Tag: seven reasons

7 Reasons That Google Shouldn’t Have Revived Pacman

Last week, to celebrate the 30^th anniversary of PacMan, Google put a version of the game on their main page. The game proved so popular that they’ve now made it permanently available. Here are 7 reasons that they shouldn’t have.

1. Age. Pacman is slow, old looking and not as much fun as it once was: This is typical of everything and everyone over thirty. Why not encourage contemporary game developers by putting a new game there?

2. 1980. By reviving Pacman, Google is taking us back to 1980. But there are far better years that Google could celebrate. Why look back to a year that gave us the Olympic boycott, the election of Robert Mugabe, the death of John Bonham and the interminable and tedious saga of who shot JR Ewing? Why not commemorate 2009? Computer games were better; clothes were better; hair was better; England won The Ashes. It’s a much better year.

3. Prominence. Why not use the widely viewed search engine to promote something good? Instead of putting Pacman there, why not celebrate the 65^th anniversary of the end of WWII with an appeal for world peace or commemorate 1986 with an appeal for the Duchess of York to shut up and go away? Who wouldn’t prefer that?

4. Time. According to people that could be bothered to work it out, 4.82 million (Pac)man-hours (sorry, I couldn’t help myself) were spent playing Pacman last Friday. That can’t all have been me, there must have been several other people playing it too. Perhaps you’re one of them. That’s a lot of time spent playing something so obsolete.

5. Ubiquity. Once you’ve been playing Pacman for nine hours or so, your mind begins to unravel a bit and you start to see him all over the place. I’ve produced a pie chart to illustrate this phenomena. Seriously, he’s everywhere.

6. Music. Michael Winner dressed in a purple shell-suit scraping his fingernails down Simon Cowell’s blackboard would be less irritating than the relentlessly jaunty music from Pacman. That it has been seldom heard in the last few years should be a cause for general rejoicing. Offices can already be hellish enough places to work; imagine being able to hear someone at the next desk playing Pacman. Actually, try not to imagine it. Take deep breaths and think cleansing thoughts. Close your eyes and say “Ommmm”.

7. Rubbish. The single worst thing about the revival of Pacman is that I’m bloody rubbish at it. Useless. Cataclysmically useless. Useless to an extent that in years to come, my name will probably be used to redefine humanity’s very concept of uselessness. Nothing in my childhood prepared me for being chased by monsters – not even all of the Scooby Doo viewing – I was too busy playing Space Inavders. Now that’s a real game.

May 27, 2010
7 Reasons U2 Have No Excuse Not To Perform At Glastonbury

So, yesterday, U2 had to pull out of their scheduled headline appearance at this year’s Glastonbury because Bono needs to rest his back. As excuses go, that’s up there with, ‘My imaginary dog ate my homework’. And this is why.

1. Posture. Now, I know ‘rockstars’ like to own the stage. Nothing gets them more erect than running across the stage and whipping the crowd into a frenzy. Given that Bono is a prick most of the time, it will come as no surprise that I believe he falls into this category. But, do you know what? There is no rule that says you have to ponce around the stage. You are allowed to sit down. Or even lie down on stage. So why couldn’t Bono have done this?

2. Location. The Edge and the other two – who don’t actually have names – could easily be on the stage at Glastonbury with a video link to Bono sitting at home, in front of his webcam. He can afford one.

3. Orifices. The last time I checked, Bono didn’t sing out of his back. He talks out of something close to it, but singing out of his back? No. He uses what most of us use. His mouth. Saying he can’t sing at Glastonbury is a bit like me saying I can’t bend down because I have a cold-sore on the side of my mouth.

4. Miming. Bono doesn’t actually have to sing. People will understand. He could just stand there and open his mouth while U2’s roadie presses play on the tape recorder round the back.

5. Geoffrey Knight. I wouldn’t blame you if you have never heard of Geoffrey. Up until ten seconds ago neither had I. But he is arguably the world’s greatest Bono impersonator. Don’t take it from me, visit his website. Now, I know a thing or two about impersonation* and, the truth is, a lot of people – mainly those who don’t bother to read – will believe just about anything. So all Bono had to do was get Michael Eavis to write somewhere on the Glastonbury website that Geoffrey would be appearing instead of him. Simple.

6. Holograms. Yes, so supposing Geoffrey isn’t available – maybe he is out impersonating Bob Geldof – well then it’s time for the lights and projection systems and all that jazz to take over. With all the strobing and flashing lights that happen on these stages, no one is really going to notice if Bono is actually being played by a hologram. And let’s be honest, after all the alcohol that has been consumed by the crowd, the whole thing is just a blur anyway.

7. My Mum & Everyone Else. My mum has a bad back, but she’s the kind of woman who wouldn’t let you know it. Not once has she phoned up the owner of Tesco to cancel her appearance in the aisles later that day. Instead, she gets in the car, does the shopping and then carries everything into the house. Sometimes I think it’s quite harsh not to open the front door for her. And then, like I say, there is everyone else. Everyday, all over the world, people are injuring their backs. Do they cancel their appearance at Glastonbury because of it? No, they do not. Bono, you are pathetic.

*It’s really quite an art.

May 26, 2010
7 Reasons These Phrases Just Don’t Make Sense

1. Get On Like A House On Fire. So this means you supposedly get on really well with someone. Marc and I, for example, get on like a house on fire. Unfortunately, if a house is on fire, it is going to burn to the ground. Soon there will be no house. There will be ashes. It will be the end. So really, if people get on like a house on fire, it actually means the relationship won’t last. So like I say, Marc and I get on like a house on fire.

2. Keep Your Eyes Peeled. Eyes are not like onions. Or carrots. Or potatoes. In fact they are not like any food substance. Unless we are talking sheep’s eyes. But we are not. We are talking about human eyes. And how silly it is to tell someone to keep an eye out for something by encouraging them to get the peeler out of the drawer.

3. Bringing Home The Bacon. This is fine if you’re a butcher, but if you are a banker or a fireman or a solicitor or a professional ferret tickler, you don’t want to have to keep bringing bacon home every night. Particularly as the ferret will probably eat it. ‘Bringing Home The Money’ makes far more sense. Especially if you’ve just robbed Barclays.

4. Drink Like A Fish. Obviously we all know that this means to drink a lot. The correct phrase, however, should be ‘Drink Like A Saltwater Fish’. Freshwater fish, unlike their saltwater friends, do not drink water. They absorb it. Why does this matter? Well if you know that someone who drinks like a saltwater fish is coming round to the party, you can give them a glass of fizz. If, on the other hand, you know they drink like a freshwater fish, well you can run them a bath.

5. Saved By The Bell. No one, in the history of the world, has ever been saved by a bell. A bell is an inanimate object and thus not able to save people. If, for example, you were shot at but the bullet ricocheted off a bell, well you wouldn’t have been saved by the bell you would have been saved by your wise positioning. Or the sniper’s inaccuracy.

6. What A Load Of Codswallop. We use this to describe our 7 Reasons posts quite a lot. It means, ‘what a load of nonsense’ of course. But it shouldn’t. By my calculations it should mean, ‘what a load of fishes punch’ or ‘what a load of fishes whack’. Since when did ‘fishes whack’ mean ‘nonsense’?

7. It’s Cold Enough To Freeze The Balls Off A Brass Monkey. No it’s not. It’s never cold enough to do that. It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a 7 Reasons co-founder, maybe. But not off a brass monkey. And while we are on the subject, has anyone ever seen a brass monkey with balls? Or is that the point? Have they all been frozen off? Okay, you’ll have to disregard this reason. It actually makes perfect sense.

May 25, 2010
7 Reasons Not to Write in the Park

Last week, I wrote a piece entitled 7 Reasons To Write In The Park. I did this because it was a nice day and I thought it would be a good idea to combine a visit to my local park with writing, Having come up with the title for the piece before I set off, I felt duty-bound to complete it, even though my experience showed me that the park isn’t the ideal place to write at all. This is why.

Picture by www.webbaviation.co.uk

1. Sunshine. It was sunny in the park. I discovered that sunlight is incompatible with writing as I couldn’t see what was on the screen of my laptop. I’m not the most accurate of typists and being able to see what I’m keying in is vital to me. After I’d finished writing, I returned home to find that I’d written this:

I had to spend hours rewriting it from memory. Indoors.

2. The Descent Of Man. There’s an ice cream vendor at my local park so I bought an ice cream which, as it was a hot sunny day, melted and made both of my hands very sticky. I needed to type but I didn’t have a tissue or a wet wipe with me; because I’m not very organised and also because I’m not a woman (I don’t even own a dress). I ended up having to clean my hands by dragging them around on the grass. And so it was that I, a modern man, was reduced to savagery by something as simple as a defrosting confection. Pathetic.

3. Women. There were scantily clad women sunbathing in the park; some of them were reading too. This is a distraction I never encounter when writing at home and I got quite hot under the collar (an idiomatic one, I’m not a dog). As I sat there trying to write, I found myself thinking about how attractive women with books are. For reasons that I can’t fathom, a woman reading Dostoyevsky is at least 70% more attractive than a similar looking woman that isn’t reading anything. I was supposed to be writing and instead, I found myself just sitting there, wondering if I’m a book fetishist or even if there is such a thing. Is it the paper? Is it the font? Is it the rustling sound of the turning pages? Anyway, the upshot was that I lost at least half an hour of writing time worrying that I’m some sort of biblio-pervert.

4. Ducks. It’s not possible to write anything near a duck. I know, I’ve tried. They do three things that are distracting; they quack, they waddle and they sleep with their heads facing backwards. How are you supposed to write anything near a creature like that?

5. Words. I overheard a man and a woman that were seated near me on a bench. I listened, because you never know if you might be able to use what you hear as dialogue later on. The woman had a very distracted, slightly disconnected, manner of speech; she would leave long pauses mid-sentence before eventually resuming. At one point she said “…of course, Mike would fall for her…she’s very…”. It was during the final pause that the word bendy popped into my head and caused me to burst into – what outwardly appeared to be spontaneous – laughter. The couple – who had previously observed me dragging my hands around on the ground – soon moved on, presumably a little concerned. Or even a lot concerned.

6. Tan. I thought I’d tanned slightly while I was writing in the park but it turns out that I hadn’t. The following morning I woke with one red arm. It’s a completely different colour to my other arm but, as my highly amused wife pointed out to me, it does go better with the kitchen.

7. Just Because. I don’t know what I was thinking, Trying to write in the park was clearly a foolish act. It’s the wrong thing to do there: it’s not what parks are for. I should have been running around with a ball or a Frisbee (again, I feel I should stress that I’m not a dog) or reading or feeding the ducks. Writing there was a disaster. In conclusion; if you need to write anything, the park’s the wrong place to do it.*

*And it’s full of book-perverts.

May 24, 2010
7 Reasons That We Shouldn’t Make A Podcast

Well, here it is. You didn’t know that you’d been waiting for it, but it’s here anyway: It’s the 7 Reasons podcast. To play it, simply press the play button on the player or, if you want to download it, follow this link, then right-click and select the “save as” option. After all, who wouldn’t want a miniature 7 Reasons team to carry around with them and be in their ears? No one, that’s who. Probably.

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May 23, 2010
7 Reasons You Are Wrong Not To Love The 2012 Olympic Mascots

1. Equality. Wenlock (he’s on the right) and Mandeville belong to a young boy and a young girl. Though for quite a while I thought the young girl was also a young boy. But this has clearly been done on purpose to show solidarity behind those athletes who are still deciding whether they should enter the Olympics as a man or a woman. Caster Semenya for example.*

2. Billy Crystal. Okay, not Billy Crystal per se, but the animated character he voiced in Monsters Inc. Mike Wazowski. He was a one-eyed monster and, at first, children were terrified of him. They had nightmares and all sorts. But eventually they got round to liking him. Loving him even. And that is what will happen to Wenlock and Mandeville. They may terrify you now, but come 2012 you’ll be making your own Wenlock outfits.

3. The Future. While we are on that point. This is 2010. The Olympics aren’t for another two years. Who knows what might happen in the next 798 days? We may get visited by Wenlock and Mandeville look-alikes from somewhere else in this universe. They might turn up and fix the whole global warming thing. And the economy thing. And mend your bike puncture. If that happens you can’t possibly tell me you won’t be happy. You can’t possibly tell me you won’t be immediate fans of Hemlock and Manderlay. So let’s have a little perspective please people.

4. Home Life. The boy and girl live with their grandparents. I don’t know why, but I am guessing that this is because, maybe, Mummy and Daddy have gone away for a while. Possibly to prison. Or maybe they were investigating volcanic activity in Iceland a few weeks ago. Either way, their Grandpa George does something very sweet for his grandchildren. He whacks a bit of steel into some quite funky shapes. The children are delighted. Yet all you can do is complain. Why can’t you be happy for them you heartless bunch?

5. The Beaver. Which would you prefer? Wenlock and Mandeville or Amik The Beaver from the 1976 Montreal Games? I for one am thankful our designers are no longer inspired by roadkill.

6. Security. Let’s not pretend that some nasty people aren’t going to think about doing something bad during the games. If we have a load of one-eyed freaks guarding the stadia, I strongly suspect that they may think twice. Especially as I have heard that Wenlock v1.2 will has a laser beam that he can fire from his eye.

7. The Film. Still don’t like them? Still think we should have had a cuddly lion? Well, watch the film. It’s beautifully made, beautifully told, beautifully funny and beautifully optimistic. You beauty.

*I admit this is in very bad taste. I am even a little bit ashamed of writing it. But I really was struggling for reasons. You understand. All complaints should be addressed to Marc Fearns.

May 21, 2010
7 Reasons To Write In The Park

Something amazing happened yesterday; the sun came out in Yorkshire. With a mixture of delirium, excitement and astonishment I abandoned my plans and headed off to my local park. I decided to justify this dereliction of home improvement duty by coming up with 7 Reasons To Write In The Park.

Picture by www.webbaviation.co.uk

1. Fitness. I walked to the park, something that probably counts as one of my five portions of exercise per day. Had I stayed at home to write I would have had to have paced up-and-down to achieve the same effect. Not for very long, the park’s just around the corner, but still, it all helps.

2. Ice Cream. There is no ice cream in my house, but my local park has an ice cream vendor. I love ice cream, and it turns out that it’s a brilliant accompaniment to writing, better even than the bananas that usually fuel my compositions. Obviously your local park might not have ice cream, but it’s not my fault if your park sucks and mine doesn’t.

3. Inspiration. While I was writing in the park two middle-aged men, deep in conversation, walked past me and I overheard one of them exclaim, “…I don’t even own a dress!” I have no idea what the context was, but at some point I’ll be able to use this in something. It’s currently a monologue, but eventually, I may be able to use it as dialogue – or perhaps even trialogue – if such a thing exists. Those words came free at the park; I wouldn’t have heard anyone say them at home. And by that, I don’t mean that I own a dress, I mean that I wouldn’t be saying it aloud to myself while writing. My wife wouldn’t say it either. She has loads of the things. They’re everywhere.

4. Sunlight. Often, when writing, the location of the writer means that they don’t see much sunlight. In my case, I usually write near a window in a West facing room in North Yorkshire so I’m more likely to see a unicorn piloting a zeppelin to Greenland than I am to see the sun. Yesterday, however, as I emerged from my house blinking and startled into the sunlight and headed off to the park it felt good. I may have even tanned slightly while writing! Extraordinary.

5. Ducks. There are ducks in the park. Ducks are among the cutest animals in the world; they’re amazing. Right about now, you’re probably asking yourself: How did the ducks help with the writing? Well, if I hadn’t seen the ducks, I wouldn’t have mentioned them and these words wouldn’t be here and you’d just be staring at a blank screen. That’s how the ducks helped. Bet you’re glad I didn’t see geese.

6. Comparison. When I write at home I write in a room full of books. From my desk I can see a sizable collection of exalted works by a canon of noteworthy authors. This is intimidating company for anyone trying to write anything. In the park, I was free from any feelings of inferiority and was able to scrawl my hackneyed musings…er…compose my insightful witticisms unabashed. I did briefly sight a man that resembled the late poet Philip Larkin, but it wasn’t him. The real Philip Larkin would never have tripped over a sunbather.

7. Just Because. It’s just nice in the park. It was a glorious day and had I stayed at home I’d have been obliged to varnish the garden furniture or paint a wall or something. But I didn’t. I went to the park, had a good time writing and was nearer to the pub when I’d finished. The whole experience left me feeling thoroughly happy and with a great sense of well-being. In conclusion; if you need to write anything, the park’s the place to do it.*

*Unless you’re Philip Roth or James Ellroy, I don’t need the pressure.

May 20, 2010
7 Reasons To Fly A Kite

1. Cats. It’s a well known fact that 80% of all missing cats are somewhere up a tree. 60% of these cats are found when someone accidentally gets their kite tangled up on the same branch. So basically, the morale of this reason is thus: If you’ve lost a cat, buy a kite.

2. Life Skills Training. There aren’t many more annoying things in life than Janet Street-Porter, but trying to fly a kite when there is no wind has to be one of them. Charging up and down the park, dragging a bit of string and cellophane – or whatever that material is – along the ground is enough to give anyone the hump. But this is where perseverance comes in. If at first you don’t succeed, keep trying until the wind comes.

3. You Want To Be David Attenborough. I, myself, have always liked the idea of being a sports commentator. Which is why, whenever I see a dog off it’s lead, I pretend it’s in a Grand Prix. It’s good practice. If you want to make wildlife documentaries, I can’t think of better place to practice than in the park. Preferably one like that in the above photo. You can make insightful comment on the relationship between a giant purple bear and a red lizard without any danger of either of them turning on you.

4. SOS. I know it’s unlikely, but if you ever find yourself on an apparently deserted island, well the best thing you can do is whip out your kite. Fly it high in the sky and there is much more chance of you being spotted and saved before the island monster comes and reads your mind and then kills you.*

5. Hand-eye Co-ordination. If you’ve ever wanted to improve your use of a knife and fork or your ability to text when drunk, then flying a kite surely has to be the perfect practice. Keep the kite in the air, without the strings tangling, without taking out another kite and without walking off the edge of the cliff. The results will be incredible. Don’t believe me? Well, you try using a knife and fork at the foot of the Beachy Head.

6. Chat-up Technique. If you see someone you like flying their kite, all you have to do is ‘accidentally’ run towards them and take their kite out with yours. Or, if you think they’ll provide you with a soft landing, just take them out. The next step is to be apologetic and, before you know it, you’ll be off on a date to the nearest kite repair store. Or the hospital.

7. Watch Retriever. You’ve probably never thought of this, but next time a magpie flies off with your watch, get the kite out. If you are quick enough you can chase after the pesky thing and capture it. Much more bird friendly than a shotgun.

*I might have been watching Lost a bit too much.

May 19, 2010
7 Reasons I Shouldn’t Have Seen This Picture Of Russell Crowe

1. Lips. Well, Russell looks manly and scary as always. But there’s something strange about his lips. They look a little red, don’t they? They strike a feminine note in an otherwise masculine portrait. That’s what inspired me to do this:

2. Head. There, that’s better. But there’s something else bothering me. In the original photo, the top of his head’s missing. Now I could try to blend in some hair to make it appear that he has a complete head but that’s tricky and time-consuming, and I have a simpler idea:

3. Accessorise. Okay ladies, now I’m sure you’ve all noticed that the hat looks a little out of place as it doesn’t go with the rest of his outfit. What he needs is something else to compliment it. Don’t worry, I’ve sorted it.

4. Legs. Russell has no legs in the picture either. Now, there’s nothing wrong with having a missing limb – as these amazing guys are preparing to demonstrate – but we know that Crowe has two of them. Never mind, I can get some from the internet.

5. Background. So there you go, Russell’s finished. But what about that dreary background? I’ll put him somewhere else.

6. Words. Not quite finished yet, we need some words to complete the picture. I’m a little tired now, what with all of the photoshopping, so I’ll need some help with that. This is now officially a caption competition. Put them in the comments section and we’ll add the best entry to the picture.

7. Danger. You might think that it’s foolhardy to lampoon a notoriously angry and volatile man like Russell Crowe, but how hard can he be? My name’s Jonathan Lee, and I’m not scared in the slightest.

**********Update**********

We were inundated by both entries to the caption competition and it was hard to pick a winner. But there can only be one and the winner is…Robert A. Foot with this entry.

Sailor 1: There’s something not right about that woman over there. Sailor 2: Yeah, her accent keeps changing every 3 minutes.

Thanks very much, Rob and Daryl, for your entries. You’ve both won a place on our prestigious (though seldom updated) Links page.

May 18, 2010
7 Reasons That Monkeys Are More Advanced Than Humans

The Ascent Of Monkey

1. Discernment. Now I know that I’m generalising here about monkeys. I know that there are many different types of monkey and that they’re all very different to each other. But if you put a barbary ape and a baboon in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to tell you which one was which. And I’d be very scared. The baboon would know that it isn’t a barbary ape though, and the barbary ape would know that it isn’t a baboon. Thus, they are both more advanced than I am. And less frightened too.

2. Feet. Monkeys – some of them – have amazing feet, which they use every bit as adroitly and dextrously as they use their hands. Humans, however, do not. Human feet are almost unmalleable blocks of flesh and bone that are useful only for standing on and for kicking things. We can just about pick up a pen with our toes, but that’s it. Monkeys can hang upside-down from trees using theirs. I can’t. I fell on my head when I tried.

Show off!

3. Adaptation. The most advanced of animals evolve over time to adapt to their environs. Monkeys have developed all-over body hair that protects their delicate skin from the effects of the sun and also keeps out the cold. Humans, however, are less advanced and have to rely on finding or manufacturing artificial coverings to protect themselves with. There is evidence of some evolution – humans do have a small amount of body hair – but the stupid creatures usually remove it, mostly with primitive and dangerous tools that often cause them injury. Pillocks.

4. Social Position. The higher echelons of our society – Viscounts, Lords etc – live on vast country estates which we, the hoi polloi, finance by turning up in our cars and in coach parties to drive around their grounds and observe them in their natural habitat. Monkeys, similarly to the landowning gentry, also live on vast country estates that we finance by turning up in our cars and coaches to observe them up-close. Thus, monkeys have attained a higher social standing than most of the UK’s population. They’re also above the law, seemingly able to vandalise our cars with impunity.

5. Environmental Impact. Humans are still trying to decide whether global warming is man-made or naturally-occurring. The one thing that nobody’s proposing though, is that it is the fault of monkeys, who seem to live in an environmentally sustainable manner. Monkeys are also not responsible for other environmental catastrophes, such as the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, the Italian dioxin crisis, or the construction of Scarborough.

6. Geography. Like humans, monkeys work too. Their labour is primarily concerned with food and shelter. You don’t see troops of commuting monkeys though; they are clever enough to realise that life is a lot easier if you live where you work. People, on the other hand, often travel hundreds of miles to get to their place of work. They all do it at the same time and then spend their free-time complaining about it, often to me. They’re idiots.

7. Other Matters. Monkeys are not responsible for the McFlurry, mobile phones that play music through speakers, Jedward, Hitler, golf, tinsel, dancing, the A bomb, jigsaw puzzles, soap operas, the defection of Adrian Chiles to ITV or the Trojan virus that affected our website last Friday (sorry if you were inconvenienced by that); people are. Monkeys are clearly more advanced than us.

May 17, 2010