Tag: seven reasons

7 Reasons That Riding A Segway Was Disappointing

On Wednesday, a group of us went to the National Railway Museum in York to take advantage of their new attraction, a Segway ride. Having spent the week eagerly anticipating this outing I was rather excited. But it turns out that riding a Segway was disappointing. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Waiting. There were four Segways, and there were more than four people in front of us. That meant that we had to wait. And while we waited, we could see Segways, but we weren’t on them. And, not only were we not on them. No one was on them. But still we had to wait. Because waiting is compulsory. And we got hungry. So we talked about food and got hungrier and hungrier and hungrier. Ideally we wanted our Segways to be made of cheese when we got to them.

2. The Course. The wait allowed us to observe the Segway course close-up and for some time. We realised that there was a slightly raised kerb in the middle of a bend; an observation that filled us with dread. Still, one of us had heard that it’s physically impossible to fall off a Segway and we were reassured by this. And also the course was surrounded by a massive inflatable barrier, so if you went off course you’d drive into something soft. And bounce off it and land on the concrete floor. And then get run over by a Segway.

3. The Outfit. Apparently jeans, a brown merino knit sweater, a grey blazer and a pink, purple, brown and white striped scarf is not the correct outfit for riding a Segway (or riding anything else when visible to people). To ride a Segway, you are required to dress as Robocop. The kit includes a black helmet and several pieces of black body armour: wrist guards, knee and shin guards, and elbow and forearm guards. All we lacked was a bullet-proof chest-guard and a flame-resistant codpiece. They, presumably, are available on request.

4. The Briefing. The briefing went on for a very long time. I have no idea what was being said, as it was a briefing. While Harry (the briefer) pointed at Segways and gesticulated wildly, I was wondering if the pope wears white underpants or whether he occasionally puts on red ones when he’s feeling frisky. Then the impossible happened: A man fell off a Segway. I realised that this was probably unrelated to my papal contemplation (unless god was smiteing inaccurately that day), but it did get my attention and made me resolve to listen. And then the briefing ended.

5. Danger. The first Segway arrived and it was time to go. It was not made of cheese. A friend prepared to mount it while his girlfriend and I watched, expectantly; hoping to see him careen crazily out of control and hurtle into an inflatable barrier or even fall off in a less spectacular manner; we didn’t mind. The important thing was that he should fall off. He didn’t. He did lurch back-and-forth alarmingly for several seconds before performing an inadvertent pirouette which got our hopes up, but then he set off quite steadily and sedately. This was very disappointing.

6. Then It Was My Turn. I stepped on to the Segway and, while everyone watched, expectantly, hoping to see me careen crazily out of control and hurtle into an inflatable barrier, I leant forward and I was away. Soon, I reached a corner and leaned back to slow down, and I slowed down. Then, I steered into the corner and the Segway went into the corner. It was undramatic. It turns out that Segways are the simplest vehicle in the world to operate. I seemed to have the slowest one ever made because, despite going quickly through the corners, I was slower on the straight than everyone else. I was even lapped twice by a small boy, who seemed to revel in whooshing past me as close as he could. It was slower than running or cycling and not much more fun. And I could have wiped the floor with the small boy at running or cycling. And I could beat him at Trivial Pursuit. And arm-wrestling.

7. The Video. Later, after the event was over, we settled down to watch the video, which was filmed by my non-Segway-riding wife using my phone. I had pressed record and handed the phone to her the correct way up before wandering off to don my Robocop costume. Within thirty seconds she was filming in portrait, rather than landscape and the phone was upside-down. She doesn’t seem to have wondered why the part of the phone facing her bore the word “ǝƃuɐɹo” at all. Fortunately I noticed this and, the highlight of the video is a tall upside-down man with a gaudy scarf and partial body armour explaining the finer points of holding a phone the right way up. The rest of the video consists of two minutes of footage of slow moving Segways, nine minutes of slow moving Segways obscured by the inflatable barrier she decided to go and stand behind, one and a half minutes of giant index finger and forty-five seconds of gazing longingly at an ice cream van (which is the second best bit). Overall, a disappointment.

October 29, 2010
7 Reasons We Should Trick Or Treat Ourselves Out Of The Deficit

At 7 Reasons (.org) we’re humourists, writers, film-makers and…well…those things. Occasionally though – very occasionally – we branch out. And today is one of those days. Because we’ve just had a really good idea. A brilliant idea, in fact. Britain can drag itself out of the current recession by trick-or-treating. Yes, that’s right. we really did just say “Britain can drag itself out of the current recession by trick-or-treating”. And it will work. Here are seven reasons why:

1. History. In Victorian Britain, you could barely move for ragamuffins up chimneys and urchins being put to work in blacking factories. Not to mention girls in t’mill or plying their trade as occasional flower-vendors. And Britain was the most prosperous, powerful and advanced society of the age; all built on the ruthless exploitation of children. Trick-or-treating our way out of the deficit is essentially a more modern and palatable version of the Victorian model. History commands us to do it.

2. Big Society. Love them or hate them, the Tory flagship policy is something called the ‘Big Society’. The premiss, if we understand it correctly, is that it empowers local people. Demanding treats from old ladies is also pretty empowering. Some people, especially those with chainsaws, are really good at getting big treats. Logic dictates therefore, that trick-or-treating is right up Big Society’s street. Which is convenient as this is where we should all be going on Sunday night. With or without tree surgeon utensils.

3. Balance of Payments. Americans are the greatest per capita consumers of confectionery in the world*. Having trick-or-treated vast quantities of sweets from our neighbours, we can export them to America. Not only will this be a healthy profit for Britain, it will also be a healthy profit for America; the nation that owns most British sweet manufacturers. This perpetual transatlantic sweet transaction will enrich both nations to the point where they will be able to rid themselves of their burdensome debts and counter the economic threat of emerging nations such as China and India.**

4. Incentive. Trick-or-treating happens once a year. Assuming you are doing it properly that is. If we fail to eradicate the deficit this year, we will have to live through a year of cuts until October 30th 2011 when we’ll get another go. Paper cuts, however necessary, are bad. Bread knife cuts, however necessary, are even worse. Bowl cuts, however necessary, are worse still. And they are nothing compared to the cuts, however necessary, that the coalition have just announced. So if you don’t want to get cut, get out there and get some money. Or some Dairy Milks.

5. Pumpkins. Most people who knock on doors and ask for a donation carry charity boxes. The volume of these is seldom satisfactory and rarely saves so much as a tin of tuna let alone a Whale. A pumpkin however can be very satisfactory in size. So, once you’ve hollowed out your pumpkin – but before you’ve made eyes and stuck a candle inside – whip up and down the street a few times. Actually, make it once. People might get annoyed/poor if you get repetitive. Oh, and once you’ve finished with your pumpkin, sell it. Ideally to Americans. They wear them on their heads.

6. George Osborne. Only time will tell, but given the current economic climate it is likely that Osborne will go down in history as either a genius or a buffoon. It’s fair to say, that at the time of writing, many people think he is a buffoon and they’d like to give him a slap on the chops. To others though, he is seen as a strongly-willed man making tough decisions when they are required. These people want to shake his hand. Sadly, George doesn’t have enough hands or chops to go around. Which is where this genius 7 Reasons idea comes in: Many people like dressing up and wearing masks when they set about trick or treating. This year all trick-or-treaters should wear a George Osborne mask. This way, for one night only, people all over the land get the chance to slap or shake the Chancellor.

7. They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? In the Great Depression (the last time things were this bad) people kept themselves entertained by participating in many dubious activities and entertainments: Dance marathons, jigsaw puzzles, penny-a-card bingo, pointing at aeroplanes and beating hoops with sticks were all popular leisure activities during the 1930s. By using these soporifically tedious activities to distract themselves from the straitened economic circumstances and widespread hardship, people were able to gaily throw their woes aside and the national mood – in contrast to the economy – was one of buoyancy. In 2010, we can learn from the past. By participating in something as brain-achingly tedious as walking up and down the street in the cold and meeting the neighbours – or ceaselessly answering the front door and meeting the neighbours – we will improve national morale and, with a new, breezy confidence to fortify it, the nation will boldly march its way clear of the deficit. And all because of trick-or-treat.***

*We assume, based on having seen them.

**This should work. We have no idea why “professional” economists didn’t think of this sooner.

***The 7 Reasons team can be hired for the writing of manifestos and speeches and are willing to discuss the exchange of principles for money. Or tea. Or tiramisu.

October 28, 2010
7 Reasons That The Correct Font is Important

Fonts: Sometimes we don’t pay enough attention to them, but choosing the correct one is vital for your project; be it a full blown advertising campaign, a sign for your office, a Christmas card or a publicity photo. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Playfulness. Kristen is a lovely, whimsical, childlike font which, when used correctly, imbues the work with a sense of playfulness and naivety. When used incorrectly however, it is not as effective:

The message Drive to the East was intended as a call to invasion and conquest. This poster may still encourage people to drive East, but now they’ll be doing it in Smart cars whilst drinking Innocent smoothies and listening to Death Cab For Cutie. The Kristen font is too jaunty for Hitler.

2. Menace. Similarly, Fraktur is a font associated with much Nazi propaganda and many of their legal notices. When used in this context however, it rather blurs the message:

Even the sad face can’t rescue this one. The font exudes menace and it makes it appear more of a threat than an appeal: That if you don’t give them money, ranks of jack-booted stormtroopers will goose-step on poor Flopsy. :’-( Still quite an effective message though.

3. Cool. Some fonts – Sidewalk in this instance – are rather cool and edgy and, when used sparingly, can really make an impact.

When making a sign for the office kitchen though, they tend to work less well. The thoughts of the users of the office kitchen will probably range from, “What in god’s name is that abomination on the wall?!” to, “Wow! Emma’s like the coolest person ever to have put up a sniffy notice about washing teacups. Ever.”

4. Minimalism. The moon: A cold, empty, stark place which requires an appropriately minimal font and, when putting together an article on whether man will return to the moon, it’s important to use one. And not this:

French Script really isn’t doing this picture any favours. It’s over-elaborate, cluttered, and just not spacey enough. And it’s French. They’ve never been to the moon. They rarely go as far as Sussex.

5. Seasonality. Christmas: Evocative of roaring fires, presents, carol singing, peace, goodwill and happy families spending quality time together at home.

But when your Christmas card features the Digital Readout Thick Upright font, you introduce the spectre of The Terminator into the traditional family Christmas, and that doesn’t seem like it will go well. Even if he does bring presents from the future.

6. Clarity. Clean crisp fonts such as Gill Sans exude class. With a plain, unfussy font your carefully chosen words are showcased to their best advantage. The BBC use Gill Sans, and the famous Volkswagen Lemon advert used a similar font. Sometimes though, it’s not a good idea to go minimal:

Because the reader’s attention is drawn to every error and mad utterance in your crazed internet rant. And yes, I did cut and paste this from a comment on one of our posts. Answers on a postcard?

7. Gasp! There’s a lot of snobbery around the use of MS Comic Sans. And many perfectly reasonable people say that it should never, ever be used; there are websites and Facebook groups that campaign against it. But they’re wrong. Because I’ve found a use for it:

You can use it to take perfectly good, artfully shot publicity photos, and make them funnier. I’m so happy with this one that I’m not even going to charge for it. Finally, a use for Comic Sans.

October 26, 2010
7 Reasons That Sorry Isn’t The Hardest Word

Sorry is the hardest word*, we are led to believe. But it isn’t. It’s amongst the easiest. Here are seven reasons why.

1. It’s Short. There are far longer and more difficult words in the English language: triskaidekaphobia, for example, or antidisestablishmentarianism. They’re much trickier: Try using them at a bar and you’ll inevitably trip over your tongue and come across as a slurring dunderhead, even if you’re not.

2. It’s Not Laden With Terror. Sorry; a hard word? Try saying Coulrophobia. It’s not only longer, with more syllables, but it evokes both clowns and fear. Clowns! Fear! Yeah, that’s a harder word. Say “Coulrophobia“ without stuttering. Or shuddering. Or checking over your shoulder. Have a quick check now, you’ll feel better.

3. It’s Ubiquitous. Politicians of all parties, and husbands who’ve got carried away at parties (if you will hold a party in a house next to a golf course, you’re asking for trouble) have spent many years proving that sorry is bloody easy to say. It’s a lot easier to get the apology in early rather than spend years in the political wilderness, or doghouse (or actual wilderness if you’re married in Montana). I’m tempted to say that nothing is easier to say than sorry. But that’s not true. Sorry is easier to say than nothing. It doesn’t have the tricky th sound in the middle and ends in a vowel.

4. Allusion. You don’t even need to say “sorry” to say sorry; you can just hand over chocolates or flowers. Which means that anyone with access to the local confectioner or graveyard can say sorry without saying anything at all. Couldn’t be easier.

5. Comparison. Press, solid, rock, hulk, force, Chuck, iron, bang, kill, Norris, clap, strike, pound, All harder words than sorry. Every last one of them. As is hard.

6. Fired. I’ve had to tell people that I’ve fired over the years many things. And trust me, sorry was almost always the easiest part of the statement. Easier than incompetent, feckless, unreliable, dishonest, tardy, lazy and unstable (which is not a crap version of the seven dwarves, by the way). “I’m sorry, we’re going to have to let you go. It’s not that we have a problem with you personally, or the standard of your work, it’s more the thousands of pounds that you’ve embezzled from the company during your time here. Sorry.”

7. Nationality. Because I’m an Englishman and, to me, sorry is the default word. It just pops-out whenever anything unexpected happens. Someone bumps into me: “Sorry”. Someone tries to put their letter through my hand while I’m using a post-box: “Sorry”. Someone drives their 4×4 at me on the pavement because the road isn’t wide enough: “Sorry (though it is sarcastic in this case)”. Sorry is the easiest word. It’s just there. Saying itself, even when you don’t want it to.

*There is an Elton John and Bernie Taupin song entitled Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word. This is coincidental. It is not Elton John week at 7 Reasons(.org). Nor is it Bernie Taupin week. Sorry about that.

October 22, 2010
7 Reasons That This Picture Is Amazing

A friend of mine sent me this picture. And it’s amazing. Here are seven reasons why.

1. It’s Cute. Just look at the sweet little pig feeding between the bigger pigs. Look how sweet and little and cute he is. Awwww. What a lovely, heart-warming, rustic scene.

2. It’s Compelling. The cute pig picture was on my monitor when my wife was walking past the room and, having glimpsed it, she was beside me within a nanosecond, looking rather flustered and seemingly unable to take her eyes off it. “Isn’t the little piggy cute?” I enquired. “Errr…er…yes”, she replied, before wandering off, looking back at it over her shoulder a couple of times as she left the room.

3. It’s Unexpected. The friend that sent me the picture of the cute pig did so in an email entitled Not What You Think. And he was right. Because usually when I get an email from him it contains some sort of smut or a horrific example of Darwinism. The last thing I expected was a nice animal picture. It seems that seeing the cute pig has brought out my friend’s better side.

4. It Brings Out Deep-Rooted Primitive Beliefs. Using my phone I showed another friend the picture of the cute piggy while we were in a bar and his reaction was extraordinary. After a couple of seconds looking at the picture, he grabbed my phone and tried to hide it under the table. I can only imagine he thought that by looking at the picture we were stealing the pig’s soul, but I never got the chance to ask because…

5. It’s Awesome. So awesome that the sight of it caused a woman seated a couple of tables behind us to gasp audibly and point, slack-jawed in our direction. This was unnerving and we left quite soon after. But not before I observed that…

6. It’s Inspirational. Because the gasping woman was obviously very taken with the cute piggy; I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but when her friend came back from the toilet she seemed very excited and spent several minutes telling her about the picture in a breathless and animated manner. She pointed many more times, and touched her ruddy cheeks a lot. The cuteness of the piggy seemed to have affected her greatly. Hormones, I expect.

7. It’s Baffling. Because I like the cute pig; I like the little fella a lot, don’t get me wrong. But other people seem extraordinarily taken with him, and there are other, cuter animal pictures out there that don’t provoke such a reaction. This one, for example:

Awww. Much cuter.

October 20, 2010
7 Reasons Sir Elton Might Like To Take A Look At His Own Songs

Hello, I’m back. I guess, in the grand scheme of things, that is not enough to make your Tuesday. As a result I shall also furnish your day with a 7 Reasons post. You may have heard that Sir Elton John has been having a pop at the songwriters of today. According to the BBC, he thinks they’re awful. ‘Fair enough’, I thought, ‘but let’s just have a listen to some of Elton’s stuff to find out how much better he was’. The results are staggering. Here are 7 Reasons Elton should probably listen to his Greatest Hits again.*

1. Song – Your Song. Lyric – “I don’t have much money but boy if I did, I’d buy a big house where we both could live.” It’s hardly the stuff of Chaucer, Hardy or Dickens is it?

2. Song – Crocodile Rock. Lyric – “But the biggest kick I ever got, was doing a thing called the Crocodile Rock, while the other kids were rocking round the clock, we were hopping and bopping to the Crocodile Rock.” I know this song is self-referential, but even so, it’s still a load of nonsense. I wouldn’t have thought the hallmark of a great songwriter was to make up some stupid dance name. I suspect Elton would laugh in Marc’s face if Mr Fearns approached him with the 7 Reasons Shuffle. Especially if he was wearing my mask.

3. Song – Daniel. Lyric – “Daniel is traveling tonight on a plane, I can see the red tail lights heading for Spain.” How convenient Daniel was going to Spain. Mind you, I suppose if he had been going to Derry he could have caught the ferry. Just a shame they don’t do a tram to Iran really.

4. Song – Saturday Night’s Alright For Fighting. Lyric – “It’s getting late have you seen my mates, Ma tell me when the boys get here, it’s seven o’clock and I want to rock, want to get a belly full of beer.” Hardly the sort of message one wants to be sending out. Elton John and Grand Theft Auto have a lot to answer for.

5. Song – Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On Me. Lyric – All of them. This song is a cliche. From start to finish. In that respect, the songwriting is awful. It also doesn’t address the solution to the sun going down, which, in most parts of the world, is to switch on the light. Or light a candle. Actually, I’m glad Elton never lit a candle, he’d have probably written a song about it.

6. Song – Honky Cat. Lyric – “When I look back, boy I must have been green, bopping in the country, fishing in a stream.” I’m not a cynic, but I find it very hard to believe that anyone who is green and bops in the country also goes down to fish in the stream. I think it has more to do with the fact that it rhymes. Personally, for all the sense this song makes, I would have preferred it to have been, ‘When I look back, yowzer I must have been blond, chugging in the hamlet, pissing in a pond’. But I guess the tempo is not quite the same with that is it?

7. Song – Rocket Man. Lyric – “Mars ain’t the kind of place to raise your kids.” No, neither is Preston. Talk about stating the bloody obvious. And whose idea was it to write a song about a fictional astronaut going on a fictional journey to Mars anyway?

*Edit: In response to all of you who told me Bernie Taupin wrote the lyrics and not Elton, yes, I do know this. Elton still saw the lyrics fit enough to sing though. As a result, this post passes muster.

October 19, 2010
7 Reasons That a Cricket Bat is Preferable to a Baseball bat

Hmm. What’s the best bat to keep around the house, you’re probably wondering. Well, I have both, and it’s definitely the cricket bat. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Perception. When you stroll down your nice, quiet unremarkable street with a cricket bat tucked under your arm, you fit in. To passers-by and onlookers you are that nice chap (or chapess) from number 29 on his way to participate in a genteel and respectable game which involves a break for tea, and a lunch which perhaps involves a home-made cake or two on a picturesque village green somewhere.

2. Perception. When you stroll down your nice, quiet unremarkable street twirling a baseball bat you do not fit in. In fact, you are a harbinger of evil, bristling with menace and exuding undiluted violence. Suddenly, in a scene reminiscent of a cheap western, everything will become silent. Young women shield young children behind their voluminous skirts; old women scuttle away in terror; middle-aged women…er…er…(I’ve never even seen a middle-aged women in a cheap western, why is that?); men (of all ages) suddenly become incapable of eye contact, because there’s a madman with a baseball bat on the rampage. Never mind that in your other hand you’re carrying a mitt and a baseball because the people have seen the bat and the panic-stricken-nitwits have been rendered incapable of rational thought. They will blindly assume that you’re off to break someone’s kneecaps or smash a car’s door-mirrors. And that won’t help you get an invite to your next-door neighbour’s birthday party. It may, however, stop trick-or-treaters visiting.*

3. Certainty. Cricket bats, like some of the more successful and big-headed practitioners of the game itself, are doughty, resolute and they stay where you left them. If you put a baseball bat on the dining-room floor, however, it does not. The baseball bat is an inherently flighty creature and, like a hollow-headed flibbertigibbet, it will just disappear from where you left it, merrily rolling away without a care in the world. Eventually, of course, it will turn up, usually while you’re stumbling around in the dark or when your wife is entering the room carrying a glass of orange juice, a plate containing two cheese and real-ale-pickle sandwiches and an apple. Or something.

4. Arms-length. Ever had to pick something up that you really didn’t want to pick up? Something that you wanted to keep at further-than-arms-length? Something with many legs, perhaps, or with steam emanating from it. A cricket bat is ideal for such an eventuality owing to its flat blade. A baseball bat is not. In fact, there’s no way that you’ll be able to carry your friend’s pet “hamster” that you’re looking after or that god-awful smelling bowl of onion soup on a baseball bat.

5. Flour. I have never returned home to find my cricket bat covered in flour. I have, however, returned home to discover my baseball bat covered in flour on several occasions. And, as I’ve tucked into the pie that my wife has prepared for me, I’ve often thought, funny that. I didn’t leave it anywhere near the flour cupboard.**

6. Air-guitar. Try miming along to the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion or Led Zeppelin using a baseball bat and you’ll look like a pillock. Do it using a cricket bat and you’ll look like an eminently sensible and respectable chap (or chapess), suitable for a post in the foreign office, perhaps, or as a school governor. No matter how bad the music or the miming, if you use a cricket bat you’ll always maintain a thin veneer of respectability. Until you fall off the table.

7. Visitors. When you entertain foreign guests from non-cricketing nations in your house, a baseball bat is just a bat for baseball. A cricket bat, however, is a strange thing of wonder which they will enquire about. And fairly soon you’ll find yourself explaining – at length – to your blankly-incomprehending friends the finer points of the game of cricket. And they’ll love you for that. Really. And, after several hours talking about cricket, you may even find that they close their eyes in concentration as you explain the finer points of leg-spin.

*Topical top tip.

**The flour cupboard is not exclusively for flour. It contains other things such as; homemade blackberry vodka, homemade limoncello, half a packet of raisins, three packets of linguine, a jar of treacle that may or may not pre-date the Crimean war and a sake jug.

October 18, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: How You Found Us: Part 2

Hello! It’s Sunday again and here’s part two in an occasional series that takes you behind the scenes of 7 Reasons. How You Found Us gives you, the reader, a glimpse into something usually only seen by us, the people who know the password, into the ways that this website has been discovered. This time, we’ve split them into categories. Seven categories (it felt weird experimenting with the number ten last week). Enjoy. And try not to have nightmares.

1. Phrases you used to find us that we found flattering:

funny website

VIRILE MEN

good humour

Epic Moustache

I lust you

Extra large penis

lotharios

2. Phrases you used to find us that we found less flattering:

scary man

FAIL

I dont care

funny faced people

KNOB END

you dirty mind

the scariest mask in the world

3. Phrases you used to find us that we’re sorry we couldn’t help with:

cooking frozen sausages

What time is Blue Peter on

where do women urinate from?

what to do with lemons

who is the most beautiful naked woman in the world?

are oranges gay?

how to wear socks

4. Phrases you used to find us that we don’t know anything about and nor do we want to:

horse sex tube

The Pope naked

PIRAHNA PORN

Margaret Thatcher mask

sex with house

Naked Pocahontas

pictures of socks

5. Phrases you used to find us that are just plain wrong:

Sarah Jessica Parker looks like a foot

reasons for Piers Morgan

the queen paints front door

The Daily Mail

6. Phrases you used to find us that there is no earthly explanation for and that we can’t help with:

pin the sperm on the egg

naked hunting

syphilis fruit

dead squirrels

mermaid found in Haiti

7. Phrases you used to find us that there is no earthly explanation for but that we were able to help with:

the network is down (easy one, our website is hosted by Fasthosts)

Ryan Giggs hiding cupboard (we don’t know why a friend of ours googled this but we do know who she is so we made her one).

7 Reasons will return tomorrow. With reasons and stuff.

October 17, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons to Love Peppa Pig

It’s Saturday once more, and the 7 Reasons team are taking a day off to indulge their respective hobbies of eating tiramisu and…er…not eating tiramisu. Fear not though, for we leave you in capable hands. Strapping himself back into the 7 Reasons sofa, taking a firm grasp of the joystick and doing things that we don’t understand with flaps and ailerons is Richard O’Hagan: By day a mild-mannered lawyer, and by night a fearless writer, warrior, superhero and defender of owls (possibly). Here’s Richard.

I know what you are thinking – why is a grown man extolling the virtues of a TV show for the under-fives? Well, first of all, there’s the fact that it is one of the few kids shows that can be on in the background without raising my blood pressure to boiling point, just by being a steaming pile of old twaddle, such as In The Night Garden. Nor is it a complete rip-off of a fifty year old idea, like Chuggington. In fact, you can watch it as an adult and be far more entertained than you can watching any soap opera. There are many reasons for this, but here are just seven of them:

1. The Car Is Magic. Even better, the car is magic and no-one seems to realise it. Whichever way it is parked, the car is always facing the right way when it is next needed. And the steering wheel changes side according to which way the car is going. It is as if it has ESP. In fact, lots of things in this town have ESP. In another episode there is a campervan with an ESP satnav – you just tell it where you want to go and it takes you there. Adding ESP satnav to the magic car is the only thing that could improve it. It would also reduce the number of times that Daddy Pig gets lost.

2. Daddy Pig. Daddy Pig is some kind of idiot savant. He is guaranteed to be 100% wrong about everything. If you ever wanted to win the Lottery, just ask him to pick 42 numbers and you can guarantee that the winning seven will be the ones he didn’t choose. Similarly, if he claims to be an expert at anything, he won’t be. Curiously, he never claims to be an expert at civil engineering, which is his job – although on reflection this is probably a good thing.

3. Incest. How many other children’s shows deal with this? Yet where Peppa lives, there is only one of each species of animal. Either there is a huge amount of inbreeding or a lot of cross species experimentation (which would at least explain why the elephants are the same size as the cats). The only exception to this rule would seem to be Peppa and her brother George, who have cousins – which leads me to suspect that, despite the accents, the series may be set in Kentucky.

4. Madame Gazelle. Mme Gazelle is possibly the scariest children’s character ever. She is clearly some kind of witch, at the very least. She has taught everyone in the town, even the adults, without aging at all. She can play guitar equally well both right and left handed. She speaks with a Franco-Germanic accent and is, frankly, terrifying. I suspect she has a house with a very large and well-developed cellar.

5. Miss Rabbit. They say that men cannot multitask, but compared to Miss Rabbit no-one can. She sells ice cream, she runs the fire station, she mans the checkout at the supermarket and is in charge of the recycling depot. And that was just on Monday.

6. George Hates Peppa. Despite the facade of a very happy family unit, George actually hates his big sister. Every time he fantasises about something, it involves Peppa being eaten by a dinosaur. Frankly, after your three year old has watched every episode a hundred times, you will be having the same sort of thoughts

7. Serving Suggestion. And, at the end of the day, how many children’s characters tell you how to cook them?

The people behind Peppa Pig went on to make ‘Ben and Holly’s Little Kingdom’, which is rubbish for at least another seven reasons.

October 16, 2010
7 Reasons That Carrier Bags are Baffling

The carrier bag might seem like a rudimentary bit of kit. Basic, functional, easy to understand. But it isn’t. Carrier bags are, in fact, among the most baffling things known to humankind. And by humankind, I mean me. Here are seven reasons why:

1. Because I Have Hands. People in shops are endlessly, needlessly trying to force carrier bags on me. But I don’t want one most of the time. Often, I’m just buying one or two items. And I don’t need a carrier bag in that circumstance. How many hands does it take to carry a single item? One. How many hands does it take to carry a bag containing a single item? One. So I don’t need a bloody bag, do I? It’s not difficult. And I already have a bag; it’s that thing I’m wearing over my shoulder that looks like a bag. But despite having both hands and bags, I am continually pestered to take the things. And I don’t know why.

2. Because They’re Everywhere. I always try not to take carrier bags, but despite this, my kitchen is full of the things. And every time I go in there, there are more of them. I don’t know how – or when – the rise of the bags began, but they are inexorably usurping our cooking space. We started off, like everyone does, with a bag of bags, and now we have at least a bag of bag of bag of bag of bags. Well, more than one, actually.

3. Because I Don’t Know What To Do With The Things. You might think this is the point where I’m going to make a few humorous and bizarre speculations on what one might do with a glut of carrier bags, but no, I’m not going to do that. This is because I’m totally bewildered and overwhelmed by my surfeit of them. I have no more idea of what to do with all the bags in the kitchen than I would have of what to do with a large, glittery, singing horse called Jemima in my dining room. Less, in fact. Or fewer?

4. Because Of Chavs. It seems that the only people that have any idea of what to do with used carrier bags are chavs. They put them over the seats of their rusty mountain bikes and tie them down to the seat-post. All of them do this. But I have no idea why. It’s not to keep their bottoms dry because they never remove the bag; even after rain. It’s a further level of bafflement.

5. Because They’re Not In The Same Condition I Left Them In. Occasionally, a rare and wondrous event occurs: I realise that I’m going to have to carry some presents to a friend’s house, or I’m going for a walk in the countryside and there might be blackberries to pick, and I find that I will actually need a carrier bag. And then I excitedly perform a brief, joyous dance – a bit like a jig – while singing repeatedly “I’m going to get rid of a bag, I’m going to get rid of a bag…” to the tune of A Life on the Ocean Wave. But when I come to use them, I discover that at least 50% of the bags are torn. But they weren’t torn when I put them into the bag of bag of bag of bag of bag of bags. So what the hell has happened to them in the meantime? Do they fight?

6. Because People Lie About Them. It’s not just that they’re all over my kitchen, mocking and taunting me, and confounding my every attempt to get rid of them that I find them baffling. It’s that people actively lie to us about the things. Don’t use carrier bags, environmentalists tell us; it’s wasteful; a lot of resources are used up in their manufacture; they don’t grow on trees. But this just isn’t true. Carrier bags do grow on trees. I’ve seen them. Just go outside and look at any urban tree and you’ll see the carrier bags growing on it. And we’re obviously using far fewer carrier bags than the trees are producing, because we’re not harvesting them with any regularity. That’s why there’s still a Woolworths bag growing in a tree near my house. Even though they went bust bloody ages ago.

7. Because Of The Holes. We all know why there’s a hole at the top of the bag. It’s to punish people that are stupid enough to try to put baguettes into them. But no one knows why there are holes at the bottom. Are they drainage holes? Is it a government conspiracy to prevent us from moving water about easily? Is it to prevent suffocation of animals, small children and Members of Parliament? Is it to stop me from inflating the things and then bursting them (with hilarious consequences)? Is it just to confuse us? Well, if it is, it’s working.

October 12, 2010