The Compostual Existentialist

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Bah Humbug – Part 3

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Despite having shit loads of Uni work, I thought I would try and do a series of posts each day about the bahhumbuggness of christmas to go with my new seasonal background.

Day 3 – Food shopping

OK. Let’s think about something. Forget what time of year it is and think about some imaginary family function in the summer. If you don’t have a family, just imagine one. If you don’t have imagination, pretend that you have.

Let’s say this function is at the end of August. You have been tasked with making a trifle. Or maybe a cheese board or something. Would you go into a supermarket or shop and buy the cream or cheese in July?

NO YOU WOULD NOT!

So why is it, that supermarkets, shops and the like already have turkeys, seasonal creams, seasonal sausage rolls and party foods and seasonal cheese boards on their shelves? OK yes I quite understand that people want to shop early to beat the rush. Yes I totally comprehend that most of these goods are available all year round in some form or other. But why promote the SEASONAL ones nearly a month before?

So there I was. In Testicles. Yes, I know. I don’t shop in Testicles unless I have to and this was one of those occasions. There. On special offer. Brandy butter. BRANDY FUCKING BUTTER. with a shelf life date of December 5th.

how-to-make-brandy-butter

Now I like extravagance as much as the next person. Yes butter is nice on toast. Brandy butter on toast though? I probably would give that a miss though I would say that if you were a pisshead of some sort you’d probably enjoy a slab of brandy butter on your toast with your gin on your cornflakes. Each to their own.

But no. I am being fanciful. Surely in reality the only use for Brandy butter and Brandy infused cream and the like is for christmassy fayre? No? So as Christmas is not until the January end of December…..WHY THE FUCK were they in the shops?

At this time of year I like to espy the fat bastard with the bald head wheezing asthmatically round the old supermarket while pushing a trolley burgeoning with all manner of festive fayre. The one with the trolley full of mince pies, cakes, stollen, turkey, prawns, melons, crackers, cheese, mini sausage rolls, them little mini scotch eggs, tins of Quality Street and the like and I wonder whether all of this is going to go into some giant chest freezer or whether he’s going to eat the lot during the week.

shopping-trolley-grocery_~u16589557

Of course there are those that do things in extreme ways. There always will be. And no, this time I’m not talking about fatty. I’m talking about those that descend on their local stores the night before Christmas AND BUY UP EVERY FUCKING THING. They then stand moaning as all the other mad people that have done the same are wrestling with the self-service checkouts and holding up the queue that is snaking through the aisles. Why? Why leave everything to the last minute? Sure things taste better when they are fresh, but these supermarket things are designed to have a long shelf life anyway. The shop is only shut for one day! Not for ever!

It’s like people become possessed with the consumerist spirit and are forced, without will, to shop. Now, see I wouldn’t mind, but in my eyes all I can see is waste. I don’t know about you but even on my most hungry days, I can only manage one large meal. Yes, I am aware that there are some who have exceedingly large families and they have to cater for them too but I am astounded by the amount of stuff people buy. Just for one special specific day of the year. The truth will out though, as if you watch these people fill their bins on the day after Boxing Day you will see them dumping loads of this food into the bin uneaten.

bin-bags

The west gorges itself at this time of year. It is like some obscene binge where everyone eats far too much high fat high salt high sugar food all in the name of celebration. It is an orgy of consumerism. While some of the planet starve because of drought, war and famine, we in the west stick two fingers up and nom our way through enough pies, cakes, turkey and prawns to feed an army for a year. Oh yeah, sure, I know you’re thinking “Well it’s not that bad, its only me you and a few others”. Its not. Realistically there are far too many people eating far too much. Just on one day. And for what? To celebrate the birth of the Christ child? Not any more. It is because IT IS DEMANDED OF YOU SOCIALLY. Society demands that you do this because if you don’t you are a miserable scrooge. Well I’ve got news for you….Society is the miserable cunt. I reject the enforced gorging, I reject the enforced consumerism and I reject it with a single finger extended.

niger.184.3.650

It is clearly wrong that while others starve and try to find shelter, we in the west sit in our homes surrounded by consumer goods and tacky tinsel stuffing ourselves with amounts of food that would kill. Foods produced in mass quantities producing CO2, litter, methane and waste. All in aid of praising the great Gods of consumerism and their minion Corporate Santa. So while that strange Aunt that nobody likes quietly sips her sherry in the corner while expelling putrid sprout farts from her wrinkled anus, think about the damage she’s doing. Think about those starving children. Think. If it was your country where children were starving, and people in far off lands were having a good old knees up, you’d be like “Oi! No! Look at little Johnny! He’s starving hungry!”.

No? You wouldn’t? No I didn’t think you would. You’d be far too busy thinking about that Aunt and the fact she’s bought you socks that are too small for the 10th year running. Or what time Doctor Who is on.

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Author: stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists.

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