Author: Chris5156

Avatar 2005 calling

It’s now thirteen years since I first had a phone with a camera built into it and decided that I wanted all my phone contacts to be associated with photos of that person on the phone, so when my phone rang it looked like I could see them on the phone.

Since I didn’t get pictures of anyone hanging up, I can only assume these sad, lonely ghosts of 2005 are still on the line, listening to an engaged signal, patiently waiting to talk to me.

I will not answer you, ghosts of the past. Stop calling me.

Avatar A smidge of Smidge

It’s been a few years, but Smidge Manly hasn’t been wasting his time. No, since he finished answering all your questions about railways, he’s been turning his attention to the wider world, and very soon he’ll be ready to explain some of its greatest mysteries to you, his adoring public.

His new series, Smidge on Science, is in post-production right now. In it, he’ll be exploring the four key subjects in the world of science: wind, rain, time and cars.

To whet your appetite, and to remind you again of Smidge’s keen journalistic insight and forensic questioning style, here’s an informative and valuable interview he conducted that didn’t make it into the finished series.

Avatar I’m better at someone else’s job than they are

I don’t say things like that lightly. I don’t walk around, smugly declaring myself better at other people’s jobs. Most of the time I trust that if someone has a job they got it because they can do it.

But I make an exception for the people who write adverts for the tube. Most adverts on the tube are in the form of a jokey tube map. In the winter, every other advert is for cold medicine or cough syrup or something similar, and every single one for years and years has been in the form of a tube map-style line diagram with stops labelled “sniffly nose”, “tickly cough” and “aches and pains”. There’s no imagination. If you’re advertising on the tube apparently the only advert any advertising executive can come up with is a tube map.

All these adverts are crap, but I have now definitively found the worst one. It’s for one of those new companies whose whole existence is to make one kind of mattress that they claim is the best mattress in the world and which they only sell online. I don’t know how this is suddenly such an exciting business model but there’s a lot of them doing it. Anyway, here’s their crap, predictable tube advert.

Oh, look! It’s a fake tube line diagram. This one has tube station names on it, altered to make puns on words to do with sleep. I can live with that – in the same way I live with all the other crap adverts like this one, living with it while silently hating and resenting everything about it. What I can’t live with is how bad the puns are.

“Snoredon” is the worst. That’s the one that got me worked up. I’ve lived in London for 11 years, lived in all parts of it, done the Tube Challenge where you go to every station in a single day, and it still took me several minutes to figure out what that was a reference to.

Eventually I got it when I said it out loud. Morden, the southern terminus of the Northern Line. Morden, which ends “en”, not “on”. Morden, which is at the furthest extremity of the one line that goes a significant distance into South London, used in an advert on a transport network that exists almost entirely in North London and will be seen almost exclusively by people who will not be familiar with Morden at all. If you want a pun on “snore” using a tube station name, go for “Moorgate”. A tube station in Central London on four different lines that far more people will have heard of. A tube station with a distinctive ending that makes it easier to guess what the pun’s about. “Snoregate”. There you go, Casper. I did a better job than your advertising copywriters and I did it in about a minute.

I don’t mind that I can come up with a better crap joke than they can. What irritates me is that someone pitched that advert idea – the one that’s been used a thousand times before and which can be seen in multiple adverts for all sorts of products in every tube carriage already – they pitched it like it was their own brilliant original idea, and they got told it was a good idea, and they got paid for it. And then someone sat down and came up with four of the most half-baked, half-arsed puns on tube station names – so bad that at least one of them is obscure to the point of not working at all when a moment’s thought is all it takes to find a better one – and they put their pen down because they thought they were good enough. And then someone else agreed, and they paid money for it. People got paid for being this bad at their job.

That’s why it bothers me. Because I know I could do bedder. I just need snore of a chance.

Avatar The price of Ian’s face

What is Ian’s face worth to you? I wonder if you can even put a figure on it.

I can. Today I learned the exact monetary value of Ian’s face when I went to my local sorting office to collect a mysterious item. It turned out it was a letter sent by Ian’s attorney at law, Nicholas Wolfwood, explaining that he was not going to remove his face and send it to me. He hoped that three signed photocopies of Ian’s face, enclosed with the letter, would do instead.

Unfortunately, Ian’s attorney at law, Nicholas Wolfwood, is a cheapskate who had cut a stamp off another envelope and sellotaped it onto this one so that he didn’t have to actually pay for the postage. The Royal Mail is wise to these tricks, which is why they didn’t push it through my letterbox, and instead they put a yellow sticker on it that said NO POSTAGE PAID and I found a grey card telling me to go get it. When I presented myself at the sorting office, I had to pay £2 – that’s two London pounds – to get hold of it.

Whether or not you think I got value for money out of my two hard earned pounds is a matter of opinion. Whether you think Mr. Wolfwood should have coughed up at least 55p for a second class stamp rather than have me pay nearly four times that for the privilege of receiving his letter is up to you. But one thing is for sure. I now know with some certainty that the value of Ian’s face is about 66p, because I got three of them for two quid.

Avatar Ruislip Man

I think I’m on to something big here, but I want to know if you think it’s marketable *finger window*.

I moved to Ruislip back in August and immediately noticed that this large and important suburb was entirely missing its own superhero. I have decided it is my civic duty to fill this clear gap. I am, therefore, going to transform myself into… Ruislip Man.

Here’s my first publicity photo. I think you’ll agree it’s pretty heroic.

Hopefully, once I’ve saved a few old ladies trying to cross the street and rescued a few cats from trees, Ruislip Man will be a household name, paving the way for a lucrative range of spin-off toys, stationery and action figures.

Incidentally, I’m now recruiting for a sidekick. Let me know if you’d like to apply and what your suitably suburban superhero name would be.

Avatar How to name a company

You will probably remember that, some years ago now, Ian and myself decided that the best way to name a company was to use the name of the person followed by the thing their company did. That way, everyone knew where they stood and there could be no uncertainty. “Peter’s Window Cleaning” is a good company name. “Lucy’s Cafe” is another.

You can see the problem of badly named companies everywhere. “Boots”, for example, is a bad company name because it’s actually a chemist and doesn’t sell any kind of footwear. Having been founded by a man called John Boot, its name should obviously be “John’s Medicines”.

I bring this up because I would like to share with you the worst company name in the world. It’s a hair salon I pass every day on the way to the station. It’s called “www.comb”.

I find it hard to understand how anyone thought this was a good idea. “www.comb” sounds stupid when you try to say it out loud. It’s not actually the web address for the company (that’s www.comb.org.uk, itself pretty misguided because “.org.uk” is meant for non-profit organisations, but whatever). The name is, however, specifically designed to look like a web address, so for some reason the company has deliberately been given a name that is formatted as a web address but which isn’t the web address of the company. The only way you can use the company’s services is by physically going into a shop, and there is no sense in which this is an online company, so having the abbreviation for “world wide web” in its name is meaningless. And of course if you go into a hair salon, you would hope that using a comb is not the pinnacle of their skills. You’d hope they’re good at scissors, and hairdryers, and styling tongs, and that sort of thing. Being good at combs shouldn’t be their big sell.

Let’s be clear: the name of this business should probably be “Helen and Lisa’s Hair Salon”. Choosing a different name would be sub-optimal but acceptable. Choosing the name “www.comb”, though,  is madness and must be stopped.

Avatar New: the Keep Kev Ill campaign

Since Kev came down with a mystery illness – possibly conjunctivitis, possibly eye flu, possibly his brain leaking out of his face, we don’t know – he has been present here on The Beans much more regularly than usual. That’s had the unusual effect of making the “comments” section of recent blog posts, normally reserved for a conversation between me and Ian, to have a third voice.

I for one have enjoyed his increased presence, and having the number of comments he normally posts in a year or so all appear within one week has been a welcome change.

The question now is: how do we lock in these benefits, so that this magnificent period doesn’t come to a terrible and disappointing end when he goes back to work?

My solution is the Keep Kev Ill campaign. The aim of this campaign is simple: to supply Kev with an ongoing supply of debilitating but not life-threatening illnesses so that he remains at home, off sick from work, where he can continue contributing to the Beans. Who knows, after a couple of months he might even write a blog post.

I have started this important initiative by getting some people at work who have a cold to cough into an envelope, which I have posted to his home address. Please join me in sending more low-level biohazardous material to Micklefield, for the benefit of everyone who visits The Beans. Thank you.