Product Review: JML Point'n'Paint

There's one part of painting that particularly resounds with me, and that's "pain". When it comes to decorating a room, I can turn absolutely anything into a Picasso-esque abstract masterpiece.

This summer, feeling rather boisterous, and harbouring a massive burst of unspent creativity, I decided to paint my bedroom. Viewers of my YouTube videos will know that, for the past half-a-decade [at least], my room has been a garish green colour [or, as Dulux called it, "Fruit Fool 2."]

This time, however, I've decided to go the extra mile, and I've resorted to covering my walls in an overbearing blue [or, as Wilkinson call it: "Electric Blue".]

Since my paintbrushes and I are not on speaking terms since our last petty squable [painting the living room white a few years ago], I decided to invest in the item you see above -  the JML Point'n'Paint. According to the wondrous video that's played above these products in stores, you don't need to tape around any fixtures and fittings on your walls, and you can paint an entire room in less than an hour. These claims, however, are probably geared towards people who have an iota of common sense and artistic talent. But how would they fare with your common-ore urban idiot [i.e. me]?
[Find out after the very small jump!]
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JML are usually renowned as a company that hold true to their claims, and make devices and products that actually help consumers out in their own homes. But with the Point'n'Paint, they may have overstretched themselves.

Firstly, while the thought of painting an entire room in less than an hour sounds fantastic, you may want to hold your horses. At best, even while listening to a bunch of uptempo, modern dance songs, you'll probably find that you'll do one wall in about an hour. I'm not sure if the JML marketing department lost the memo on this one, but to be classed as a 'room', something ideally needs to have four walls. That means that, most likely, you'll be spending at least four hours on a room. While that doesn't sound too bad, I'll draw your attention to two of the words in that sentence: "at least". I say "at least" because the Point'n'Paint does not spread the paint evenly across your wall. What tends to happen is that you end up with a massive splodge of paint where you start your stroke, and a massive splodge where you end it, with the bit in between making you wonder which universe all your paint has somehow magically teleported to.

Because of this lack of coverage, not only will you need to add a second and sometimes third coat, but by the time you get to your second coat, you'll be in for a nasty surprise.

JML's products usually have great build quality, but the pads that apply the paint to your walls, however, seem to made out of dandelion clocks, and held together with sweat and spit from the factory floor. After just about holding on for one coat of paint, they lose all friction, tear off the bottom of the pad, and fall to the floor [which, in my case, made it look like a ghost of a Smurf/Na'vi crossbreed].

Of course, this is a fantastic thing for JML, as you need to repeatedly run back to the shops and buy yet another set of pads to paint with. If you listen carefully as it thunks into your basket or trolley, you can hear a cash-register chime and a CEO cackle, somewhere in the direction of JML's head office.

In short, while the JML Point'n'Paint is a good idea for novices like me, it simply does not do the job very well, thanks to its shoddy build quality, and its lack of ability to spread paint properly. Unfortunately, then, it looks like I will have to cancel my application to re-decorate the roof of the Sistine Chapel. It also looks like painting, if you excuse the 'gangsta' turn of phrase, will remain exactly that: "pain ting."

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Lo Reid’s Hypnotist Show: Low indeed

 

Hypnotism has always been a rather strange phenomenon to me. Although I usually pride myself on not eating up all the junk that my nearest television set throws at me, I’ve been all over the issue of televised hypnotism like a tramp on chips. 

From childhood, I remember shows where hypnotists would conveniently forget to break a spell that they have cast onto unwitting members of the public, resulting in tragic, hectic, but ultimately incredibly humorous effects. Of course, I’ve since realised that hypnotism doesn’t revolve around magic or spells of any sort, and that it is merely the power of suggestion combined with incredible concentration. Be that as it may, hypnotists still receive relatively negative press, even when their doings are not being sensationalised to almost-Daily Mail-esque proportions.

Being a psychology student, I know that stereotypes aren’t healthy, so I jumped at the chance to see Lo Reid, one of Europe’s most famous and prolific hypnotists, in a show at Teesside University on the 23^rd of February. 

After a couple of speeches from a bunch of ex-servicemen who had somehow arrived in Middlesbrough with absolutely no money [and without the necessary camouflage and ammo to defend themselves from the chavs in the area], Lo Reid took to the stage; the room filling with expectation from past show-attendees, and bewilderment from skeptics such as myself.  Dressed from head to toe in black leather, a look that suggested she was also available to hire as a low-budget Debbie Harry replacement, Reid attempted a quick stand-up routine to warm up the crowd. By ‘attempted stand-up’, I of course mean that she delivered a tirade filled to the brim with F-bombs and downstairs body-parts, held together with a few genuinely funny punch-lines.

After successfully sourcing 20 volunteers who met her rather stringent criteria [of not being idiots, too drunk, or on medication], the hypnotism finally began. To my dismay, she did not carry a pocket-watch to hypnotise participants with, but insisted that that they had to stare at a specific spot on the wall and relax whilst listening to her instructions. At this point, the audience was told to be as quiet as possible, as this would affect the concentration of the volunteers on stage. While true showmen and show-women, even under these circumstances, would not turn their backs to the audience, all I could really see was the back of Lo Reid’s aging-blonde hair style, and the dead cow that sacrificed its life to provide the skin to make the bulk of her jacket.

Once all of the volunteers were all ‘under’ [and at this point, they were not the only ones feeling ‘veerrrry sleeeeepy’], they were all made to subconsciously act out several scenarios, including being a goldfish, being a train, and somewhat bizarrely, being in their favourite sex positions; a command that resulted in one girl flopping back on her chair and not moving a muscle, and one man roughly grabbing the hypnotist and attempting to mate with her. From this moment on, the show seemed to repeat jokes over, and over again, exposing the crude humour that this country has sadly succumbed to in recent years. Candidates running for NUS Presidency ended up taking their clothes off at various points throughout the show; students hope that this is the only time that they’ll be caught with their pants down.

Other skits included volunteers acting out an Indian Jeremy Kyle sketch [which some called racist], certain participants forgetting the existence of the number 7, and volunteers dancing to Beyoncé’s hit “Single Ladies”, seemingly of their own volition. Unfortunately, I’ve forgotten most of the events that occurred in the rest of the show, proving that I’ve either got a talent for repressing painful memories, or proving how forgettable Lo Reid’s show really is. 

Sadly enough, I’ve seen more highlights in my roommate’s latest hairdo, and the ticket didn’t seem to be worth the paper it was printed on. Duller than a digestive biscuit, and dryer than the desert, the show may be heading to a Student Union bar near you –avoid it at all costs. Lo Reid’s Hypnotist Show is exactly that: low.

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