Scientists at the University of Canvey Island (UCI) say that their research proves that the largest influence on the decline of the nation’s health is the humble TV Remote Control.
Bent Pinkie, Emeritus Professor in Social Anthropology at UCI (University of Canvey Island) makes this claim following research sponsored by Durexcell and The Milk Marketing Board.
“This was a difficult project to undertake, given the incompatibility of the sponsors – Durexcell claim that their batteries require fewer changes to the Remote Control than ordinary batteries whereas the introduction of any milk products seemed to reduce the effectiveness of the remote quite substantially.”
“Our usual subject for any kind of health research would be the common mouse, but in this investigation they were quite useless. You see mice rarely need to use the TV Remote Control. They usually just find the Cartoon Channel and watch Tom and Jerry twenty-four seven.”
Professor Pinkie explained how they overcame this first hurdle.
“We at the University of Canvey Island (UCI) used audience figures supplied by Nielsen Media Research and discovered that our optimum research subject would be someone who watched Jeremy Kyle in the morning, Tipping Point in the afternoon and Emmerdale in the evening. Our next problem was to discover enough amongst this demographic capable of completing our questionnaire, particularly those who were concerned that the Health Questionnaire might, in some way, affect the level of benefits they were receiving. Reassuring them that this was not a Benefit Office sting proved very time consuming.”
Bent Pinkie at this stage hands the story over to his colleague, Professor Poppy Pepper but not before explaining why she was ideal for this project.
“I had previously picked Professor Poppy Pepper for a previous project and she proved to be passionate and persistent in her research. Indeed,” Bent Pinkie laughed, “we nicknamed her ‘Passionate Persistent Professor Poppy Pepper’ and if I was going to pick any person it had to be ‘Passionate Persistent Professor Poppy Pepper’.”
Professor Pepper blushed at such fulsome praise before explaining the key findings.
“ UCI (University of Canvey Island) have a growing reputation for blue sky thinking, thinking outside the box, pushing the envelope. Indeed running controversial theories up the intellectual flagpole to see if anyone salutes it. My remit was to work within a very tight budget to prove some of the life-shattering ideas that had emerged from our observations.”
Professors Pinkie and Pepper split their research into a number of sections. Diabetes is the fastest-growing health threat facing the UK and the numbers of undiagnosed cases is a cause for concern for the NHS and their ability to cope in the future.
The connection between diabetes and the growth of the Remote Control is incontrovertibly linked. As the numbers of Remote Controls raised so did the increase in diabetes. But why? The answer, according to Bent Pinkie, is that, clearly the user does not have to get up every time they want to change channels and as such does not flush the blood through the bloodstream at regular intervals. In addition as the user is aware that they will not be leaving their chair that often they have now created a new habit of stocking up with lager and sweets before they settle down. Without the distraction around him the user is able to plough through their supply and over time will increase the stock and thereby their intake of alcohol and sugar.
As Poppy Pepper puts it: “Less calories consumed through less activity plus more calories consumed through more sugar intake equals diabetes.”
“Our research, sponsored by The Milk Marketing Board and Durexcell, recommends that, to reduce the health hazards attributable to high levels of alcohol and sweet consumption, Remote Control users should migrate to more dairy-based products – with fewer calories and less harmful to the liver and kidney.”
Professor Pinkie was keen to present the other element of their research, sponsored by Durexcell and The Milk Marketing Board.
“What we were expecting to find from our analysis was that by switching to an inferior quality of battery – maybe one with a life of only 28 days – would require users to become more active, at least when the batteries are running out and certainly when they are finally dead. What we found was the opposite of this. Twenty-eight days is not long enough to create a firm habit. A longer life battery – one that could last for 12 months or more – would enable Remote Control users to ignore the pressure of an imminent battery failure and concentrate on changing their lifestyle choices to more healthy and dairy-related options.”
“Our second major finding was the way in which use of the Remote Control was affecting the wellbeing of our eyes” explained Poppy Pepper. “Sitting for many hours with our eyes focused on the same distance to the TV weakens the muscles of the eyes. This means that when we need to focus at something nearer, for example when reading a book, the image is blurred or hazy. As a result people are avoiding reading, literacy levels are falling and the average size of their vocabulary is diminishing year on year.”
“Cataracts are also a by-product of Remote Control overuse. The connection is the amount of time spent in front of the bright television screen.”
Perhaps the most shocking findings from UCI (University of Canvey Island) was the deterioration in the nations hearing.
“Remote Controls change stations by emitting high pitched radio wave signals. These are indiscernible by the human ear but this constant assault on the upper register of our hearing forces our overall level of hearing to atrophy. Think of how many times when you speak to someone watching TV that you have to repeat yourself. The Remote Control Effect,” claims Bent Pinkie.
As a result of these findings UCI (University of Canvey Island) applied for more funding and were delighted to obtain sponsorship from SpecExpress. They were able to provide technical expertise to deal with the dual problems of high-level radio waves and lack of ocular exercise. The result of this was the development of a pair of spectacles which contain within the arms on the one side a jamming device to counteract the high level radiowaves and on the other a small hearing aid. The lenses resemble something akin to two pairs of venetian blinds which flip open and shut automatically.
Pinkie and Pepper explained that this has the effect of forcing the eyes to react by changing the range of focus, thereby exercising the eye muscles.
What can be done to reverse the Remote Control Effect? The boffins at the University of Canvey Island (UCI) believe that Government intervention is called for.
“Without being overdramatic,” say the worthy professors, “the health of the nation depends on this. Obesity, diabetes, eyesight and hearing problems are a costly drain on the limited resources of the NHS and the Government must act. Our solution is simplicity itself – make Remote Controls truly remote. Make them only function from a different room to the TV. To change channels users would need to get up and walk into the other room thus taking exercise, moving away from their stash of booze and grub and also giving their eyes and ears a rest from the harmful effects of the insidious Remote Control.”
We must wait and see if the Government has enough courage to act.
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An Essex Excursion
Published 15/08/2016 by davidgward
It was a bright summer’s day and so we decided to take ourselves off to the County Town for a ‘meandering mooch’. For those of you who do not know this concept (and I suspect that it will mainly be the men) let me explain it to you. There are two kinds of shoppers, and it has to be said that it generally splits on gender. There are those who have a list of items to purchase and they move directly and without distraction through the list and those who have only a vague idea of what they might want to be buying, if anything, but insist in visiting every nook and cranny for fear of missing a bargain. We will call the former shopper ‘The Exocet’ whilst the latter is ‘The Meandering Moocher’.
My personal instinct is that of ‘The Exocet’ – home in on my target, go in for the kill and get out with the minimum of collateral damage in the shape of unwanted purchases and mythical bargains.
On the other hand, my wife is definitely a moocher and today was one where I had agreed to cede to her approach rather than impose mine. On such occasions I set myself two personal objectives. The first is to maintain a broad smile on my face at all times. The second is to enjoy one of my main hobbies, that of people watching.
The smile is a valuable weapon in the locker of the reluctant meanderer. It has the benefit of tricking your brain into thinking that you are having a good time, thereby avoiding a descent into a well of despond. There can be a range of reactions from passers-by to my smiling face. With some, I can see their minds ticking over as they try to fathom out what I can possibly know that they don’t. With others, my friendly smiling face has a familiar look and they assume that I am smiling at them and so they will acknowledge it with a smile of their own or a cheery word in passing.
“You ‘at it’ too?” one offered to me darkly.
“Afraid so!” I respond, as if I fully understand what he is talking about, “it has to be done.” I share conspiratorially.
We nod knowingly to each other and move on our way.
Of course, the smile does have its risks attached to it, as happened today. Libby decided that she would try on a dress – an interesting design, being shorter at the front than the back. We disagreed over which colour would suit her best which was quite arrogant on my part as I am notorious for my lack of colour co-ordination. Anyway, having raised a doubt in her mind, I was now committed to watching and waiting while she tried on both versions of the same dress. Experience told me not to wander too far from the changing room as I would be required, at short notice, to agree with her decision about the two items.
To describe the facility as a changing ‘room’ is giving it more status than it deserved. In fact it was an alcove with two curtains stretched across it. Libby disappeared behind one curtain and I took a short meander of my own around the adjacent lingerie department as I continued my search for knowledge about the difference between the balcony bra, the under-wired, the push-up bra and the shelf bra. And what is the difference between a T-Shirt bra and, presumably, a Shirt bra?
None-the-wiser, I returned to my station outside of the changing cupboard, ensuring that my grin was fully deployed just in time to see a curtain being thrown open and a partially dressed lady, who I did not recognise, strode out looking from side to side for her consort. A man mountain, arms inked in aggressive patterns of flick knives interwoven with knuckle-dusters, came into view and looked from one to the other of us – his wife with her blouse unbuttoned and me with a smile that was morphing through a smirk and into a leer. The disgruntled spouse stepped threateningly towards me but fortunately at that moment Libby emerged from her lair in her new dress and the hiatus was broken as I rushed towards her enthusing about her look. I decided that I would pass on my true opinion on the way to the cash desk, or, indeed anywhere away from the Neanderthal whose wife, I’m pretty sure was wearing a balcony bra under her blouse.
Escaping back into the High Street, we headed towards our ‘favourite’ restaurant, McDonalds for a refreshing milk shake when my second recreational activity – people watching – came into play. Outside the golden arches eatery squatted a duffle-coated, hairy ‘free spirit’ with a rough cardboard sign which read “ex-service and homeless”. As we walked towards the entrance a customer emerged from the restaurant and handed over a basic burger and with a brief “there you go mate” he was off.
We agreed that it was heart-warming to see such an act of altruism as we passed through into the heaving counter area. We even considered adding an extra drink to our order so that we could continue this act of generosity, but decided not to. This proved to be the right decision because, on exiting Maccie D’s we noticed that our homeless ex-serviceman had departed, replacing the original sign with a card which read “gone to lunch”. What was even more baffling was that he had left behind the burger that had been given to him plus his cap which contained the ten, twenty and fifty pence pieces that had been donated by passing strangers throughout the morning. A strange couple of decisions to make for a homeless person.
We continued our perambulations around the shopping precinct and some hours later (seriously –hours later!) we returned to outside McDonalds just in time to see our old soldier pulling yet another placard from his pack, this time reading “Back in 10 Minutes” and, leaving behind his uneaten burger and his cap full of booty, he shuffled off away from the High Street.
My curiosity now had the better of me and so, sending my wife off into yet another shoe shop, I decided to follow my vagrant friend. Even with my slow walking pace, he was easy to follow, given his slouched shoulders and scuffling gait. However, after a hundred yards strange things started to happen. Firstly, my quarry appeared to be getting taller and secondly, with this transformation his shuffle was turned into a stride and the pace quickened into something like a military yomp. I was now struggling to keep pace with him but determination had fired my curiosity and I would not be left behind.
As I strode out my mind was whirring into gear trying to second guess what was going on.
Was this man a drug dealer, rushing to his next deal?
Or, maybe, an undercover drugs cop who had just received a tip off that he was chasing down?
Or perhaps he just needed the loo – and fast!
Rounding a corner the truth finally dawned on me. The ‘squaddie’ had walked up to a machine, inserted a credit card and, having punched in his information, he waited whilst the machine churned and spewed out a ticket which he withdrew from the opening and, walking over to his Bentley Continental Convertible, he popped the lock and slipped the parking ticket onto the dashboard of his sumptuous car.
I followed, open mouthed, as this imposter returned to his pitch. The closer he came to the High Street, so the chameleon changed his deportment, shoulders stooping and legs stiffening into his trademark shuffle. His head, a moment ago held high and proud, was now bowed in subservience and submission as he went back to work – conning the public out of their hard earned cash out of misplaced sympathy and gratitude for service to his country.
Affronted by this man’s deceit (but not so affronted that I wanted to challenge him face-to-face) I sidled past the conman and muttered,
“Don’t forget your burger, mate! Wouldn’t want to put crumbs in the Bentley, would you?”
My point made, I moved back into the High Street and found myself following a young lad, suited and booted and ready for work. I assessed him to be some kind of civil servant, or maybe an aspiring local government official.
A lad of similar age, wearing a tatty and grubby grey tracksuit, recognised my ‘office worker’ and rushed over to him.
“Alright, John, haven’t seen you for a while!”
The lads greeted each other with the trendy flying arm-wrestling grip and topped that off with a gentle chest bump.
“Alright, Che? What you doing?”
“Just wasting time before I go to the dole office for another review. F-ing waste of time. Still working for the Council?”
I patted myself on the back for my perception as I strode past the pair but continued to listen to their Estuary accents with Rasta lilts which merged into one voice.
“Haven’t seen you down the club lately.”
“No, had a bit of aggro so I haven’t been out much.”
“What aggro?”
“Beat up this tosser from London, didn’t I? He was getting handy with my mate’s bitch but when the bill came both him and his bird had it on their toes, didn’t they? I think she was 14 or something.”
“Wanker! So what happened?”
“Got an ASBO, or whatever they call it now. Still I’ve never had a tag before so I can tick that one off.”
“An ankle tag – you got it on now?”
“’Course”
“Let’s have a butchers, then”
If he hadn’t asked, I would have because I haven’t seen an ankle tag either. Turning around I watched as John lifted the trouser leg of his suit and proudly showed off his new jewellery.
Not for the first time in my life I had a ‘books and covers’ moment
passionforlife2016 