2013 — 6 May: Monday

Today's entertainments will include the faint possibility of a rhododendron1 and, of course, further progress through all those pridely prejudicial annotations. One or two of which have proved genuinely informative, so far. Not to mention tackling the final carton of CD cases and their artwork before I once again have to venture up into the loft to replenish my supply. (I've now rehoused nearly 1,200 CDs into CaseLogical order.)

We have met...

... the enemy (if you remember the classic Pogo line) and he is us:

In Salt, Sugar, Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us, Michael Moss delves into the processed food industry's mastery of the art and science of craving. It may not shock you that humans are wired for fierce, profound attachment to the title's three substances — what Moss calls the "holy trinity" of junk food. But it will surprise you to learn just how deliberately and carefully food companies manipulate our lust for salt, sugar, and fat.

Michael Moss, interviewed by Joe Fassler in Atlantic


Potato crisps for breakfast? Now there's a thought!

Forsooth!

Lacking the benefits of a classical education, I've reached my present advanced age entirely unaware until moments ago of this lovely quote attributed to Cicero:

"I wonder that a soothsayer doesn't laugh whenever he sees another soothsayer"

Date: 43 BC or earlier!


Buried here. Its more modern equivalent would be the dialogue between a pair of psychiatrists meeting in the street... "You're alright; how am I?"

I was quite late...

... arriving to the "Whole Earth Catalog" party. As I mentioned, I didn't get my copy (of the "Last" one) until the day of my first-ever picnic with Christa, in Oxford on 1st June 1974. (More on Stewart Brand here.)

[Pause]

A very pleasant 6.2 mile stroll in glorious sunshine with a hint of a cooling sea breeze. Plus successful dodging of grockle traffic jams by cunning, if last-minute, route planning in both directions. And a free cuppa on the return leg. Result.

Having yesterday...

... gently pruned2 a few of the vine's branches before they can end up covering the patio door — this now being, after all, my major exit route to the varied delights of the back jungle — I'm a little distressed to see clear sap dripping from the ends. Perhaps it lacks the clotting factor that animal life employs?

  

Footnotes

1  In the vicinity of Exbury.
2  It's just possible "viciously hacked off" might be nearer the mark.