The Difference Is, We're Demented

What has infiltrated the hierarchies of our major supermarket chains? Supervalu' presumably paid good money to an advertising agency to come up with “Real Food, Real People”. Real people as opposed to what? Those foreigners they have in the other shops. It’s a bit of stretch to claim that because someone had to get on board an aeroplane to come here that their claim to being a capable, authentic human being is thereby invalidated. Real food? So let’s be clear on this, it is Supervalu’s contention that its competitors are using fake people to stock shelves with fake food which they are then attempting to sell to an oblivious public.

A serious allegation indeed and one which the folks at Dunnes Stores clearly were not prepared to take lying down. Thus the swift counter attack “The difference is, we’re Irish”. To claim supremacy in such a fashion, a fashion which seeks to end all discussion, to announce dominion over all else can only mean one thing; Aryanism.

And where is the National Consumer Agency, An Bord Bia, the Ombudsman or the Equality Authority while all this subterfuge and deranged diplomacy is taking place? Asleep at the wheel that’s where. Typical.

Pretend food. Cyborgs on checkouts. The Aryan Irish. WTF. We need an Oireachtas Sub Committee at the very minimum.

Goodbye England (Covered In Snow)

Laura Marling on Later with Jools Holland last week.

I'll Take you Home Again Gunther

My eldest brought home the school photos recently and inside the package was a form outlining the procedure for selecting the type and quantity of prints, the cost involved and instructions for collection. The form was signed off “Thank You, The Photographer”. Where does he think he is, in a Krzysztof Kieslowski movie? His wife is The Bookkeeper and his best friend is a performance artist called The Pheasant. He lies awake every night wistfully recalling the day he was smuggled to the American side with a dozen other dissidents strapped to the chassis of an armored personnel carrier. Life in the rural midlands has been nothing but a constant source of disappointment to him since. These parents, the same dull, predictable pose they want to order every year. Nobody ever wants their kids dressed in a Stasi uniform holding replica AK47s against the backdrop of a crumbling East Berlin. Fucking Irish, cultural derelicts. Top spuds mind.