Weather or No?
The recent autumnal skies have resulted in an increase in crisp bread sales, a body of lesser-known scientists have revealed. All manner of the light and healthy eating biscuits are flying off the supermarket shelves, due to the dull, grey frieze-like skies which have characterised post-October Britain.
Random experts are split, like peas, over the definitive root cause of this gastronomic phenomenon. One small but influential group in Nottingham insists that the situation is caused by a deeply psychological longing, pining if you like, for Scandinavian philosophies that seem more capable of contemplating successfully on life in the half-light all day nuances, with better prospects of finding a psychical balance in such unrelenting drab climatic environments. Another group from an unrevealed institute in central Europe, has posited the idea that Britons are seeking to eat food easy to consume that makes a loud crunching sound. This syndrome is characteristic of a desperation to give voice to the disenfranchised who feel doubly oppressed by the low, dismal ceilings of grey cloud, which suppresses sound and offers only dogged inward reflection of an unstinting void of an existence. Eating, especially noisy masticating gives an audible presence and sense of resisting at least the atmospheric, if not political, climate.
Yet another scientific group, counters these arguments, citing statistics that describe no discernible increase in thickly cut crisp sales, even though this ‘confectionery snack’ is universally known for its almost absurd noise.
“Crisps aren’t as satisfying or as sophisticated as crisp breads. People, however saddened by leaden skies, still want to express their discernment in their choice of noise making and see crisps as far too ignoble and commonplace,” a food psychologist and legume mentor, acting pretty much on an ad hoc basis, added to the debate.
“Besides, crisp breads are still very noisy, even when slightly dampened by atmospheric mists. However, their effectiveness is definitely compromised when eaten with sound suppressing spreads or when dipped in tea. So, as a result, crisp breads are still effectively noisy even when grey skies are steadily weeping.” A dilettante glove-puppet named Socky contributed to the issue, before being put back in its box – or was it?
Anyhow, the debate continued long into the lengthy autumnal night.
CREASING FOR FUN
There was absolutely no controversy whatever at the latest Origami tournament in Latent-in-the-Fold.
The competition was won by Alfred Akimbo, who produced an unbelievable three-dimensional template for the future of humanity from a common-or-garden square of blue paper. The reconstituted Buddhist ceremoniously lit the blue paper after receiving his prize before blowing away the ash. “As usual, he leaves his acolytes wanting more!” said his dilettante agent and short-term friend, Lloyd Barclay.
“He has an unbelievable left-hand; he can do almost anything with it,” said an impressed sports co-despondent for The Inconsequential.org.
Apparently, Akimbo’s skill was developed at an early age by his great uncle, who insisted the young Akimbo use rough primitively pulped paper that resembled dry muslin.
The North Korean competitor was ostracised for folding a picture of his beloved leader into a lovely little bird of paradise. Apparently, comic irony is shunned in that culture.
However, when Henry Fool produced a less than accomplished bust of HM The Queen, he was lauded by those whose folding skills extend to flags.
A businessman from Essex signally failed to impress when he folded his latest enterprise to avoid creditors and tax demands. “It took zero hours to decide to do this and anyone losing their jobs must have known that their contracts weren’t worth the paper they were printed on.” so he said.