We think we choose, unconsciously the choice is made for us, through and through. Hardly, circumstantial at best, subconscious selection is subtle. Our preferences are engrained in years of trial and error. We're a target at best. A fucking bullseye for the powerful elite that understand these things better than us. We tell ourself it's coincidence, how convenient. No. Convenience is what gives grip to habits hold. That comfortable blanket slung slightly over slender shoulders cold. Generations cowed through this preposterous system of greed, to better understand the ones that dependability rest on. Often, uneasiness rests in my stomachs pit. Knowing is the battle, and choosing the alternative is the war. Unbeknownst to the general populace they struggle with their daily lives, and will know no different. The appearance of oddities takes keen observation. Something I've eyed when purchasing simple life necessities at ones local grocer, is the ratio of cost to weight. How much do you get for a certain amount of currency? Every price tag here in Australia has a price/kg (or 100grams) unbiased to any one brand. They break it down for your convenience at the point of shelf to basket. North America, I've found, isn't always as willing to point out the obvious. My endeavours in grocery analysis have yielded a few intriguing observations. Smaller "more convenient" sized packaging is often staggeringly priced in comparison to a larger identical product. For one individual it's often difficult to gauge, because to get the larger quantity often means more waste, and much more of an overall coast to the individual. But to buy smaller quantities is of higher detriment to the environment, as packaging overruns landfills. Dilema. A discussion arrose earlier today about food thrown due to expiration, or lack of freshness, which comes at a cost to establishments, and unfortunately liability also dictates what establishments can do with food gone past the point of no return. No homeless person, don't dive deep in our dumpsters full of day old bread, you sick twisted waste of life. I hope you starve. This also brings up a point that manufacturers struggle with, that age old detail of how to preserve the product as long as humanly possible, and I don't know about you, but I know I want as many chemicals added to my food as possible, to make me bigger, (stronger, and faster). The more we delve into the deep of this debate about our daily human need, all the more convolution arises. Solutions. Can we break the habit of our gluttonous ways, doubtful. My pessimistic attitude is justified in the magnitude of the issue, and on my (often) inability to break my own habits. Hunger is something that strikes me each and everyday, and when I come face to face with that pre-packaged garlic toast, I give in and heat that delectable roll of deliciousness right beside my home made lasagna until it's golden brown. Preservatives smurrrrvatives. I think about it now, but last night was a different story. Multiply that struggle by the billions that have choice, and garlic toast wins every time. I could keep going, debating the intricacies of the downward spiral this path leads, but rock bottom will be long after I turn to dust, and for all the ill turns science has turned us down, science will adapt, the cunning of man will problem solve with trial and error, eventually guiding us down that golden road to perfection. Ha.
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