Tag: uk

7 Reasons To Go Out Into The Wind

If you’re in Britain at all which, in 7 Reasons terms, is statistically likely, you can’t have failed to notice that it’s extraordinarily, astonishingly, epically windy outside at the moment. But the wind isn’t a bad thing. In fact, going out into the wind could well be the best thing for you. Here are seven reasons why.

I shall probably have nightmares featuring this image.

1. You’ll Have More Time. Have you any idea how much of your life is spent drying your hair? Absolutely loads. You’d probably find it amounts to years, if you were to spend even more time adding it all up. But you can save all that time. If you go outside into the wind, you’ll have drier hair. You hair will not only dry quickly, but it’s so windy out there that it will possibly remain dry forever. It’ll be drier than a salty desert; drier than a dry martini that has evaporated in the sun; drier than a Mormon in a towel; drier than fire (though hopefully not the same colour). If you go outside right now, you’ll never, ever need to dry your hair again. That’s like being given the gift of time.

2. You’ll Be More Beautiful. Competing cosmetics brands spend billions of pounds, dollars, euros, ringgits, zlotys and yen trying to convince us their product is the best for us. One of the things that they all agree on though, is that exfoliating is the key to naturally beautiful skin. If you go out into the wind right now, you’ll find that exfoliation is free. You’ll find that the wind is so strong that layers of dead skin are blown clean away from your face, leaving you both ruddy and beautiful. You’ll be ruddy beautiful. You might find that so many layers of skin are blown away that you’re left with your original baby-skin which, as we all know, is the softest, most lovely thing in the world outside of a gin distillery. And it’s free.

3. You’ll Be Sexier. What’s the universally acknowledged sexiest moment in film? No, it’s not the scene where Meg Ryan gets excited about sandwiches (unless you’re a weirdo, a pervert or are very hungry), it’s the scene from the The Seven Year Itch where, gently wafted by a breeze emanating from a subway grate, Marilyn Monroe’s dress billows upward revealing something hitherto unimagined by unsuspecting filmgoers. Women have legs! This is the universally acknowledged most sensual moment in the history of cinema. Similarly, if you go out into the wind in a dress you’ll find that it will billow, ripple and balloon too. The wind’s so strong at the moment that it’ll probably blow clean over your head. Just by doing the maths you can tell that an incident that reveals that much more flesh and structural garments will make you many times sexier than Marilyn Monroe in the sexiest cinema moment ever. You’ll be the sexiest woman in the world, even if you’re a man. If you want to be sexy, you need the wind.

4. You’ll Be Healthier. What’s the key to health? Exercise. Want exercise? Go outside right now. I went out into the garden earlier and soon found myself vaulting over a wall and giving chase to a garden ornament belonging to my son that had been suddenly taken by the wind and was skittering down the street. After a sprinting for many, many yards past several startled neighbours and a wild-eyed dog I caught up with it and trapped it with my foot. As I returned to my garden with the turquoise windmill spinning wildly in my hand I knew I was fitter for the unexpected exercise. I looked like an idiot, but you can’t have everything.

5. You’ll Be Wealthier. There are untold riches just waiting for you out there in the wind. Want to profit from this literal windfall? Here’s how: Firstly, go out into your garden and make sure that everything you own outside in the wind is secure. Secondly, go inside and wait. When the wind stops blowing, you’ll find that you have all sorts of new treasure. You’ll have bags, you’ll have paper stuff, you’ll have new plants, you’ll probably have a dress and a turquoise windmill. You’ll have booty! Absolutely anything could turn up. It’s like a free lucky dip or a meteorological tombola. A windswept sweepstake. A gale lottery. Weather bingo!

6. You’ll Be Wiser. Remember the Aesop fable about the sun and the wind having a bet to see if they could make a man remove his cloak and the wind failing abjectly at this task? No? Go outside with a cloak on then and see if you want to take it off. That’s practical learning. Plus you might be able to use it to fly.

7. You’ll Feel Better. What do Scandinavian types do to cheer themselves up when their favourite elk dies or they find that their new wardrobe has one bolt missing and the instructions have apparently been translated into gibberish? They get into the sauna and beat themselves with twigs and leaves. No one knows why they do this*, but they claim that it makes them feel good. So imagine how great you’ll feel when you go outside and stand next to a tree. At the moment, you’ll be beaten black and blue by all manner of twigs and leaves swirling round in the air at improbable speeds. You’ll be battered into happiness, buffeted into joy, knocked about into light-heartedness and marmalised into merriment. You’ll feel better than you ever have in your life. Go outside right now, it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever done! Oh, and can you pick up something for my dinner while you’re out there? I’m staying in.

*Okay, someone probably does.

September 12, 2011
7 Reasons Not To Have A Conversation With Someone You Think You Know, But Don’t

I have half-an-hour to go before my meeting so I take cover just outside Liverpool Street Station. I’m not alone. Despite the rain we’re a hearty brollyless bunch. A man quips about it being a good job the Evening Standard is now free. We laugh. Probably for a bit too long. A woman decides she’d prefer to get wet. The space she leaves is immediately filled by a man. A man about my age. A man who I end up performing a double-take toward. “I know him!” I think to myself, “That’s.. erm.. that’s Tom!”

1. Introduction. I move towards Tom. He hasn’t seen me yet. I wonder if I should jab him in the ribs or tickle him, then I decide probably not. We hadn’t seen each other for years and even when we did frequent The Mitre in Fulham our relationship never reached rib-jabbing levels. Instead I manoeuvre into his vision and say, “Hello!”

“Hi,” he says back, a little less excitedly than I had hoped.

“Been a while, huh?” I say, lifting my eyebrows in the process as if to add weight to my observational skills.

“Urm, yeah,” he replies, adding lack of interest to his already unexcitable bearing.

2. Awkward Situation One. I get the feeling that Tom doesn’t really want to talk to me. Maybe he has an interview. Maybe he still reckons I owe him for a pint. I rack my brains. I was always good at paying for my round. In fact, I think Tom owes me. I can’t be sure so I decide to let it go. And anyway, I have more pressing matters. Like working out what to do now. It would look weird if I just walked away wouldn’t it? I decide to try and bring him out of his shell.

3. Small Talk. “You still living in the place?” I ask.

“Er.. yeah.”

“Still with Harriet?”

“Who?”

“Harriet? You still with her?”

“I don’t know anyone called Harriet,” he replies. And for the first time he looks directly at me. I freeze.

4. Awkward Situation Two. This isn’t Tom! I don’t know this bloke at all! He doesn’t even look anything like Tom now. What the hell must he be thinking? What the hell am I going to do now? Do I just apologise and move back to my spot? Do I leg it?

5. Weirdness. Then something really odd happens. He doesn’t make his excuses and walk away. He doesn’t just completely ignore me. He doesn’t ask me who I am. Instead he asks me a question. A question I have to ask him to repeat. Twice.

“Do you mean Hannah?”

Do I mean Hannah? Do I? I don’t know. I mean, I do know. I know I don’t mean Hannah. I know I mean Harriet. But this looks like an escape route. A small ray of light down a dark tunnel. I decide to take it.

“Hannah! Yes, not Harriet, I mean Hannah! How is she?”

6. Awkward Situation Three. “Ah, didn’t you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“She died.”

Oh. Bloody hell.

7. Goodbye. If you’ve never been in the situation where you’ve introduced yourself to a stranger only to be told that the stranger’s girlfriend is now dead, I urge you to avoid it. It is quite frankly the worst situation I have ever found myself in. And that includes my next-door neighbour’s garden when I was nine. It took me well over a decade before I was able to look at naked women again. (Mind you that wasn’t down to a lack of effort on my part). I didn’t quite know what to say. I think I just stared at Tom opened mouthed. I couldn’t quite believe it. I suspect we were only stood there for a few seconds not saying anything, but it could have been ten minutes. It’s all something of a blur. I could not quite believe how I had managed to find myself in this situation.

“Anyway,” began ‘Tom’, “I’m going to be late. Sorry just to burden you with that news. Give me a call. We’ll go for a beer.”

He held out his hand. I shook it.

“Yeah, that would be good,” I said, as he began to walk away. “Take care.”

And with that he was gone. I couldn’t call him. I couldn’t go for a beer with him. I didn’t have his number. I had no idea who he was. All I knew is he was a bloke who had once lost someone called Hannah. I headed off towards my meeting feeling a profound sense of sadness. It started raining harder. I held my Evening Standard above my head.

September 9, 2011
7 Reasons That It’s Not As Bad As You Think

Okay! This is a humour site and my country’s been on fire for the last couple of days, so there’s only really one thing that I can write about today, so let’s be funny about the riots. Except, no. That isn’t really going to work, is it? There are people out there losing their homes and livelihoods as a result of them and I’m sure we all have friends and family that are affected, so writing a lot of nonsense about how good the coverage of the riots will look on a brand new (and free) HD television, or how phoning 999 to report themselves will be so much easier now that everyone with a hooded top has an iPhone would seem trite and foolish. Fortunately, though, while events may have saddened me and affected my sense of humour, they haven’t affected my spirit, my love of humanity and my wonderment at peoples’ innate capacity for good and their astonishing ingenuity. Accordingly, here are seven reasons that it’s not as bad as you think.

1. Innovative Brilliance. “Necessity is the mother of invention” said Plato (in Greek, probably) and our brave and hard-working police force need tea. These lovely people have taken the time out to make them some. They’ve also devised the absolute best way to use a riot shield. Is there an image that captures Britain’s spirit better than this?

2. Collective Brilliance. The riots have demonstrated the country’s capacity for collective brilliance. Many, many people decided that they weren’t going to let their (our) streets be wrecked by the mindless idiocy of a few. The Twitter account @riotcleanup was set up and it now has almost 80,000 followers. That’s more people than have been involved in rioting and looting. People have got together in overwhelming numbers for the power of good. This picture by @lawcol888 is wonderfully uplifting.

3. Individual Brilliance. Oscar Levant said that there was “a fine line between genius and insanity” and, from that very line, this woman bravely berates rioters and looters. That there are people in this country courageous and brilliant enough to stand up to a mob so eloquently is wonderful.

4. Expectation-Altering-Brilliance. Stan Collymore (What? Wait, he’s gone mad. He’s been lauding examples of brilliance and now he’s writing about Stan Collymore!?), former Premier League footballer and someone that I have occasionally thought of as a bit of an idiot over the years tweeted this earlier:

Now, professional footballers (and former professional footballers) are often pilloried – sometimes rightly – for behaving poorly and setting a bad example to people and this was unexpected, but it was a cheering and most welcome thing to see, even if he did make me feel like a git.

5. Technological Brilliance. It’s been a while since Britain has seen rioting on this scale and there’ve been a lot of technological advances in the meantime, so it’s fair to say that any online response to it was going to be breaking new ground. The innovative use of social media as a response to events has been staggering. Almost as soon as disturbances began in Birmingham yesterday, the rather brilliant @caseyrain set up a Birmingham Riots Tumblr account to document events in the second city while the attention of the national media was focussed on London. There have been many, many other wonderful examples of innovative use of social media, with Facebook groups (,http://www.facebook.com/londoncleanup), Tumblr accounts (http://catchalooter.tumblr.com/) and websites (http://www.londonrioters.co.uk/identify/) used to promote various causes and to mobilise people into various types of action. That people have used the internet and social media so effectively to mobilize themselves into making our streets better and catching the looters is both marvellous and demonstrative of a laudable degree of collective will and creativity. Oh, and the looters are helping by using Facebook too.

6. Just Utter Brilliance. Don’t want the rioting and looting to ruin your evening? Simple. Just pretend it isn’t happening. “Riot, what riot? I say, could you pass the port, my good man?”

7. Historical Brilliance. The oft-cited high-water-mark of societal unity, sacrifice and collective accomplishment was the way that Britain dealt with the blitz during World War II. The blitz spirit is something that is often mentioned in articles that decry modern society to illustrate a decline in standards and unity, and many commentators on the current situation have spoken of the riots as being symptomatic of a breakdown in society. But rioting and looting are nothing new. During the blitz – that exalted time when our society is seen as having been at its strongest and most cohesive – with a war-depreciated police force and abundance of opportunity there was widespread looting and criminality too. The truth is that there has always been a sociopathic minority in our country ready to exploit any weakness (lack of police cover, evacuated streets etc) for their own personal gain, regardless of the consequences to others. That we don’t let the looting during the blitz affect the high regard in which we hold the selfless sacrifice of the majority during the second world war speaks volumes about us. History tells us that it’s possible to have a strong, dynamic and caring society despite having a minor element that riots and loots. And the way that the majority of Britain has reacted today to the events of the past few days suggests that little has changed. That is heartening.

August 9, 2011
7 Reasons That The UK Should Ban Carlsberg

1. Retaliation. Relations between the UK and Denmark have long been difficult.   From the eighth to the eleventh centuries they invaded us; in the nineteenth century we confiscated their navy, and in the twenty-first century they sent Nicklas Bendtner to lumber around our football fields and sulk like a moon-faced twelve year old girl. A giant moon-faced twelve year old girl. Now, however, they’ve gone too far. They’ve banned that quintessentially British spreadable yeast extract, Marmite from their country. The time to act is now and we need to ban something in return. We can’t ban bacon, because half of the 7 Reasons team will cry and we can’t ban Lego for exactly the same reason. The only thing left is Carlsberg.

2. Strength. The standard Carlsberg is an okay and quite drinkable lager (for a mass-manufactured one). Sadly, however, we don’t get that in the UK. We get an insipid watery thing brewed specially for us. It’s horrible and pointless. If you wanted to get drunk, you’d have to consume so much of it that your bladder would swell to the size of a small hatchback before you felt the teeniest bit light-headed. And that’s the moment that your small hatchback would probably be involved in an accident. With a boat.

3. Taste. The flavour of the UK Carlsberg lager is…well…in there somewhere. You can definitely tell that you’re drinking something that was once in the same country as some malt and some hops. Briefly. But going on an epic search to find the flavour in the beverage that you’re drinking is frustrating and pointless. And we already have a drink like it in the UK, it’s called water. It’s cheaper (unless you’re a family with a meter) and you don’t have to go out and buy it, it’s already there in your own home; in the taps. And it might already have been drunk by a celebrity like Elton John or Ryan Giggs, so it carries a greater celebrity cachet.

4. It Comes In A Green Tin. And I don’t like green tins. I just don’t. Never have, never will. I’m perfectly within my rights to dislike green tins and it’s not at all irrational. After all, we live in a country where it’s considered perfectly normal behaviour to dislike otherwise perfectly good people because of what vehicle they choose to commute in/on, what football team they support and the brand of shoe they choose to wear. So my hatred of green tins is far more rational than the cultural norm. Let’s get rid of the little green tins.

5. Because It’s Bad For You. Marmite was banned from Denmark because it contains additives: It’s unnaturally potent. But are the parks and playgrounds and municipal seating areas of Copenhagen littered with – often apparently lifeless – ruddy-faced and dishevelled men clutching half full* jars of Marmite in their limp, grimy hands? No. Those men are over in the UK, clutching cans of Carlsberg Special Brew**.    Because that too is unnaturally potent and unlike Marmite, which is good for you, it seems to be quite detrimental to the health.

6. Because They Keep The Good Stuff To Themselves. For Carlsberg make an amazing beer: a strong, rich, malty lager-beer with brilliant sharp hoppy notes. It’s called Elephant – named after one of the gates to their Copenhagen brewery – and can I get hold of it in the UK? Can I buggery. It would be easier to get hold of an actual elephant, and possibly more fun too. I could keep it in the garden and train it to stand on my next-door-neighbour’s car. If we banned Carlsberg, my frustrating and usually fruitless search for Elephant would come to an end.

7. Because Of The Adverts. Carlsberg’s advertising is brilliant. It’s high-budget, has consistently great production values and is usually very, very memorable.   But if we have to suffer every last epically dull and unoriginal bore mindlessly parroting, “Carlsberg don’t do *****(those asterisks are to suggest blankness, we’re not subject to a superinjunction)…but if they did….”, every time they see something they’re enthused by, because they believe it passes for original wit, that’s too high a price to pay for it. Let’s ban Carlsberg: We’d get revenge, lose crap beer, drink more water, rid ourselves of green tins, have healthier tramps and I’d be able to ride an elephant to the pub, where I wouldn’t be tempted to punch a dullard. You know it makes sense. Sort of.

*Or half empty, you decide.

**As manufactured by Chaka Khan.

May 25, 2011
7 Reasons Postage Stamp Errors Are Entertaining

Last week you may have read that the US Postal Service have made something of a cock-up. Instead of an image of the Statue of Liberty appearing on their postage stamp, it’s actually an image of her Las Vegas based replica. Wondering if this was a one off the 7 Reasons team decided to do some investigating. We were surprised – and entertained – to discover that it has actually happen many times before. Here are seven of our favourites:

1. White House, USA. Incredibly, this isn’t the only error the US Postal Service have made this month. In the same batch of new postage stamp designs they also managed to use an image of a White House replica in Atlanta instead of the real McCoy in Washington DC. Luckily this error was spotted before printing began, but still a red face for the guy who has the shutterstock password.

2. Christ The Redeemer, Brazil. As recently as the start of the year the Brazilian Postal Service got themselves into a lot of trouble by using an image of The Angel Of The North on their postage stamp instead of one of the statue of Jesus Christ that looks down on the city.

3. Great Wall Of China, China. In 2005 the Chinese Postal Service made the catastrophic error of using an image of a replica of the Great Wall China on their postage stamp. The replica Great Wall Of China can be found in Splendid China – a theme park in Florida. Sadly, the head of the postal service paid the ultimate penalty.

4. Eiffel Tower, France. To celebrate France’s hosting of the Football World Cup in 1998, the French Postal Service released a collection of postage stamps showing images of famous French landmarks. Unfortunately, someone forgot to tell them that the Blackpool Tower is very much in Great Britain. Printing was discontinued, but not before 10,000 had entered circulation.

5. Tikal Temple, Guatemala. The Tikal Temple which can be found in the Tikal National Park was supposed to appear on this postage stamp. Instead Mexico’s Chichen Itza turned up.

6. Big Ben, UK. As patriotic as we are, we can’t overlook this howler from our very own Royal Mail. They must have had the work experience boy in this week because 5,000 stamps depicting a straw Big Ben rolled off the printer.

7. Che Guevara, Cuba. Probably our favourite error comes from Cuba. This arty postage stamp was supposed to celebrate Che Guevara. Instead, it celebrates Tooting’s favourite son, Wolfie Smith.

April 18, 2011
7 Reasons That Question 17 is Frustrating

This is Question 17 in the Individual Questions section of the UK Census. It’s “intentionally blank” and will drive you slowly mad. Here are seven reasons why.

1.  Why Is It Intentionally Blank? What is the intention? Why? Why? Why? Why, oh why, oh why, oh why? I had to go online to find out why. Apparently it’s a question about the Welsh language. But wait, I’ve seen the Welsh language and it isn’t invisible. And if it was then the answer would be blank too, so there’d be no point in asking the question in the first place. And why would you just state that it’s been left intentionally blank? Why not just remove it? Is there some sort of nefarious purpose to it? Should we don our foil hats before completing the census? Should we be afraid? I’m afraid.

2.  It’s A Temptation.   While I was online I checked Twitter. Which is where I saw this:

Now there are some things that people should never ever see. The insides of other people; anything to do with Harry Potter and daytime television are all high up the list. But higher than that, higher than anything else, the absolute worst thing they can see is any sort of suggestion that they should draw a cock in a box on an official document. Obviously that’s what they’ll want to do right at that moment, with every fibre of their being. But they can’t because they’d have their tax raised or be sent to prison or something. And that just makes it all the more of a temptation. Essentially question 17 is a form of torture in which we are forced to wrestle our primal urge to undermine authority and officialdom by drawing a cock.

3.  It’s Not Actually Blank. It’s got words in it. I can see them, they’re right there at the top of the box telling us that it’s blank. But that’s a lie. It’s the most blatant example of officialdom fibbing to us since Jeffrey Archer had any power. It’s like a spoon that says “I am not a spoon”. It’s not exactly like a talking spoon, I grant you, but it is in the sense that it is lying. Badly.

4.  It’s Not A Question. The text above question 17 states that “This question is intentionally left blank”. But in a similar manner to the age-old philosophical question (if a butterfly beats its wings in a forest in China does a tree fall on a deaf person on the other side of the world?) question seventeen gives us food for thought. If a question isn’t a question is it still a question? When is a question not a question? What do you even call a question that isn’t a question? It’s certainly perplexing. It turns out that when a question isn’t a question it raises more questions than it does answers, but after a long, careful deliberation I can state with some certainty that: it isn’t; when it doesn’t contain a question; I don’t know; my brain hurts. But it’s definitely not a question. This further complicates matters.

5.  Numbers. After the lie about the question being left blank, they helpfully tell you to go to 18. But question 18 isn’t question 18, is it? It’s question 17. Because the blank box with a fib in it is no more a question than I am an owl or a plant-pot. This means that the entire numbering system for the remainder of the census is incorrect. Question 24 (which is actually question 23) says if you are aged 16 or over you should go to 25 (which is numbered 26). But that’s not a question at all; it’s an instruction. So question 25 is actually the 23^rd question.

6.  But Wait. No it isn’t. Because question 11 in the Individual Questions section isn’t a question either. It’s also an instruction. So question 25 is actually the 22^nd question. This means that all the numbers in the Individual Questions section are wrong from question 10 (which isn’t a question) on. I haven’t been this confused since…ever. This is even more confusing than being married to a woman. And less fun.

7.  The Bastards! And the civil servants/bureaucrats/number crunchers/census-bastards haven’t just cocked up their own census. They’ve buggered up the title of this post, which is now incorrect. There are still seven reasons here (which is an improvement on Monday when I spent an hour trying to come up with a seventh reason only to discover that it was, in fact, the eighth and had to remove one) but this isn’t 7 Reasons That Question 17 is Frustrating any more. It’s 7 Reasons That Question 17 Which Is Not A Question At All And Even If It Were It Would Be Number 16 But It’s Not And Furthermore It’s A Liar Is Frustrating. I’ve read books shorter than that title. I won’t even be able to fit it on Twitter. Does our reader even have a screen that wide? Right, census-mongers! I’m drawing a cock in your blank box right now and I’m posting it back to you tomorrow. On fire.

March 9, 2011
7 Reasons To Love The Statesman!

Apart from waking up to the news that it is both International Women’s Day and Pancake Day, you may have also heard that 28,000 Police jobs are – in all likelihood – going to be cut. If your reaction to this news is one of fear, you need not worry. A new crime fighting force is out there. The UK’s answer to Kick-Ass is a real-life superhero. Let me introduce you to… The Statesman!

This powerhouse of a man is out there, right now – in Birmingham – protecting us. Protecting us all. Do we need 7 Reasons to love him? Of course we don’t. Are we going to give you 7 Reasons anyway? Well, obviously. Here they are:

1. Costume. The last person to try and spread a little love by wearing a Union Jack outfit was Geri Halliwell. The Statesman, though, has the eye mask to go with it. Which in my opinion makes all the difference. Everyone likes a superhero who can effectively combine fierce loyalty to his country with a bit of camp mystery.

2. Utility Belt. Savlon? Check. Plasters? Check. Maglite? Check. Swiss Army Knife from that Christmas cracker? Check. Let’s be honest, Superman was great, but he never took a strip of Elastoplast with him. The Statesman does. And a tube of Berocca to help the inebriated among us.

3. Moustache. The last time I saw something like this it was Movember 2009 and I was looking in the mirror. I scared people that month. Which only leads me to believe that The Statesman must scare baddies 24/7/365. Awesome man, just awesome!

4. Persuasive. Until the identity of The Statesman was splashed all over The Sun, his girlfriend thought he was off playing poker every night. Whether she ever questioned his choice of attire is, at present, unknown, but I suspect she did. I can only conclude therefore that The Statesman is a very persuasive chap. And let’s be clear about this, when you are faced with two bad men, each with a crowbar, the best way of unarming them is the mighty skill of persuasion.

5. Allies. That’s right, he has friends. Possibly in high places. Possibly in phone boxes. Possibly in the back of the Satesmobile. It doesn’t really matter where they are, the fact is they are out there. Fighting. Fighting for us. So go out, wear your bling, leave your car doors open, nothing bad will ever happen.

6. Weapons. There’s no gun, taser or baton sticking out of The Statesman’s trousers. He is unarmed. Well, except for his quick wit and boxing mitts. Given that gangs have ready access to a variety of kitchen utensil you have to applaud The Statesman’s ‘no violence’ approach. If only wars were fought in such a way.

7. Heart. Many superheroes are pre-occupied with fighting, not The Statesman though. If there is no crime to be fought, he’ll happily help the drunk across the road or give a blanket to a homeless person. A clever villain would probably try and use such a scenario as a diversion tactic, but I just have a sneaking suspicion that The Statesman will be ready for such an eventuality. He’s a superhero after all.

March 8, 2011
7 Reasons This Is Clearly Not A UFO

In the past two weeks Friday has been dedicated to writing about the Cricket World Cup. However, because we wrote about it yesterday – or at least about a dream – we are giving it a miss today. While many of our readers will be disappointed to read this, I ask you to think of our dedicated Polish reader who has no doubt been quite confused as of late. So, instead of cricket, we are going to write about UFOs. A subject that will be close to many people’s hearts if they read last Saturday’s guest post. You may well have heard that yesterday the MOD released 8,500 pages of previously classified information surrounding UFO sightings. Having stayed up all night to read through them I can safely say that some people in this country are officially bonkers. One depiction of a UFO that particularly caught my attention was this one:

Here are seven reasons that this is not a UFO (and instead probably an entry to some Blue Peter competition) :

1. Label. The first giveaway is the label ‘normal corn crop’. May I ask, what other kind is there? An un-normal corn crop? A typical example of someone thinking too much. #Fail

2. Arrows. Let’s be honest, we don’t really need arrows to tell us which way up this should go? #Fail

3. Saucer. In some respects this is the biggest giveaway. As a rule, if you are drawing a picture of a flying saucer, the last thing you should do is draw around a normal saucer. And that is exactly what this person has done. They’ve got a saucer, turned it upside down and with a pencil drawn around it. #Fail

4. Design Features (i). Whenever you are making something up, you’ll generally take something you have seen or heard before and edit it slightly for your purpose. Now, I have never watched South Park, and I am suspecting the person who drew this hadn’t either. Somewhere along the line though we will have seen the character, Kenny. Which is why the weird looking yellow things on the top half of theUFO look just like him. Here’s the proof.

5. Design Features (ii). If in doubt, add a few windows. #Fail.

6. Design Flaws. The electric fans (possibly doubling up as propellers) on the side of the craft are different sizes. If you look closely you can see that the one on the right is slightly bigger than the one on the left. As a result, if this thing took off – an absurd thought I admit, it would start going round in circles. So not only would it not go anywhere, the alien inside would get dizzy. #Fail

7. Huh? I have absolutely no idea what this is supposed to be. The Sun? Mars? A tennis ball? An alien? Another UFO?

March 4, 2011
7 Reasons Robert George Dylan Willis MBE Scares Me

Last week we gave you seven compelling reasons not to watch the Cricket World Cup. How many of you listened to us? Probably not many. And I don’t blame you. I mean, I didn’t even listen to myself. I’ve watched every game so far. But that’s not because I am addicted to the sport, it’s because it constitutes research. It was suggested by Marc that we could write about the Cricket World Cup every Friday. It wasn’t a bad idea – every time we write about cricket we send shockwaves through India. So I agreed. Apart from the dodgy fielding, the one-sided nature of the games and the sparse crowds, the one constant has been former England paceman, Bob Willis. For seven days now he has been sat on the red sofa at Sky Sports scaring the hell out of me. Here’s why:

Don’t Let The Smile Fool You. The Real Bob Willis Never Smiles.

1. Focus. It’s a frightening sight. When the producer whispers, ‘Camera one Mr Willis’, in Bob’s ear, the robotic state is initiated. His head turns sharply to the camera. Like a Tyrannosaurus Rex who has just spotted his prey, Bob doesn’t even…

2. Blink. His eyes are wide as he stares down the camera lens. Deep, deep, deep into your lounge goes his glare. Deep, deep, deep into your soul. And then, his lips begin to move. In his…

3. Monotone voice, his monologue begins. His ability to maintain an unwavering pitch for so long is a remarkable feat of endurance. Though for a robotic devil fairly standard I imagine. On and on he drones. No matter whether he is impressed or furious, it’s the same tone. It’s hypnotic in its powers. I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to put me to…

4. Sleep. He wants my soul. He wants to sell it on eBay. “I must stay awake,” I tell myself. “Bob Willis must not be allowed to submit a fake bid for my soul in oder to bump up the price.” My eyelids are heavy, I try and reach for the remote control but I am not not going to make it. I’m drifting! I’m drifting! Then, suddenly, a saving grace. The shot zooms out. The vision of Robert Croft and Michael Holding is momentary relief. But then I notice the…

5. Giant of a man to their right. Bob Willis is huge! He looks like the BFG sitting on that Sky Sports sofa. I know he’s a giant because his knees are higher than his coccyx. He looks comfortable in his own uncomfortableness. This only scares me more. I can’t help but imagine him standing up. His head would be on the second floor. It’s the only time I hunger for a zoomed-in shot of Bob’s face. I don’t hunger for long, the producer adheres to my cries for mercy. Round two begins. He still wants my soul. I’m immediately drawn to his…

6. Lips. Not in a sexual way. In the way I would watch a goldfish open and close his mouth. And then I actually start listening to what he is saying. And I find myself agreeing with him. Bob is right. You just can’t afford to make that kind of mistake at this level. Oh good gracious me! Bob Willis is making…

7. Sense. And this is the scariest thing of all. Already this year I have found myself agreeing with Boycott. What is happening to me? Am I becoming their bitch?

February 25, 2011
7 Reasons That Britain Should Ban Farting. Now!

Malawi is currently blazing a trail in the important field of social hygiene and public decorum. Recently, as I’m sure you’re aware, Malawi’s Justice Minister, George Chaponda, recently proffered legislation that would outlaw farting in public there. This is a brilliant proposition, and at 7 Reasons, we firmly believe that Britain should follow Malawi’s inspired lead and adopt this groundbreaking legislation as our own. Here’s why.

1. Job Creation. The world is in the grip of the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression and unemployment in the UK is rising. If we were to outlaw public flatulence, however, we would need additional police officers to enforce the new anti-guffing laws. These new officers would be paid for by funds from a central pot, entirely raised by the levying of anti-arse-methane fines which, in a country where chicken tikka massala is the most popular dish, and mushy peas and cauliflower cheese are also commonly consumed foods would surely be substantial. It would also be a more efficacious use of police resources too as, currently, since the relaxing of the minimum height requirement, short policemen and women have been burdened with the task of tackling hardened criminals who tower over them. With the new legislation, however, undersized officers would be more usefully redeployed into the anti-farting branch, where they would be far more effective at flatulence-detection than full-sized officers, who could concentrate on tackling more serious crime. The sort of stuff that occurs around head-height, rather than lower down.

2. Because It’s Disgusting. The most obvious reason to ban farting in public is that it’s disgusting. No one wants the air they breathe to be sullied by it having been filtered through the fetid innards of a grubby gentleman who has seems to have been dining on Fray Bentos pies and pickled eggs for the previous – constipated – week, and with the farting ban, we won’t have to. This fat man can be summarily hauled away by the diddy-police to the fug house rather than being allowed to continue his journey between Kings Cross and York, which is where I encountered him six months ago.*

3. Inequality. Never mind the disputed existence of a glass ceiling in the UK’s wage structure or of gender disparity and ageism in broadcasting, the definitive and most obvious form of sexual inequality in the UK today is apparent in public flatulence. After all, if a man strikes-up an impromptu butt-trombone solo in public it’s seen as ill-mannered, though somewhat comical and not entirely unacceptable. If women break wind in public, however (even pregnant ones, for whom bowel control is more difficult than anyone) it is not seen as remotely acceptable. When a woman lets rip in a public place, monocles pop out of gentlemens’ faces, other ladies gasp and faint, children gape open-mouthed (unwisely) and point: “That lady blew off!” they gasp in astonishment as their parents simultaneously attempt to hush them and shuffle them away from the foul and wretched harridan with the trumping problem. If we ban farting in public, we’ll all have to hold it in and we’ll put an end to this heinous and iniquitous societal inconsistency.

4. Male Grooming. The overall appearance of the British male will be greatly improved as a result of the ban on flatulence. After all, when forced to hold it in while in public environs, he will have to resort – like his countrywomen – to more frequent visits to the bathroom to relax and unwind**. He won’t team up with someone else to visit the bathroom because that’s just weird. But he will see mirrors that much more often and will consequently adjust his hair more, notice dry patches, take note of errant eyebrows and, as he’ll be exposed to more bathrooms than before, he’ll see how the colour of his clothing works in conjunction with a wider variety of hues. The nation will smell better and look better.

5. Control. It’s not just that the entire population of Britain will have to control themselves better (sort of a rectal version of the stiff upper lip that made Britain great), we’ll lessen the occurrence of truly abhorrent instances brought about by a disastrous happenstance involving flatulence and intoxication. Because I was in a busy – and quite respectable – pub once with a group of friends when a man at the next table, who had been imbibing copiously and was now somewhat inebriated, misjudged his attempt at a flatulent emission. Within half a minute or so it became apparent to the entire pub (except, bizarrely, the man himself and the people at his table) what had occurred and, within a minute many people (including myself) were dry-heaving and within two, most of us were on our way to another pub, tears streaming from our eyes. If flatulence were illegal, this sort of thing wouldn’t happen. That was eight years ago, and I haven’t been back to that pub since. This means that premises that clearly enforce the ban will benefit too, so it’ll further benefit the economy by rewarding well-run businesses.

6. Television. Britain and its society was built on snobbery and the class divide and, with this in mind, the ban on flatulence will be a perfect addition to the nation’s laws. Now, having seemingly exhausted the Drunken UK Seaside Towns Shellsuited Fighting genre, ITVs 4,5,6,7,8 and 9 and Sky: Whatever will be able to unleash a new wave of prurient “reality” programmes focussing on what common people get up to while the rest of us are safely at home cleaning our Agas and polishing our brogues. We won’t have to watch grainy CCTV footage of men in short sleeved shirts and shoes that resemble Cornish pasties – or orange women wearing earrings larger than their frocks – fighting at 3am in Blackpool on our televisions any more. We’ll be able to watch them farting. This will reinvigorate a whole tired television genre while retaining its appeal to our own innate snobbery, so the ban will have the effect of enriching the cultural life of the nation while dovetailing perfectly with the national characteristic of sneering at the hoi-polloi.

7. Anarchy. Another of the cornerstones of the British character is that we’re taught that laws are for the obeyance of fools and the guidance of wise men. It’s in our heritage to subvert authority and express our individualism by flagrantly flouting the law. So some people will rail against state oppression by freely indulging their bodily urges as a means of protest. These anarchists will fart for freedom; they’ll be freedom farters, gallantly and nobly resisting government by liberally cutting the cheese whenever the fancy takes them. We might not all approve of their actions, but it’ll be a hell of a lot safer than petrol-bombing buildings or throwing bricks at police-horses. And the “Fart For Freedom” posters will be hilarious. In fact, this movement will probably be called the FFF and will doubtless become noted for being insubstantial and puffed up with hot air.*** But don’t worry, they’ll be quite harmless.

*I NEVER forget.

**I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of that.

***FFF

February 8, 2011