Patronizing

Bought a packet of Nestlé Milkybar White Chocolate Buttons. They're pretty nice, if you happen to like white chocolate. Which I do, along with milk chocolate and orange chocolate, but I've never been so keen on the really dark, bitter stuff, whose strength can be guaged by their purity percentage. My mother says the 70% stuff is pretty good for you, at least, in comparison to milk chocolate. And she may be right, but it's a sort of false economy. If you happen not to like it and it's still fairly bad for you, just not as bad as the other stuff, then there really is no point eating it at all.

Mind you, the 70% chocolate is a taste of paradise when compared with the even stronger stuff. Sometimes we would get 85% chocolate - whose black, almost purple surface made it appear as if there was no milk in it at all. I did once try a 99% Peruvian chocolate (though I was in Birmingham, not Peru). It basically tasted of chalk.  

And before you ask the tiresome old question 'how do you know what chalk tastes like', let me remind you that you don't need to have eaten something to have some idea of what it tastes like. Other senses assist us - we know what chalk smells like and have some idea of its texture. Smell and taste are pretty much the same thing, and half of our culinary sensations relate to texture - why do some people prefer crunchy peanut butter to the smooth equivalent? So no, I have not eaten chalk. But I doubt most of you have ever worn rose-tinted glasses - yet I am sure you can imagine what the world would look like through them? Well, I am sure too that you can imagine what chalk tastes like.

Returning to the opposite end of the chocolate spectrum, Milkybar Buttons, I was rather amused by the little 'Story time' segment on the back of the packet.

"The MILKYBAR Kid loves riding Sunny the horse. They go everywhere together and have lots of fun. Sometimes Sunny runs very fast. How fast can you run?"

You may have gleaned from the blog post title that the main reason I found this little snippet of advice amusing is the remarkably lazy and patronizing transition from a brand-related interest story to that unsubtle stab of a fitness tip. 'Cause let's face it - in case you have forgotten that you are stuffing yourself with little white discs of lard and sugar it's worth reminding you that you should try to fit this gluttonous activity within a healthy regiment of impulsive, obsequious and harshly competitive exercise. "Go on you sook! Run faster!", said by an Austrlian loudmouth for extra effect.~~

In case you found my explanation above too abstruse here's a summary. I have no objection to junk food companies having health advice on the back of their food. There's nothing wrong with enjoy Cadbury's Dairy Milk as part of a balanced diet or Smoking can cause lung cancer. But at least such messages are to the point. They aren't preaching to you, they're just succinctly supplying a simple statement. They're not trying to sneak information into your brain. And if pictures of damaged organ tissue happens to put you off smoking, so be it. At least it's honest. But turning a very short story into a subliminal instruction "how fast can you run?" is frankly shocking and desperate. And I doubt it will really work either. I might have written a blog post about it, but I don't feel any particular compulsion to go for a run. At least, no more than usual.

Still, maybe I'm just old fashioned. In twenty or thirty years time it will be perfectly normal for sweet packets to take on the role of teacher/parent/sports instructor.

As for my weekly election prediction? Well, once again it's the same as last week. Some are saying that the public will, near the end of the campaign, marginal voters will sway to whichever party has the lead at the time, in the hopes that it will produce a decisve result - a majority government. However, I think it's fair to say that the electorate have a mind of their own and won't alter their voting patterns simply to comply with the statistical curiousity that a governing party needs exactly half the seats in Parliament to form a majority.