As the new edition of the Guinness Book of World Records from the GWR comes out this week, I decided to explore some of the more modern records that have been created or broken in this past calendar year and what they reveal about the evolution of human society.
The number of people called Judy who can be offered fire damage coverage on upholstery in half an hour. A Carlos Dominguez of Tijuana managed 47. With Mexico being essentially barren of Judies, the Judies themselves had to be shipped in from Idaho. For me, this record is very much reflective of a rise collectively of pessimism but also a growing tendency towards extremism. We are no longer sated for adrenaline by simple rollercoasters or cliff-hangers on our daily soap operas. Now we need the logistical Everest of coordinating the transportation of 47 Judies to Mexico, many of whom didn’t have a passport initially and nearly all of whom required inoculation and sedation before travelling.
A Mr Clive Altrincham of Wilmslow broke the world record for longest indignant streak, being mildly furious about the quality of a sandwich he’d been sold in Pret á Manger for four months, seven days and sixteen hours. At the heart of this record is the truth that, despite everything, the greatest joy that can be brought to a British person’s heart is the opportunity to feel indignant about something, but without the social embarrassment of having to raise it with the perpetrator.
A Miss Jemima Fops-Warmly of Chelsea, back in May, broke the record for longest period of time without saying anything of notable worth. Miss Fops-Warmly has now not said anything of even the vaguest interest or coherence for seven years, four months and eighteen days. A partial transcript of her efforts has been released by the Guinness Book of World Records website as indicative of the banality required to qualify for this record:
“. . .so like anyway, yeah, like, it was so, just, like, yeah, I mean absolutely, yeah, you know, yeah, so obsv, like, you know, like yeah, totes . . .”
There was a moment back on Christmas Eve 2020 when observers thought she might have used a noun, but then realised the microphone had just picked up a passing ombudsman.
The ‘number of voles in a mitre record’ was smashed this year by the Bishop of Halifax who realised that by ironing them, he could layer in far more. The Bishop had upset his diocese earlier in the year by calling Aled Jones an ‘arse’ during a live ‘Songs of Praise’ broadcast.
The number of people stood relatively near a Belgian now stands at forty-seven people. The Belgian in question is a Jan van Breugen. It is unclear whether the record is accredited to him or to the forty-seven people who had gathered just outside of his personal space.
The number of social media posts within an hour is now held by Jenny ‘Thunder Thumbs’ Clematis of Indiana who posted 7,429 times in sixty minutes. None of the posts were of any significance and they all failed to enrich anybody’s life in any way.
A Mr Clive Haverstock of Newry in County Down now owns the record for world’s most offensive trousers.
Sartorial-based records being on the increase reflects the increasingly superficial nature of human existence. Humanity is focusing on the trousers rather than the soul. In his latest book, former Archbishop, Rev. Rowan Williams, addresses this seismic shift in philosophical ponderings: “As we enter this third millennia, humanity seems to be spiritually searching, wandering like the Israelites in the desert, looking for meaning but not really wanting to put any effort into it, and just settling on trousers. None of us has to look far for our trousers. I just look down, and there they are. Or if it’s first thing in the morning, and I’m in my nightgown still, I ask my wife, Jane, where my trousers are and, nine times out of ten, she knows the answer. Of course, trousers are relatively new theologically-speaking. Christ did not wear trousers. In fact, trousers were considered a symbol of barbarism, worn by Scythian horsemen and wild Celts and Goths. Thomas Aquinas wrote: (translated here by Arthur Askey) ‘To encase ones legs in the bifurcated trouser is to enslave your limbs to the pagan mind-set, devoid of the Holy Spirit. One cannot welcome the Holy Spirit into your life in trousers – it will get stuck. Even if you unbutton the fly.’ And how true those words are even today.” (‘Donald, where art thine trousers?’ – A Spiritual Journey via M&S’ Rev. Rowan Willaims – 2024)
The superficiality of modern media seems to be championed in these records, however, ‘facile’ has always been at the heart of ‘The Guinness Book of Records’. Take for example the original 1955 edition, which included such records as:
- the number of times a northerner can say ‘ey up missus’ in a minute
- the most ration tokens spent on liquorice
- number of egg and cress sandwiches eaten during Churchill’s speeches
- most tattoos of Gracie Fields on one torso.
- The world hat doffing record – a Mr Eric Chambers of High Wycombe doffed his hat four hundred and eight times in one hour outside Claridge’s Hotel
Several of these occurred during the war years, when the trivial was a fine distraction from the impending invasion of Nazi stormtroopers.
Brian Plinth of Havisham holds the record for most number of ways to misspell ‘apricot’ whilst still recognisably being ‘apricot’ – 47. E.g. apprikot, après-cot.
Wendy Smith of Kent holds the record for smelling most like Cliff Thorburn.
The things that can be deemed to be a ‘record’ seem to be becoming increasingly banal. Inclusivity seems to be the order of the day. Like a modern primary school sports day where everyone gets a medal so we all have the chance of being a record breaker. Such records include ‘world’s most apathetic aunt’ – Miss Tracy Flan of Peebles. Flan is symbolic of our entitled society. We’re so used to getting everything now and we are hugely affronted if we are denied. In fact, Flan is at the very heart of all that is wrong in Britain today. I for one shall be leafleting the local council with ‘Say No to Flan’ fliers, and having the slogan printed on the buttocks of all my cargo pants.
Most teeth fraudulently proffered to the Tooth Fairy before parents become wise to the trick – 873 by a Miss Betty Clop of Lyme Regis. Her parents had forked over two thousand pounds by the time she was eleven when they realised the documentary they’d watched about young girls’ teeth growing in rows had actually been a cleverly edited and over-dubbed documentary on sharks. Betty had got her friend Sandra to help with the editing in exchange for 10% of any profits. “My main worry,” stated her father in an interview with BBC Spotlight, “was not the loss of £2000 to our daughter through fraud and extortion, but where she was getting all the teeth from.”
Norris McWhorter has been uploaded to the cloud. Whenever you type a question into Google about world records, that’s Norris McWhorter giving you the answer. You can tell as sometimes it gives a little cough before the record is shared and occasionally it says something xenophobic.
Having imbibed four litres of Mountain Dew, Hank Uvula became the first man to urinate across the Grand Canyon.
Deborah Chittage of Oklahoma shot three priests in a week – all of who were left-handed. It is the most sinister clergymen offed in a seven-day period by one woman.
Giselle Fuerentini of Lucca became the first person to successfully turn all of a whole box worth of After Eight wrappers inside out without tearing one.
The record for the world’s most photogenic skin disease belongs to a Mrs Jill Womack who has a patch of psoriasis on her left elbow described by the GWR as having a ‘coquettish charm’.
Michael Cheam of Wolverhampton has tripped over the same hearthrug 27,643 times since 1983, breaking the previous record for tripping over the same inanimate object that was held by Mrs Jane Plinge of Penge that had been held since 1961. The object in her case of course was her granddaughter’s shoe.
Five times World Darts Champion Raymond van Barneveld has the world’s largest collection of horse dandruff. He swears by it for keeping his hands dry of sweat in major competitions. Speaking to the Dutch darts magazine, ‘Vliegende Pijlen’ he said “I came across it entirely by accident. My agent had booked me into doing an exhibition match at a gymkhana, and I three two nine-dart finishes after petting a Shetland pony. I’ve never looked back. It’s magic.” This is as close to actual sporting world records that the GWR go, preferring a much more esoteric approach. A view summed up in the words of the book’s current editor, Craig Glenday: “Why should only those who can run quickly or jump high or throw a pointy stick the furthest be recognised as the peak of human evolution? Spinning plates is ace. Eating eighty hard-boiled eggs in ten minutes is just as much about pushing the human body to the very edge and beyond. I saw a man swallow five hundred eels once. Total legend. Stuff Bolt! Can he flip a pile of 112 beermats and catch them with one hand? Can he bollocks? Mat Hand can. Took him four sodding hours and 129 goes but he bloody did it. That’s dedication. Not just under ten seconds and that’s me done mate. No, Mat Hand put in the hard yard. Legend. Sod Bolt. Bloody sod him. I am sorry, it’s just that I was at this charity event once with him and he got the last Solero. I had to have just a normal ice-pop. He was too bloody quick for me. Anyway, where was I?” For some reason, the editor of Vogue didn’t edit his response down at all. Though they did go out and buy him a Solero.
Treatises of Gloria 