, it is more the fact that people were there to help turn the ferret gold than the actual turning. And it was the ferret himself who first shared these sentiments. He was right.

5. Meaning. It is very easy to wander along in life, working nine to five and waiting for the weekend. There is nothing wrong with that, but joining a cult will give your life purpose. It’ll mean something to you and, more importantly, you’ll mean something to the cult. It’ll give you direction and hope and love. And let’s face it, there is very little direction, hope and love out there at the moment. Your work isn’t going to give it to you, so why not give the cult a chance?

6. Outside. When you join a cult, you join in trepidation. This is only natural. A cult, after all, has a reputation for being dark and evil and thus it is perfectly understandable if you are initially nervous. No one enters thinking they may leave with a new life. But many do. Many leave with new friends. Some leave with new girlfriends or boyfriends or both. Others leave with ideas. The rest just go to sleep. No one thought this would happen when they joined. No one expected their life to change. But it can. It does. Sure, not all friendships and relationships last, that’s life, but for a moment in time they were very real. And it was the cult that gave you that happiness. Without it, it would never have happened. Obviously, some relationships do last. Like 7 Reasons. A monster that will never be slayed.

7. Death. Eventually, sometimes for reasons outside of your control, your cult will die. You will attend the funeral (or listen to it on the radio) and be filled with deep sadness. But when you come to reflect, you realise the cult hasn’t really died. You just can’t listen to it on BBC Radio 5 Live anymore. It still lives though. In your heart. And on YouTube. You still have the memories of your leader being portrayed as Hitler. You can still listen to the music of the cult’s house band and indeed of the one you may well call T He Digger. You still have the vision of chair legs being broken by that woman who stood on a plinth for a couple of weeks. You still remember that moment when you were denied from asking Chris Evans whether his gingerness had been a help or hindrance. And these thoughts will stay with you forever. No one can take them away from you. And you’ll always be thankful that you could never get to sleep before 00:30.

So, if there is one thing you should spread this Christmas season, it is the joy of the cult.

Thankyou. Jonathan Lee, in the lounge, with his badge.

December 22, 2010
7 Reasons To Embrace Christmas Traffic Jams

Strictly speaking, there is no such thing as a Christmas traffic jam, in the same way as there is no such thing as a Christmas turkey, but you know what I mean. Which is just as well, because if I had used ‘7 Reasons To Embrace The Traffic Jams You Experience While Travelling Somewhere For Christmas’ both of you may have decided not to read. I’m glad you have though, because I have importance to impart on you. If you are travelling this Christmas, this is the most helpful thing you will read this half-hour.

1. In-Laws. If you are very lucky, your in-laws, or – if you are sans wedding-ring – your partner’s family, will be normal. This is fairly uncommon however, so we shall assume that the in-laws are a weird bunch. The mother-in-law smokes a pipe and keeps singing sea shanties and the father-in-law insists on wearing novelty ties and very little else. That type of weird. The type of weird that means you want to spend as little time in their company as possible over Christmas. The type of weird that makes traffic jams seem like a little piece of heaven.*

2. Christmas Playlist. Unless you really are a Scrooge (or deaf), Christmas songs evoke the festive spirit. And no one can tell me that after listening to Wham! and Chris Rea over and over and over and over and over again you’re not going to be in the mood for mulled wine. And beer. And brandy. And anything else that might numb the pain.

3. Excuses. Despite having 364 days to buy your loved one a present, you seem to have forgotten to buy one. This means you need a damn good excuse. And to think of a damn good excuse you need time. And time comes with traffic jams. Lots of them. By the time you get to your destination, your loved one will be too tired and relieved to care about presents. Which gives you time to whip down to B&Q.

4. Traditional Games. What with the advent of Game Boys and Game Gears and PSPs, the traditional in car entertainment was shelved. Mammoth games of ‘i-Spy’ and ‘I Went On My Holidays…’ were swapped for games featuring a hedgehog called Sonic and a footballer who looked like Shrek. Christmas traffic jams are the perfect opportunity to relive those golden days. A chance to remember those simpler times. Times where the use of the brain was more important than the use of the thumbs. Admittedly, i-Spy will only last until someone has guessed BOOORRRIIINNNGGG!!! but, despite someone not quite understanding the joys of the game, it will be fun while it lasts. Honest.

5. Scenery. Ever wanted to see Slough look pretty? Get stuck there in the snow. It’s your only hope.

6. Accents. Have you ever wondered what people sound like in the area you are driving through? No, probably not. That’s because you are driving through them. But what if you are stuck in them? No, probably not. But you should. Because it will open your eyes to the world around you. And you don’t need to do it by winding down the window and freezing to death. Just tune in to the local radio station. If you are lucky they’ll be interviewing someone who thought they had grown a six-foot cucumber only to discover it was in fact a marrow. And that never happens where you live.

7. Challenge. Despite what we are encouraging here, we know no one likes sitting in a traffic jam and, given the opportunity, they will find a way of getting out of it. Which is where the road map comes in handy. I can’t think of anything more rewarding than plotting a way out of a jam and then executing it perfectly. Especially if you set yourself a time limit and pretend you are being chased by members of the KGB. Such circumstances can turn pain and despair into exhilaration and triumph. And is a case in itself for joining a jam if you see one. We’ll see you in there.

*I would just like to point out that I am very lucky. Despite their annoying habit of making me look a very average tennis player, my girlfriend’s parents are a delight.**

**No, I am not just saying this. How cynical of you.

December 20, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons For Fake Christmas Trees

It is fair to say that there wasn’t a lot of fakery about the 7 Reasons HQ up until today – except maybe the dancing girls and the tiramisu tap – but that has rather suddenly changed. Today we find the 7 Reasons sofa in a forest. A fake forest. A fake forest of Christmas trees. And it’s all the work of today’s guest-writer, Andrew Norton. He likes them. And quite reasonably too.

Fake, fake, fake fake, fake.

A common thread in many of these 7 reasons lists seems to be idleness – you should do this or that because it is easier, or quicker or less hassle and so on. In keeping with this and for the sake of avoiding having to think too hard, I will proudly use the same rhetoric here.

1. Laziness. Artificial Christmas trees genuinely are the laziest, easiest, least hassling component of the entire Christmas period bar none. Not all fake trees are this simple I grant you, but there are pop-up Christmas trees that exist that literally jump into action, pre lit and decorated. All you have to do is find enough time and energy to rise out of a chair or bed long enough to get the tree out of the box, plug it in and switch it on. 1-0.

2. Rashes. This one might not cover everybody and I accept that, but there are a lot of people allergic to pretty much everything Christmas has to offer be it nuts, fake beards or pine needles. If you are one of those people, the festive period need not be a time of rashes and annaphallactic shock. When it comes to your Christmas tree – get an artificial one. Unless you’re allergic to plastic as well, in which case you might want to think about creating your own tree out of baby wipes, pipe cleaners and moisturiser. However, chances are that a wily Santa will mistake it for a pile of junk and leave you only the dust, fluff and crumbs that gather in the folds of his enormous Christmas sack. That is not a euphemism by the way.

3. Needles. Obvious one this, but most certainly true. The biggest pain about going into a forest, removing a tree and bringing it back into the house is that it continues to behave like a tree and very much like one that is dying. It drops its needles everywhere as a result. And they are called ‘needles’ for a reason, just ask your cat once it has finished trying to dislodge one from its larynx. They get everywhere and need to constantly be hoovered up from the giant sticklebrick that they make of your carpet. Not to mention the collection you will find on the bottom of your socks – I guarantee it.

4. They’re Identical. OK, so just stop and think for a minute about what you are doing this time of year – taking a tree from outside where it belongs, cutting it down and bringing it into your house so that you can precariously balance it in an ill-fitting stand, cover it in fragile decorations and light it up to make it pretty and sparkly. While that is fun it is also pretty laborious and ridiculous. When questioned about it by aliens or foreigners, you will tell them you do it “just coz that’s what we do”. At least save yourself accusations of madness by admitting that it is crazy and get a fake tree that looks identical to a real one. You can then argue that it is a symbol of a symbol, a postmodern ornament in reference to a pre-modern tradition. Make sense? Thought not. Just get a fake tree.

5. Religion. Had you forgotten that Christmas has anything to do with Christianity? May I take this chance to remind you that the whole reason we have Christmas trees is because a few hundred years ago St. Boniface though it would be funny to go and chop down a sacred tree devoted to the Norse gods in order to disprove the Nordic faith by remaining unscathed from their deities’ wrath. He even brought it into the house and made a display out of it. Well, if you are Christian you can continue the tradition with an artificial tree just as well as a real one. If you are an atheist or agnostic you can remove yourself from the actions of St. Boniface because unlike him you bought yours from a shop that had absolutely nothing to do with Norse gods and is not imbued with any sacred life force.

6. Reusable. So Christmas is over and the stick in your living room devoid of needles looks like a shaved cat wearing bangle earrings. Are you happy now? Did you think to get one that comes in a pot and can go in your garden? No? Well, I suppose you’ll throw it away or get it chipped. Yes, it may return to the earth from whence it came and that’s great. But so will an artificial tree. Well – in that you get it down from the attic each year and then when you’re done it returns to whence it came. They just pack back up into a box and ‘hibernate’ like all the other things you forget you own up in the forgotten world of sleeping curios in the loft.

7. Choice. Trees are green and are made of wood. The end. Artificial trees are all singing, all dancing magical constructions that take anything a real tree can do and then go one further. What’s more they are the tree equivalent of John C. Reily. They, like he, can play it straight or for laughs to equal aplomb. Remember him as the doomed fisherman in a Perfect Storm? That’s an artificial tree playing the part of a traditional Nordman Fir – compelling, believable and a joy to watch. Remember John going full slapstick with Will Ferrell in Step Brothers? That’s an artificial tree giving it as a pre-lit pop-up fibre optic mutli-coloured festive grotto in a box. Beat that real tree.

December 18, 2010