7 Reasons

Tag: seven reasons

  • Russian Roulette Sunday: 7 Reasons Top Trumps

    Russian Roulette Sunday: 7 Reasons Top Trumps

    Russian Roulette Sunday 7 Reasons Top TrumpsHello. It’s Jon here. I like your pyjamas. No, I know your not wearing them at the moment. But that’s not the point. Today I thought we’d play a game. And when I say ‘we’ I really mean ‘me’. The game I’m going to have with myself today is Top Trumps. But not just any version of Top Trumps. Oh no, sir. I shall be playing 7 Reasons Top Trumps. With myself. I have two cards. A Jonathan Lee card. Woohoo! And a Marc Fearns card. Boo! Let’s duel.

    Drink: Tea v Coffee. So we have Lee with his traditional English cuppa against Fearns with his rest of the world coffee. Verdict: Lee win. 7 Reasons is a British humour site after all. And tea is better.

    Sidekick: @SirStraussy v Horatio Pyewackett Caractacus Fearns. It’s the spoofed version of England Cricket Captain Andrew Strauss up against Marc’s cat. Verdict: Fearns Win. Horatio Pyewackett Caractacus Fearns has walked over foil for a BBC Radio 5 LIve experiment. @SirStraussy hasn’t.

    Best Rating: +41 v +7. So it’s 7 Reasons Sports Personality Of The Year Was A Joke up against a couple of Marc’s posts that have registered plus seven. Verdict: Lee win. Maths.

    Grammatical Errors: 298 v 1. A disgraceful number of misplaced apostrophes taking on the incorrect spelling of Jennifer Aniston. Verdict: Fearns win. 7 Reasons uses the English language. It helps if the writers know how to use it.

    Special Power: Self-love v Cow Magnet. A man who fancies himself a bit too much against a man who is fancied by cows. Verdict: Score draw. Narcissism is not pretty. Neither is being buggered by a cow.

    Overall Result: 2-2. Well it wasn’t a classic. In fact it was a bit like watching Carlisle play Scarborough. In the end though, it was a fair result. Player of the game was Lee, purely because he had better headwear. Next week we might actually play Russian Roulette.

  • Guest Post: 7 Reasons That Birthdays Are Rubbish

    Guest Post: 7 Reasons That Birthdays Are Rubbish

    It’s Saturday, and joining us on the 7 Reasons sofa this week is the brilliant and wise – though not old in the slightest – Sarah Ayub.  Not old, got that.  Not old.

    A Birthday cake iced with the words "Happy Birtday" also bearing the words, "the moistest cake you've ever tasted!"  Cake Fail

    1. Another Year Older.  Oh great, another year has passed.   I mean, who really wants to be reminded of yet another year when you didn’t get round to doing all the things you were planning to do?   I know I don’t, in fact most days I refuse to acknowledge that I’m no longer eighteen.   Especially depressing for me this year was the realisation I was moving into the next age bracket, and I’m now grouped with people nearly ten years older than me.

    2.  Secrets.   It might just be me, but when colleagues start talking in hushed tones as you approach, the paranoia begins to set in.   It’s bad enough worrying what people think of you without the added whispers and giggles.

    3.  Indecision.  I’m a very indecisive person.  Deciding whether to drink tea or coffee first thing in the morning takes me long enough, so just imagine how long it takes to decide what to do for my birthday.   Every year I start off thinking big and yet, by the time my birthday rolls around, I’m lucky if I’m having a family dinner and a slice of cake.   I used to play it by ear and see where the day took me, but have since realised that these things must be planned well in advance.  If I don’t, I’ve found that well meaning friends and family take it upon themselves to arrange something for me, and that is never good.

    4.  Surprises.      “Woah, woah, bad idea.  Surprise parties are hostile, they’re dark.  People jump out and scream at you, they never come to any good.” – Dr Mark Sloan

    There’s a wise man, if ever there was one.  If you are thinking of throwing someone a surprise party please remember Dr Sloan’s words and decide against it.   As someone who has been thrown a number of surprise birthday parties I can say, with authority, that he is correct.   Just think: Do you really want to make the birthday girl cry?   And I don’t mean tears of joy.

    In case you were wondering it’s the Dr Mark Sloan on the left, and not the right.  Although I’m sure if you were to ask Diagnosis Murder’s Dr Sloan about surprise parties, he would give exactly the same answer.

    5.  Teddy Bears.  I realise that teddy bears are cute; I’m just not a fan.   However, over the years, I seem to have accumulated quite a few, and as they were given as gifts I can’t bring myself to give them away.  The clutter is bad enough but, even worse, it makes people think that you want another to add to your collection.   Please, no more.

     

    The one cuddly toy I actually bought myself – Skipper

    6.  Letdown.  Even if you do accept that you’re getting older, survive the surprise party and receive amazing gifts, birthdays are never as good as you think they will be.   A lot like New Years Eve, I find them to be a bit of a letdown.

    7.  Molly Ringwald. Well, at least no one forgot …

  • 7 Reasons It’ll Be Great Under David & Nick

    7 Reasons It’ll Be Great Under David & Nick

     

    Cameron & Clegg in the garden

    Yesterday I watched David and Nick in the garden. I don’t know about you, but I kind of liked it. I felt a sense of profound optimism. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I am deluded. Maybe my sense of profound optimism combined with my natural optimism has made me go completely loopy, but I think it might just work. I think it might just be great under Dave and Nick. And here’s why:

    1.  It’s In The Names. The meaning of David is beloved. The meaning of Nick is victory of the people. That sounds good to me. Incidentally the meaning of Gordon is large fortification. Which probably explains why it took so bloody long to get rid of him.

    2.  It’s In The Colours. Anyone who went to school and paid attention when they accidentally knocked over the blue and yellow paint bottles, will know that, when combined, they make green*. You know what this means. The environment. David and Nick are going to save us from Global Warming. Caroline Lucas must be furious.

    David Cameron & Nick Clegg Downing Street

    3.  It’s In The Hands. As luck would have it, David and Nick seem to favour opposite hands. As the above shows, David likes his right and Nick likes his left. This means of course that they have two spare hands that meet in centre ground. Genius.

    4.  It’s In The Hair. It may be May, but that means sod all in this country. The weather is still unpredictable/predictably rubbish. As I have pointed out, yesterday David and Nick were in the garden. The sun was out but it was chilly and a tad windy. Miraculously though, for forty minutes, their hair acted superbly. Not once did either of them so much as touch their coiffures. It was the kind of strong, stable hair that this country so badly needs.

    5.  It’s In The Wives. Neither Samantha or Miriam – that’s Mrs Cameron and Mrs Clegg if you are not on first name terms yet – seem particularly keen on the limelight. Which is good. Because they have a job to do. Run our country. Don’t be fooled, David and Nick don’t really know what they’re doing. And they are married men. Their wives tell them what to do. So for the next five years Great Britain will be run by a creative director and a Spanish lawyer. Mandelson and Campbell, eat your hearts out.

    6.  It’s In The Looks. It’s quite useful that they are called the cabinet because that is what most of them look like. And so they should. It’s brains you need in politics, not beauty. The last thing we need is for Theresa May to be distracted by a six figure sum to pose naked for Playboy or for Ken Clarke to get his braces off for the centre-fold of Cosmopolitan. Thankfully – for all our sakes – that isn’t going to happen. It’s going to be all work and no play for David and Nick’s boys. And girl.

    7.  It’s In The Logos. No one in the world has picked up on this yet. But that is why I am me and the rest of you do interesting things with your time. The Conservative logo is a tree. The Liberal Democrat logo is a bird. Birds like trees. It’s where they live. You couldn’t make this stuff up. If this coalition was destined to fail the Liberal Democrat logo would have been an axe. But it’s not. It’s a bird. And David has let it into his foliage. Bravo.

    *Yes, if it is pure blue and pure yellow it would turn black, but that’s the point. It’s a coalition. All purity has been thrown out of the window.

    NB: I might not believe all of the above nonsense.

  • 7 Reasons That The Ash Cloud Is Just Taking The Piss Now

    7 Reasons That The Ash Cloud Is Just Taking The Piss Now

    A cartoon drawing of a black cloud

    1.  Time. The eruption of Eyjafjallajökull was on the 14th of April and news of the eruption emerged three days later, when newsreaders had finally mastered saying “Eyjafjallajökull”.  It’s now the 12th of May, so that’s almost a month that the cloud’s been menacing Europe for.  A month is a long time:  It’s a long time in politics; it’s a long time in sport; it’s a long time in Tipperary, and it’s a bloody long time for a cloud of ash to be hanging around, cocking the whole of Europe up.  Enough!

     

    The route of the Iceland volcanic (volcano) ash cloud plotted on a map of Europe
    The Route Taken By The Ash Cloud

    2.  Movement. The cloud is just floating about, apparently at random.  Its course is seemingly unaffected by the weather and meteorologists can’t predict where it will go to next.  I’ve plotted the cloud’s movement over the last few weeks and here’s the result.  Just look at it! It’s a doodle.  I might as well have commissioned a two year old boy to draw it with a wax crayon, but I didn’t.  I did it properly, using Photoshop.  The cloud’s making me look like an idiot.  And I’m not even married to it.

    3.  Light. The cloud – when it is between the ground and the sun – apparently blocks out some sunlight.  I’m terrified it’s going to turn up near me.  I live in Yorkshire and can’t afford to see any less sun; I can already light up a room just by removing my clothes.  If I were any paler I’d be a hazard to aircraft – assuming there were any flying, that is.  It’s bound to turn up here sooner or later, it’s already been everywhere else.  Even Lancashire.

    4.  Not Dissipating. Three weeks ago, after the cloud passed over the North-West of England, my friend Roger found an ashy residue on his car.  We would logically assume that debris from the cloud was dropped on many cars (and on other things), not just his.  But the cloud hasn’t shrunk, which means that it’s either capable of self-regeneration, or it’s persecuting Roger.  Either way, that’s bad form.

    5.  Portugal. It’s not just Roger that the cloud’s persecuting.  It’s Portugal.  I have friends who were stuck there on holiday for an extra week until, finally, the cloud went off to Scotland and they were able to fly back.  Another friend was due to fly out to Lisbon this week, but the cloud has decided to go back to Portugal, so he can’t.  I don’t know why the cloud is tormenting the Portugese – the French have probably already surrendered to it – but it does seem a little unfair.  Perhaps it tasted a glass of Mateus Rose and it’s holding a grudge.

    6.  The News Agenda. The cloud’s keeping important stories out of the news.  I’ve only just found out that there was some sort of election and that we’ve got a new government.  Who knew?

    7.  Air. I’m beginning to suspect that the cloud is sentient – after all, it couldn’t have caused any more chaos if it were conducting a meticulously planned campaign.  I’m also beginning to worry that it’s evil.  Think about it, the last person that tried to hamper British air efficacy and caused large-scale movement of people around Europe by land was Hitler.  We need to act now!

    The Ash Cloud Menacing Britain

  • 7 Reasons That The BBC Election Night Coverage Was Weird

    7 Reasons That The BBC Election Night Coverage Was Weird

    The BBC Election special logo 2010

    1.  Fiona Bruce. Bizarrely, for their election special, the BBC decided to segregate the sexes, with the men downstairs and the women upstairs.  Queen of the woman-zone was – of course – Fiona Bruce.  She was obviously so determined to be seen as the prettiest of them all that she appeared to be wearing all of the make-up.  I don’t just mean foundation, concealer, blusher and mascara (I have just reached the limit of my make-up vocabulary), I mean the BBC make-up department’s entire stock of everything.  It was extraordinary.  Her face appeared to be entombed in concrete.  She’s noted for being calm and cool, but if she’d become hysterical during the broadcast it wouldn’t have become apparent until next Wednesday.  They’re probably still trying to excavate her chin now.

     

    2.  Dimbleby. Down in the man-area David Dimbleby was firmly in command.  Seated at the big table, he exuded authority and unflappable professionalism.  Of course, there’s no reason that he shouldn’t have, he’s been covering elections since Gladstone was in power.  I checked Wikipedia on election night to find out Dimble’s age and discovered that he is a hundred and fifty-four, and that he is immortal.  Thanks Wikipedia.

     

    Emily Maitlis and the giant iPad (iMonolith) big screen form the BBC1 (BBC) Election special 2010 featuring Barking Nick Griffin (BNP)
    The iMonolith. It's very perceptive.

     

    3.  2010: A Geek Odyssey. Also upstairs in the woman-zone was Emily Maitlis.  She was in possession of some extraordinary equipment; she had something that looked like a giant iPad (an iPad Maxi, perhaps).  I wondered at first if it was a regular sized one and they’d shrunk Emily Maitlis, but that turned out not to be the case.  It looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite work out why.  Then it struck me.  It was like a cross between an iPad and the monolith from 2001: A Space Odyssey.  Presumably across the nation, Apple-obsessed-geeks were gazing in awe at the iMonolith, drooling, and thinking “I want one”.  That was pretty much what I was doing too, though I wasn’t looking at the iMonolith.

     

    4.  Tradition. One of the best election night traditions that the viewer can participate in is the time-honoured custom of being aggravated by the ridiculous and vapid CGI effects that Jeremy Vine uses to illustrate election night events.  Appearing baffled, rolling your eyes and criticising the stupidity of the CGI is the viewer’s traditional role on election night – it’s like being Paxman – but this year, something strange happened.  I understood all of the graphics; I wasn’t annoyed by them; I didn’t feel patronised by them; in fact, they were quite good.  I don’t pay my licence fee to not be annoyed by the election night graphics.  It is my right.  Next time, I expect them to spend more money on them and make them as vast, preposterous and inscrutable as usual.

     

    5.  Paxman. The third inhabitant of the woman-zone was everybody’s favourite pantomime dame, Jeremy Paxman.  My god he was furious.  Perhaps he was cross because he’d been put upstairs with the ladies away from the big table, or perhaps it was because Dimbleby refuses to die.  Whatever the reason, he was angry, short-tempered and petulant throughout the broadcast.  It’s a shame to see that a once fine broadcaster has become such a parody of himself.  Even having two laptops wasn’t enough to placate him.  He looked like a man who didn’t want to be there and I hope he gets his wish.

     

     

    6.  The Luvvie Boat. To cover an election that the Tories (who have promised to slash the BBC budget) were widely expected to win, the BBC chose to spend a vast amount of money giving free booze to celebrities on a swanky boat moored on the Thames.  They’re obviously idiots.  Captaining the good ship Lollygag was Andrew Neil, a man so creepy that spiders shriek and stand on chairs when they encounter him.  It was Neil’s job to elicit the opinions of drunken celebs on the election and in this he was successful.  Unfortunately, as is often the case after a lot of drink has been taken, the views being expressed were not as coherent and insightful as they might otherwise have been.  Probably the best slurrer of the evening was Kirsty Allsop.  I can’t remember exactly what point she was trying to make, and she probably can’t either.  The soberest person on the boat appeared to be Bruce Forsyth, but his opinion wasn’t helpful either because he’s clearly mad.  There is nothing in the world that can be improved by knowing Brucie’s opinion on it.  Nothing.

     

    7.  The Result. We’re still waiting for the result, it’s been four days!  Hurry up.

  • Russian Roulette Sunday: Advertising Take II

    Russian Roulette Sunday: Advertising Take II

    The 7 (seven) Reasons Russian Roulette Sunday logo featuring Christopher Walken from the Deer Hunter

    Hi!  Marc here again.  Last week, as you may recall, we blew our entire advertising budget on a film by Pearl & Dean.  To be honest, we were a bit disappointed by it.  We were so disappointed, in fact, that we thought we could probably do better ourselves.  We reasoned that with my capacity for historical perspective and Jon’s talent for understatement and his innate modesty, it wouldn’t be too difficult to put together a simple and cheap – yet memorable – advert for our website.  Here it is:

    7 Reasons Advert II

    So, in conclusion, please send donations to:

    The 7 Reasons Advertising Fund

    7 Reasons Towers

    London

    W12 7RJ

     

     

  • Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Watch Ashes To Ashes

    Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Watch Ashes To Ashes

    Pushing us to one side and sitting on the 7 Reasons sofa this week is Chris Aram. Though we kind of get the feeling that she would much rather be on the sofa with someone else.

    Gene Hunt Quattro

    1.  Gene Hunt. The archetypal macho man. We don’t necessarily want to live with him, but we do want to be shagged by him. Anywhere. Anytime. Anyhow. Men envy him and wish to god they could get away with behaviour like that!

    2.  Philip Glenister. A damn good actor – who has a brother who is also very fine and completely different. He’s probably good for an intellectual debate, but maybe not a…

    3.  Gene Hunt. Who wouldn’t respond to being called “Bollynickers”? Okay, maybe with a slap, yes, but just think of the making up. Who else could say, “Fire up the Quattro” and get away with it? That’s right only Gene.

    4.  That Uptown Girl Routine. Now I work for the NHS and, after an arduous night shift following that comic relief night, we greeted the day staff with our own version of that routine. But when Gene Hunt and co performed it, we were all in awe. How could they do that and not look naff…

    5.  Philip Glenister. Having watched him closely for a while now – in various guises (him not me) – he is a fab actor. Always self deprecating. Keeping a little back. Always leaving you wanting more.

    6.  Gene Hunt. Always dresses well. Likes a drink and a fag. Seems to be harbouring a secret love story. That nasty Jim seems hell bent on trying to make him the bad guy, but let me tell you, it aint going to work and it only makes the ladies want to protect him and stick up for this luscious man. (Sorry getting carried away here!).

    7.  Philip Glenister. No one else could have played the part of Gene Hunt. This is no Dr Who. I mean, Matt Smith being macho? Nice as he is…I don’t think so. And Glenister is not going to be defined by this role alone. We all look forward to more of his work.

  • Election Special: 7 Reasons I Managed To Stay Up All Night

    Election Special: 7 Reasons I Managed To Stay Up All Night

    Yesterday, there was a general election. You may have noticed. The results came in over night. I was there. Throughout. This is how I did it.

    10:00pm. So we have an Exit Poll – which it turns out is very different from an exit pole. It’s going to be Hung Parliament time. I can hardly contain myself. So I don’t and have a biscuit. Ten minutes into the programme and the BBC have a screen fail. Unfortunately, there was no screen fail while Dorothy was walking along the Yellow Brick Road. Or was it Jeremy Vine bouncing down Downing Street? Who cares. The BBC try and talk to Michael Gove. He’s mute. I don’t blame him. Jeremy Paxman is asking silly questions. Oh no, Gove has stopped being mute. And worse luck, so has Harriet Harman. I note her choice of nose this evening. I’m not sure why I note it, but I do. Some twats in Sunderland seem to think they are on Record Breakers. Tossers.

    11.00pm. The first hour wasn’t too bad. I feel relatively fresh. Mind you, I am not usually in bed by this time anyway. Not that I need to share my bedroom habits with you. And I hope you don’t want to share yours with me. (But if you do we have an email address: [email protected]). I’ve got the munchies now. My fridge shouts sausages at me. Not literally. That would wake the neighbours. I ignore them anyway. Another biscuit. Labour are winning 1-0-0-0 by the way. Jeremy Vine is playing virtual dominoes. Esther Rantzen is on my screen. It brings back memories of Hearts Of Gold. In the meantime, Fiona Bruce seems to be finding everything absolutely hilarious. I don’t know why. This is boring.

    Midnight. And we are into a new day. The day we get a new government. Or not. Ken Clarke just made me giggle. Some sly comment about Paxman cutting away from him to show Gordon Brown arrive at his count. David Cameron has gone to the pub. It’s 00:33. Late license? Blimey I need a drink. Stricnine ideally. Only three seats in so far. Why is it so slow? Eyelids beginning to feel a little heavy now. David Dimbleby is angry. Very angry. It’s a scandal apparently. I think he’s talking about people getting turned away from polling stations, but I am distracted by thoughts of him in the boardroom. Not in a dirty way. In a Sir Alan Sugar getting annoyed with the candidates way. I wonder what Sir Alan Sugar is doing tonight. Subbuteo is my guess. I used to love that game. Time for another biscuit.

    1:00am. The Tories still haven’t won a seat, but boy they’re swinging hard. Mind you the Baltimore Orioles swing hard every year and look where that has got them in the AL East. I’m talking about baseball now. How did that happen? Oh yes, I was thinking about swinging. Cameron just stroked his wife’s bottom. Nice touch. I feel drunk. Which is odd considering I haven’t had a drink since Saturday night. I think I need to start now though. Twenty-three seats declared. David Blunkett has admitted defeat. I think he has fired off a bit too early to be honest. But as the camera won’t pan downwards, I’ll never be able to confirm this.

    2:00am. And we’ve made it to 2am. The Tories have won some seats, Labour have won some more seats and the Lib Dems appear to be going backwards. Which is odd. Nick Robinson agrees with me. It is odd. But enough of this election nonsense, I am back on the tea. Not that I ever really left it. It’s just been a while since my last cup. Like forty minutes. Now I’m having a look at Twitter. There is a lot of hate out there isn’t there? My political views – and they are mainstream – make me anything ranging from a ‘deluded prick’ to a ****. I chuckle to myself heartily. The Sex Education Show is on Channel 4. I’m not watching it, I just pressed guide to see what else was on. Now someone’s talking Welsh. What’s the point?

    3:00am. My freeview box wants to do a daily service update. Cameron wants to talk. Seeing as I watched Brown do his speech after he held on to his seat, I’ll give Cameron his moment. He doesn’t seem to know what he’s talking about though. Fair enough, he hasn’t been to sleep for months. We’ve got a race to the first hundred on now. It’s neck and neck. Not anymore it’s not… oh, yes it is! No, it’s not! Yes, it is! I’m doing Murray Walker impressions. And The Tories win, win, win! Well that was fun. That’s kept me going for the last thirty-minutes. Now I’m screwed. I’m not going to survive another hour before we get to 200. Fiona Bruce is still high I see.

    4:00am. And now I enter my 7th hour. Nick Clegg holds on to his seat. But he doesn’t look too happy. Maybe someone ate his Mars bar. That is just about the worst feeling ever. I have a headache now. Sleep deprivation beginning to bite. And now it’s raining. I wonder if the Tories need less seats under the Duckworth-Lewis system? I ask Marc. He doesn’t know. His cat thinks he knows though. Marc has been talking to his cat. I wish I had a cat. Would be so much more interesting than talking to myself. It’s definitely going to be a hung parliament then. In that case I’m going to bed. I leave the situation standing at 224-167-36-26. It’s been fun. No, actually, it hasn’t.

  • Election Special: 7 Reasons It’s Important To Vote Today

    Election Special: 7 Reasons It’s Important To Vote Today

    7Reasons.org is avowedly apolitical, but the 7 Reasons team are not.  As individuals, the 7 Reasons team concur on some things politically – the colossal importance of Sussex in the world order and subsidies for internet humourists are two of them – and differ on other things.  So when we go and vote today, we’ll probably vote differently: That’s a good thing, we live in a democracy.  The important thing is that we’re voting:  Here’s why.

    A large metallic X (cross)

     

    1.  Local Issues. Never mind the fatuous faux-presidential debates featuring Smug, Clunking and Irrelevant, you won’t be able to vote for – or against – any of them anyway (unless you live in Witney, Kircaldy and Cowdenbeath or Sheffield Hallam, that is).  You’ll be voting for the person that you feel can best represent your interests, both locally and nationally; the person you think can pressure your local council into mending pot-holes or providing stocks for people that park in cycle lanes (I’m still waiting for a reply to that letter), because that’s pretty much what your only contact with your elected representatives will be.  You don’t decide who’s going to be Prime Minister, the parliamentary representatives of the majority party do that, but you can decide who represents you and your interests there.

     

    2.  Expenses. The parliamentary expenses scandal showed us that there’s serious cross-party corruption in Parliament.  If the incumbent of your local seat came out of the expenses scandal badly, this is your chance to remove them from office.  Even if you don’t care about politics, you should surely care about integrity; and how many more duck houses and moats do you want to pay for?  I’ve always wanted an orangery by the way, if anyone’s buying.

     

    3.  Complaint. If you don’t vote then you can’t complain about things afterwards.  I haven’t met a British person that can go for five hours without complaining about something, let alone five years.  If you have to go that long without complaining you’ll probably explode, or perhaps you’ll find an inner serenity and be elected the new Dalai Lama.  Either way, not complaining is uncharted territory and it’s probably dangerous.

     

    4.  Other Countries.  In the 2005 general election the turnout was 61.3%, which means that 38.7% of people that were eligible to vote didn’t do so.  Okay, some of those abstainers probably had good reasons – illness, unforeseen events etc. – but that’s still quite a shameful figure, and if you don’t vote, you shame the nation.  After all, if North Korea can get an electoral turnout of nearly 100% then so can we.  Or perhaps that’s a bad example.  But elections are infrequent in the U.K. and it really isn’t too much trouble to go out and vote.  It’s not like we live in Switzerland where they have to vote (on average) seven times per year.  Voting’s not difficult and you don’t have to do it often – it’s much like washing a duvet.*

     

    5.  See A School. When was the last time you were inside a school?  If you’re old enough to vote then you’re too old to attend one.  Election day is the only day when many grown-ups can turn up at schools without being asked to leave.  Our local school has a hopscotch court painted onto the playground, which is a great place to play while you contemplate how to vote.

     

    6.  Change. All of the main parties have told us – many times during this campaign – that a vote for them is a vote for change.  I love the idea of being paid for my vote and I’m going to put my change toward a tiramisu.  Or a wok.  No, a tiramisu.  Definitely.

     

    7.  Sacrifice. Many, many brave and noble people laid down their lives and sacrificed a great deal so that they – and we – would be able to live in a democracy.  We only finished paying off the Americans for the Second World War in December 2006, so most people eligible to vote today have made sacrifices too.  We dishonour the efforts of many people by not voting.  Also, if we don’t exercise our democratic right to vote, we leave others to dictate policy to us and by our apathy, we impose dictatorship on ourselves.  Second World War propagandists would have probably put it like this.

    A World War II (Two, 2) style propaganda poster urging people to vote, features Adolf Hitler and a ballot box

     

     

     

    *I’m wrong.  It’s way easier to vote than it is to wash a duvet, or even to carry one of the blasted things:  You need arms like Mr Tickle.

  • 7 Reasons These Opening Lines Are Not Classics

    7 Reasons These Opening Lines Are Not Classics

     

    The Opening Line

    It is said that the following seven opening lines are some of the best written. I disagree. In fact I believe them to be vastly overrated. This is why.

    1.  “It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife.” Pride and Prejudice. Jane Austen. 1813. I think one only has to look at the case of Sir Elton John to realise that this is not a truth universally acknowledged at all. Nor is it acknowledged locally.*

    2. “It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.” 1984. George Orwell. 1949. Bollocks. I suppose the sundial was pointing to half-past twenty-seven too.

    3.  “He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish.” The Old Man And The Sea. Ernest Hemmingway. 1952. If the old man doesn’t have the sense to move to a different location after eighty-four days then I fail to see how I am going to be inspired by his intelligence for the ensuing chapters. Nor his fishing technique.

    4.  “It was love at first sight.” Catch-22. Joseph Heller. 1961. Now I am a romantic. I know this because I have Notting Hill and Love Actually on DVD, but I can’t believe in love at first sight. Lust, yes. Nausea, certainly. But not love. This wasn’t love. It was just a deep attraction to this person’s physical appearance. I assume it was a person. I didn’t get beyond the line to find out. It could have been a new toaster. But even so, it wasn’t love.

    5.  “I write this sitting in the kitchen sink.” Dodie Smith. I Capture The Castle. 1948. I suppose I should have had an idea what to expect when I read the title. This book is about a drug addict. Who owns a large sink. Not for me.

    6.  “When Mr Bilbo Baggins of Bag End announced that he would shortly be celebrating his eleventyifirst birthday with a party of special magnificence, there was much talk and excitement in Hobbiton.” The Fellowship Of The Rings. J.R.R Tolkein. 1954. How the hell did this get made into a film? In fact, how the hell did it get made into a book? For two years I have been trying to get my book published and I can guarantee you my first line makes more bloody sense than this rubbish. The next 10,000 lines maybe not, but the first line definitely.

    7.  “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” Charles Dickens. A Tale Of Two Cities. 1859. I don’t know whether Mr. Dickens is being hypocritical on purpose here or just can’t make his bloody mind up. Poxy fence sitters. I bet this was on the Liberal Democrats reading list in the pre-Nick Clegg days. It’s probably been replaced by something with a nice cover now.**

    *This is not a subtle attempt to come out. I’m not coming out. Because I don’t need to. And that’s not because I have come out in the past. I haven’t. Mainly because I don’t think like Sir Elton John.***

    **The Conservative Party’s book of choice is, Slaughterhouse-Five, while Labour’s is, The Catcher In The Rye. You can look up the first lines.

    ***So, to sum up, I’m straight.