- by Owen Morton
Those who read the previous article will recall my mentioning that when at work I keep a close look-out for candidates for what may the most boring book of all time. Working in the Business Library does provide me with many examples of this genre, but when I am set to work sorting through stock which has been withdrawn for resale, I come across more than even I could reasonably expect. I suppose the reason for this is that books that have been withdrawn are withdrawn because they are too dull even for the Business Library.
Well, to cut a long story short, two days ago, I was set to work doing this very task. And thus it was that one of the books I picked up was ‘Ice Cream Technology – Its Use And Abuse’, by David Walker of the Shropshire County Council. I glanced at it briefly, noted that it was rather thin and decided to charge 10 pence for it, then noticed the title. I instantly knew that I was on to a winner. This was duller even than ‘Engine Sheds of the West Midlands’ which I believe I mentioned last time I wrote an article.
Of course, I took the book on a little tour round the office, getting a laugh out of each staff member when they saw it. I then took it back to my desk (which isn’t actually mine, but I’ve adopted it for the summer) where I intended to just pack it away in the box with the other books for sale, and that would be that.
But the more I thought about it, the more it occurred to me that this would be a frightful waste of resources. Besides the opportunity to read the most boring book ever, I discovered that I – and at least one other member of staff, who would probably prefer not to be named – was actually interested in knowing quite how ice cream technology could be abused. So I paid the 10 pence which I had decided to charge for the book, and put it in my bag, intending to take it home and find out.
I got it home and spent a fairly boring Friday night reading it. Well, I say ‘reading’ it, but it was more akin to skimming it. And even this was too boring for words. I mean, you cannot possibly read a book which contains sentences like,
“Indeed, the extent to which economic pressure on manufacturers has contributed to a debasement in quality standards can perhaps be gauged by the countless verbal representations made personally to this effect by manufacturers in recent years, and the publicly recorded views of manufacturers in section as diverse as snack foods, fish, frozen confectionery, bacon and pizzas.”
without going to sleep instantly. I skimmed about 20 pages of this tome’s 68, but by the end of that time period I had formed only one real conclusion: this book was indeed the most boring I have ever encountered! To prove this point, I seem to recall that it had never been taken out by anyone, ever, and considering the deeply boring books the denizens of the Business Library seem to be perfectly happy to take out – nay, are even interested in reading! – this must be saying something.
Since I freely admit I haven’t read the book properly, I’m perhaps not the most qualified person to write a review of it. That task would probably be best left to a writer on the staff of a magazine like ‘Ice Cream Technology Monthly’. But from what I have glanced at, I think I have a fairly accurate picture of it, and in my review, there will be an added advantage in that it won’t be biased due to having been written by someone who has an ice cream technology fetish, as anyone on the staff of such a magazine would surely have. (It will, of course, be biased due to having been written by someone who simply can’t see the point in the book at all, but that’s another matter, and will in all likelihood increase the review’s appeal to sane people.)
At any rate, the one impression I gained from this book – besides the fact that it’s mind-numbingly unexciting – is that nowhere does it actually mention what the abuse of ice cream technology might be. I can’t say this for absolute certain, of course, because as I have repeatedly pointed out, I haven’t read it properly. But having flipped through it, I can’t find anything which might be interpreted as abuse – apart from the suggestion that it’s going up in price (but that’s inflation for you, duckies) and also the implication that it’s being increasingly run by large corporations, which, although it isn't necessarily desirable, isn’t actually abuse, if you ask me, though the author seems to think it is. I even checked the ‘Contents’ page in an attempt to find the relevant chapter. At first glance, the chapter in question would appear to be Chapter 9: ‘Enhanced Air Contents – The Technology And The Abuses’, but having examined this chapter, it seems that the main complaint the author has is that manufacturers are including more and more air in their ice cream, which brings their costs down. This sounds bad at first, but then – as far as I can make out – he goes on to add that this makes the ice cream creamier, which, if you ask me, makes it nicer, so where the problem lies, I don’t really know.
And that’s all I’m inclined to write about this subject. I think I’ve panned it out already for longer than I should have. But I think I should mention go off on a slight tangent at this juncture, and relate a little train of thought that me and my father and sister engaged in last July. I mention it now because of the words ‘use’ and ‘abuse’ in such close proximity.
You know those signs next to the emergency stop handle on trains which say ‘Penalty for improper use, £50’? Well, it occurred to us that this is likely to mean you will be fined £50 for pulling the emergency stop handle when there is no emergency – in other words, using it for the right thing at the wrong time. However, if you think about it, ‘improper use’ would seem to mean using the handle for the wrong thing at the right time, because it implies that you are using it, just incorrectly. To clarify, if you used the emergency stop handle as a toothpick when there was an emergency, that would be improper use.
Well, in that case, you cry, what should these signs say if they are not supposed to say ‘improper use’? Well, let’s think about this. ‘Proper use’ is obviously using the handle for the right thing at the right time. ‘Improper use’ is using it for the wrong thing at the right time. What alternatives are we left with? The word that instantly springs to mind is ‘abuse’. If we can work this into the definitions, there is an obvious way of saying what the rail company means. Therefore, ‘improper abuse’ would be using the handle for the wrong thing at the wrong time – in other words, as a toothpick when there was no emergency. This is also no use to the rail company, since the circumstances in which someone might exercise ‘improper use’ or ‘improper abuse’ are probably rather rare.
‘Proper abuse’, on the other hand, is somewhat different. ‘Proper abuse’ is the use of the handle for the right thing at the wrong time, which is what the rail company presumably has the most trouble with.
Therefore, I think we should all send some letters to British Rail calling for the replacement of the phrase ‘improper use’ with ‘proper abuse’ on all these signs. It would make a lot of difference, I assure you! And remember, when you think about what I’ve just said, the most frightening thing is that it does actually make sense.