Time to bin this advice

IT’S difficult to pinpoint the time when instructions accompanying household items and tools became ridiculous. Possibly, it started with Ikea and its minimalist instructions consisting of a few cartoons and some hieroglyphics.

Often, today, you find the little pamphlet you get with many items has an “instructions for use” section consisting merely of the words “good luck”, but preceded by a massive list of “safety instructions”, such as “Do not use this toaster for a sun tan”.

Most of this is legal back-covering to forestall being sued by somebody who used a barbecue lighter to set fire to their own head.

This week, singed eyebrows were raised by an Amazon item that warned: “The user assumes all risk of injury due to use.” It advised readers to “read and fully understand the safety instructions”, adding that “while every attempt is made to ensure the highest degree of protection in all equipment, we cannot guarantee freedom from injury”.

“This product,” users were sternly warned, “is not a toy.” Jings. What it could be? A bazooka? A table saw? Nail gun? Nope. A bread bin. Honestly, what a load of bannocks.

NOT BRIGHT

WHILE I’m on a roll, here’s something else terrible about the so-called modern world: sorting the brightness on your telly.

Back in the good old days, when Sir Harold Macmillan sat on the throne and we’d never had it so good, you adjusted the brightness by turning a knob on the set. Job done.

Now, you must figure out which of your three remotes you need to examine to find the dreaded “settings”. There, you might eventually find a section headed “Picture”, which has much tripe about “aspect ratios” – que? – but nothing about brightness

Next, you make a big mistake: you go online for help. Here, you find nearly all advice is for a portable telephone. Who watches films on that tiny device? Oh, young persons do? At least we’ve a new explanation for why they might go blind.

Even if you do find something applicable to an actual television set, you’ll be advised to select, from a drop-down menu, a heading that is never, ever, ever ruddy there.

So far, it’s taken you about an hour. And you’re still in the dark. It’s disgraceful.