More Food Faddery
When faced with a complex problem or illness there’s nothing like suggesting a quack ‘alternative’ cure - shoving a banana up your arse to cure colon cancer for example. (Peel it first - you don’t want to look foolish in the ER).
Of course, all cures are found in nature, it’s just that drug companies spend a lot of time and money combining them into the right doses. For instance, they have to get the tiger-bollock to bear-bile to baby-penguin-beak proportions just right to make Viagra actually work. No??....Alright smart-arse, you tell me what’s in it then!
Luckily we no longer have to wander into a health food store to get healthy food - this is good news if you don’t speak fluent ‘Beard’. You can simply go to your local supermarket, pick up an apple and admire its smooth glossiness and colour, then put it back, pick up the whizened windfall next to it bearing an ‘organic’ sticker and make your way to the check-out, secure in the knowledge that the purchase of organic food is doing you good, because it costs so much you’ve had to cut down on the booze you were going to buy.
At some point in this process you may make the mistake of calculating the value of the apples you used to see lying on the ground underneath a neighbour’s tree when you were a kid. You may want to have a little weep at this point.
To cure this depression, a visit to a real health food store is encouraged. This is because it’s impossible to feel depressed when you feel smug, and that’s what health food stores sell, smugness. That and bran. The folk behind the counter wear beards, beads, sandals and sweaters that have been ethically knitted by well-paid peasants. Of course people who eat in MickeyD’s also wear garments hand-stitched by peasants in the third-world, it’s just that these tend to be trainers (with a swoosh) and they tend to be put together by children in sweatshops.
A visit to a health food shop usually results in two things: being stalked by squirrels anxious to get their hands on your fruit and nut mix; and the kind of catastrophic bowel movement that is so long you have to send a postcard to friends half-way through to reassure them you are still alive.
The best cure for depression is straightforward.
It’s called Cherry Garcia.
Of course, all cures are found in nature, it’s just that drug companies spend a lot of time and money combining them into the right doses. For instance, they have to get the tiger-bollock to bear-bile to baby-penguin-beak proportions just right to make Viagra actually work. No??....Alright smart-arse, you tell me what’s in it then!
Luckily we no longer have to wander into a health food store to get healthy food - this is good news if you don’t speak fluent ‘Beard’. You can simply go to your local supermarket, pick up an apple and admire its smooth glossiness and colour, then put it back, pick up the whizened windfall next to it bearing an ‘organic’ sticker and make your way to the check-out, secure in the knowledge that the purchase of organic food is doing you good, because it costs so much you’ve had to cut down on the booze you were going to buy.
At some point in this process you may make the mistake of calculating the value of the apples you used to see lying on the ground underneath a neighbour’s tree when you were a kid. You may want to have a little weep at this point.
To cure this depression, a visit to a real health food store is encouraged. This is because it’s impossible to feel depressed when you feel smug, and that’s what health food stores sell, smugness. That and bran. The folk behind the counter wear beards, beads, sandals and sweaters that have been ethically knitted by well-paid peasants. Of course people who eat in MickeyD’s also wear garments hand-stitched by peasants in the third-world, it’s just that these tend to be trainers (with a swoosh) and they tend to be put together by children in sweatshops.
A visit to a health food shop usually results in two things: being stalked by squirrels anxious to get their hands on your fruit and nut mix; and the kind of catastrophic bowel movement that is so long you have to send a postcard to friends half-way through to reassure them you are still alive.
The best cure for depression is straightforward.
It’s called Cherry Garcia.
posted by Viv at 9:18 AM
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