# 16 Men who can cook well

In the not so distant past, a man who was a bit handy in the kitchen might have been considered sinister by some, by reason of the fact that he would “definitely” have an appetite for members of the same sex, “init”. It might be said today however, that a man who knows how to handle a pasta machine is sinister for the very opposite reason.

The tall dark and handsome chap offering your girlfriend a match for her unlit cigarette is not to be feared. Overhear a man mentioning the words, “deconstructed” or “velouté”, in her presence and worry. This is not to say that female attraction to men with culinary skills is misplaced; indeed the production of delicious food requires a certain level of patience, passion and dexterity.

The Sinistry lies not in the mere fact of being a man and being good at cooking but the motives behind, and processes involved in, the journey to culinary competence. The men in question pursue culinary arts for the sole purpose of adding another feather to their often well feathered caps and have inevitably sacrificed hours of healthy outdoor pursuits to cross that great watershed in cookery, which I shall refer to as the ‘Risotto Threshold’. Such men are not impressed by tales of vinegar and albumen but dream of gadgets (see earlier), foams and naming their first born, Heston.

These men apply skills acquired in the gastronomic world, to their day to day lives; not least in the way in which they approach women (largely not the single sort). They are meticulous in their preparation, conscious of presentation and execute quickly under pressure. Three star rated Sinistry.

#15 Baby On Board Signs

Female sinistry is an altogether more complex affair than its standard mac-wearing, binocular-toting male equivalent. Women are not overtly sinister; but they employ a number of strategic sinister practices (SSP), largely directed against other women.

Take 'Baby on Board' signs. These are not safety devices or public information announcements; they are advertisements. And not the nice self-empowering you-can-do-it kind; the you-don't-have-this-so-your-life-is-shit kind. If you peer very closely, you can see etched on to the rear windscreen, to the left of the sign: 'I have a...', and to the right: '...Where is yours, You Slag?'

You can now get a badge for traveling on the tube with the same catchphrase. I suppose it is supposed to be funny - 'How could a woman have a baby 'on board'? Oh! I see! She's sort-of referring to herself as a vehicle! HA!' The badge does solve the 'fat woman or pregnant' (fwop) dilemma, at least in theory, but it also functions as a small but potent slap in the ovaries to the other women in the carriage.

The invisible, intangible, slapping of another woman's ovaries in public may not appear that sinister. But it is, when you think about it.

Attic rating: 6.66/10

#14 Transition lenses

Nobody doubts the utility of sunglasses, particularly on professional sportsmen, yachtsmen (on whom more later) and other professionals whose occupation might otherwise threaten their long-term vision. Nor would we, despite our constant cynicism, ever begrudge people corrective lenses: all of the contributors to this site have had had their vision blighted in some degree by years of video games, box sets of Deadwood and furious onanism. There is, however, something deeply and darkly sinister about those lenses which turn dark, as if by magic, when the wearer enters sunlight.

There are basically two issues: in the first instance they’re staggeringly, screamingly naff, so much so that one wonders what must be going through the wearer’s mind in lieu of the minimal self-awareness required to remove them. The second point is essentially sinister philosophy: as the world becomes brighter, the world of the transition lens-wearer becomes darker. The eyes are the window to the soul, and the wearer of the transition lens would rather his remained obfuscated.

Attic rating: 6

#13 The man with the half-pint

Perhaps with the exception of Horlicks, the lager top, and the emerging popularity of slimline tonic to accompany your Gordon’s, the half pint is the most sinister drink regularly consumed. The purchaser of the half-pint in any establishment will automatically provoke wary looks from his fellow clientele. This is for a myriad of reasons, but these two strike me as being particularly significant.

Firstly, the man who buys the half pint is often sitting alone. He is watching you. Perhaps he is waiting for an opportunity to accost you. He will often attempt to make eye contact with you, a seemingly innocent and harmless enough gesture but one that could lead to an enforced conversation, leaving you feeling more awkward than virgin in a barracks. Initially perhaps, you may be comforted by the fact that the man accosting you only has a half pint- how long can this conversation last until an empty vessel provides you with a heaven sent opportunity to beat a hasty retreat? But it is here that the man with the half pint truly manifests his sinistry. He can make it last an hour. Perhaps more. The purchase of one half-pint will give him more than enough time to choose an unwilling victim, engage him and ensnare him for a remarkable period of time.

And secondly, the man with the half-pint is making a statement. He is not drinking a full pint. In God’s name why not?! Does the consumption of 2 units of alcohol turn him into a nightmarish beast one can only imagine? Like a cross between the Incredible Hulk and Freddie Flintoff perhaps. Or maybe is the man with the half-pint deliberately appearing occupied whilst maintaining perfect sobriety, like card players in Vegas? Does this mean the fact that there is a primary school/secluded car park/mini-golf course in the vicinity suddenly bear significance?

The man with the half-pint is the mortal enemy of public house frequenters all over the world. The man who orders a half-pint lager top can only be imagined.

Attic Rating: 4.5/10

#12 Model Railways

There are some things that you can get away with as a young boy, that just don't fit in the adult arena. Public nudity, short shorts, and hugging big dogs come to mind, but the creation and devoted nurture of model railways is unquestionably the most sinister. It combines some of the most disturbing elements of our culture: quasi-Victorianism, plastic (though probably unionised) transport workers, the quest for elusive youth, and super-glue. Then model-makers place them all in an attic - the most sinister of all rooms.

No man should love inanimate objects to much, but greater love hath no man than he lay down his track for his bends. When you overhear your grandmother say that Grandad 'has put so much of himself into that model railway station', the sinister implications are uncomfortable. When she follows this with, 'He just can't wait to get the grandchildren up there', it is time to run for the door.

Attic Rating: 9/10

#11 Non-military night-vision

Night vision goggles undoubtedly grant the wearer an advantage in certain non-sinister situations. War, and perhaps nature documentaries. Nobody would dispute the advantages of seeing at night if you are hunting an enemy combatant, and tracking a pair of endangered badgers for the BBC is less bad than most. The downside to this technological advancement, however, is a device that in the wrong hands is almost unbearably creepy.  

Animals and the military use night-time for cover, to protect themselves from other people. People, on the other hand, use the dark to hide their deeply shady activities from other people. Things civilians do in the dark: develop photographs (often sepia), fornicate, spike drinks, grow mushrooms and eat ortolan. All, I'm sure you'll agree, deeply sinister. Usually the one positive is that we don't have to watch them. But thanks to night-vision technology, the citizenry can, if they really want to and have a spare few hundred pounds, sit in pitch darkness at a safe distance and patiently observe their targets, who are shrouded in an appropriately eerie green glow. Whether these are women getting changed, elderly couples watching television or children being read a bedtime story, the night-vision goggle provides an unparalleled opportunity for deviant prying. In any civilian context the utterance "oh, those are just my night-vision goggles" is tantamount to "I know, I can't believe I'm not in prison either". 

Attic rating: 8/10

#10 The wearing of Barbour jackets in urban areas

Any man with a shovel in the boot of his car will tell you that it pays to be prepared.

It might be said however, that one’s parsnips have been thoroughly buttered, wearing a thornproof, tartan lined, wax jacket which is “extremely resistant to snags and pulls from spiky plants such as brambles and hawthorn”, on a cloudy day in Notting Hill.

It pays to be prepared. And it no doubt, in the minds of the upwardly mobile, pays to appear to have just come from; be about to go to; or have forgotten one’s Mac at; one’s ‘place in the country’.

Such jackets are undoubtedly very well made, but then again, so are shovels. The problem with being well prepared is that it often leads to a misplaced sense of confidence. The man who slips on a pair of driving gloves (more later) genuinely believes that it is safe to take corners at higher speeds now that there is fleece and calf skin between his own skin and the wheel.

The urban thornproof man is conscious of the fact that his suede loafers and Japanese denim may give the game away, but confident in the knowledge that he is well prepared. Deep seated anxiety and misplaced confidence may well be the worst combination since chair legs and swimming pools. It is a combination that gives rise to Sinistry of the highest degree. I should know; I live in London and have been known, in colder months, to wear a tartan lined wax jacket which is “extremely resistant to snags and pulls from spiky plants such as brambles and hawthorn”. But then again, it is very well made.