I live in Kent – the “Garden of England”

From here I can board an electrically powered railway train to begin a journey to anywhere else on this planet. I'm good with that. Any railway journey I take from here passes through a seemingly endless expanse of gently rolling agricultural land filled mostly with hops (for beer), fruit orchards, and, to a lesser degree, livestock.

So I was rather upset this afternoon to find that the only apples available in my local supermarket had taken a plane journey that I couldn't possibly afford, nor would care to undertake for myself. Not only that, but they have a “Best before” date of only nine days hence.

WTF? We all know that apples can be stored properly for months on end.

Last week was 4th July, when some Americans get very excited about their identity. A work colleague chose to shower us with “Twinkies”. Have you ever seen a “Twinkie”? Have you read its ingredients? Have you found a “Best before date”? No, of course not, anything comprising nothing beyond sugar and genetically modified flavourings can't help but have a half-life longer than that of Chernobyl.

Meanwhile, the little pot of Basil I rescued from Sainsbury's between Xmas and NY continues to thrive, despite identical plants bearing a “Best before” date of only nine days hence.

I can only conclude that supermarkets are involved in a conspiracy to encourage us to discard perfectly good, healthy fresh food and stock our larders with post-acopalypic non-food.

I was also pissed-off about the cellophane wrapper.