Fireworks. Complaining Doesn’t.


As October turns into November and the pumpkins start to decay revealing the true message of Halloween – the futility and inevitable end of human life – our thoughts move to Bonfire night.

Fireworks were first used in 7th century China during the Tang dynasty, before presumably being perfected in the Bang dynasty.

Walt Disney was a large consumer of fireworks. This weird dietary quirk earnt him the nickname “Sparkle-farts”. After his death the Walt Disney Corporation continued this tradition, deciding to shoot them off into the sky instead, but remains the largest consumer in the world.

As a child I was scared of fireworks. My theory is because I was Christened on Nov 5th I have a Pavlovian association between the bangs of the fireworks and the burning of the holy water. But it’s also because fear of fireworks is a COMPLETELY NORMAL REACTION TO EXPLOSIONS AND FIRE. Look at a dog at a firework display. Does it sit in silence and use the bright colours in the moonlit sky to ponder it’s place in the universe?


It howls and gets as far away from that shit as possible. Natural.

Women like fires that are controlled and pretty. This is why they spent over £90m on luxury candles in a single year. That’s right ‘luxury candles’, suggesting that there are still essential candles. Presumably for restaurants who like reading the menu to be a game of Russian roulette, and the booming Jack Be Nimble impersonator market.

See, men like fire, but we prefer the kind of fire that stinks to high heaven. Smoking fire. Fire for meat. If you doubt this, see the difference between how many former scout peed on a fire vs the girl guides.

Admittedly the scouts have the biological advantage of being able to arc their stream and maintain a safe distance (after all, that’s one meat we don’t want on the BBQ). But we’re also the only ones stupid enough to wonder what happens. And the answer is a stink to high heaven that stays with you forever. It’s my sincere belief that the reason men have more nose-hair is that this is the body’s natural defence to protect itself from experiencing that unholy aroma ever again.

Wherever you are, have fun this Bonfire night. But I think the closest I’ll get to setting off a firework is flicking some water on a hot hob.