Orson Carte, our man on the tools, ponders life's great mysteries...

A laudable suggestion, Dave – although the Gallagher brothers pose something of a security risk in and of themselves, don't you think? Hahahahaha.

Seriously, though, I will be in touch with their management shortly, and will be encouraging Oasis to re-record this as a 'hit single' promoting our industry.

I will also have to suggest some improved lyrics, as the brief research I have done so far seems to indicate that the words sung to this song are, at present, fairly meaningless babble. I'm sure my suggestions will be taken in the spirit they are intended, ie, the spirit of making them infinitely better than what they currently are.

I will be sending similar missives to the representatives of Beyoncé Knowles, for use of her song 'Ring the Alarm' off current album 'B'Day' (which I assume is an abbreviation of 'birthday', rather than a misspelling of the continental backside rinsing technology); Otis Redding, for his tune 'Security'; and portly pin-ups Duran Duran, for their song 'Girls on Film', which I have already provisionally re-titled 'Potential Offenders on Digital Video'.

I feel quite confident that all of these musicians will be flattered to have their work 'reinterpreted' in this way. It may also assist them in being viewed as more 'serious' and conscientious by the general public.

A history with maps

The eagle-eyed amongst you may have noticed that Dave McGurty works for a company named Atlas Alarms. If you don't believe me, you have permission to go back to the second line of this article and re-read. If you are Dave McGurty, or are someone who knows him, then feel free to skip the next couple of sentences.

See? I am a notorious truth-teller, and should be believed, no matter what those Oasis types might say.

Atlas Alarms itself is a very interesting company. It was founded almost 1000 years ago, and as such is one of the oldest security installation companies in the world.

Back in those days, when dinosaurs walked the Earth and absolutely no one worked to European Standards, the United Kingdom was a little less united. Strangely, however, all of the cartographers (or 'map-makers' as they called them in those days) lived together in a single, wonderful house. Unfortunately, the centralised nature of this map production squad posed a significant security risk, as you can imagine.

A terrible secret

The Emperor of Britain was only too aware of these risks. Unbeknownst to his people, however, he harboured a terrible secret. The secret was this: the sworn enemies of his lands, the eskimo ninjas, were planning an invasion. And the one thing eskimo ninjas hated most in the world was maps. The thing they hated second most in the world was people who made maps. They were going to be very unhappy when they discovered a house full of maps and map makers [cartographers]!

So to combat this terrible evil, the emperor employed a crack squad of highly skilled guys to come up with some kind of solution to the problem.

This motley group of blacksmiths, bankers, archers and parking inspectors set to work on securing the maps. They also gave due consideration to the welfare of the map makers themselves. After much thought, the solution they devised was at once elegant and brutal. It combined sheer rat cunning with rats, squirrels, and numerous other animals.

They surrounded the house containing all of the maps and their makers with ropes and wires of varying thicknesses. These ropes and wires covered a massive area, with the initial barrier some two miles from the house itself.

Each wire was attached to an animal. If the wire was tripped, the animal was strangled slightly, causing it to yelp with pain. (Alarms from most current-day manufacturers have eliminated the use of strangulated animals.) The wires furthest from the house were attached to the smallest animals, such as the aforementioned rats and squirrels, while those closest to the dwelling caused animals of the size of elephants and dragons to roar with indignity.

These yelps and roars were the signal for the emperor's army to descend on the house and slaughter the invading hordes. They were the world's very first 'alarms', and their very efficiency caused all of Britain's maps to be saved from the eskimo ninja swine.

The honour of men

The alarms were a total success. The only slightly sour taste left in the mouth was the death of all of the map makers. Unprepared for such technology, and hungry after their store of food ran out, they ventured forth from the house, but were sadly burnt to death by the angry, strangled dragons positioned just outside.

After this incredible success, the Emperor christened the group The Honourable Company of Map Alarms Installers.

Some years later, after maps were collated into books, they became The Honourable Company of Atlas Alarms Installers. And some time later than that, following an indiscretion in a tavern, the term 'Honourable Company' was dropped from the title.

These days, Atlas Alarms is 'the north west's premier electronic security installer'. What a strange and exciting journey it has been for this historic firm. For further information, feel free to visit www.atlasalarms.co.uk.