Packaging Hell And Out Of Season Berries

hell packaging
Favorite feel-good food from my beloved America. But the packaging. Who designs, engineers, makes the packaging? College grads.

Don’t worry, dear worst-reader. We all have too much time on our hands–especially during this time of year. The fact that I’m projecting my (too much) time on others in this manner is yet another indication that the transition from industrial age > technical servitude is almost complete. The good thing? It’s just a blog. The bad thing. It’s a blog with nuggets of truth, albeit worst-writer truth. Which means. Just a few more industries need to be decimated in order to fulfill the wishes of the ghosts of the robber barons of yesteryore. You know. Those ghosts are the ones that the baby boomer generation pray to. Just imagine the image of that prayer. And so. Anyone wonder why things are so bad, why there is no future–unless you’re already rich or you’re parents will inherit you something. Indeed. Otherwise, the working stiffs of this nation lay claim to all this free time and call it Xmas. They/we hide behind the mask of midnight mass and the thrill of something coming down our chimney–that chimney really being a metaphor for our throats. And so. We Throats celebrate with friends and family, including all those that have been exploited in one way or another–especially the inner family throat exploits. But, of course, rational minds call this free-loading time of year simply #americant; yet another perfected by-product of consuming to survive. Merry this or merry that. Buy this or buy that. And find your only solace in the innocence you brought into this world through some seriously fucked up loins. Or maybe not. Let’s move on. §Just get a load of the links below. Get a good load of them. I mean, this is the season to be jolly and, more importantly, to charge up the credit cards, or, if you’re lucky, get another credit card so that you can charge that one up–adding it to the ones you’ll already never pay off. Free money, eh, worst-reader. Yeah, it’s all free money. §That said. I really miss American cereal. What I don’t miss is the packaging. First. Sorry for the bad pic (above). I’m still trying to figure how to work my new-fangled iPhone 6s camera (which I bought outright, no credit, 64GB!) It’s just that, I thought I would throw this rant out there into the ether of blogging nothingness. Who the fuck makes the packing of cereal boxes? Why is it that I can’t open these friggin’ boxes without always ripping the lids? Who makes this krapp! And why? I know. I know. They do it just to piss of worst-writer. But then worst-writer knows something they don’t. For example. Cereal box packaging is made and designed by college grads. People go to college to get a job so they can make deficient packaging. Just look at the result–the result of what all the college grads do. Doesn’t that say something about college? I mean, heck, the entire US government is managed by college grads. Yet college today has no more value than a high-school forty years ago. What could that mean? At the least, we know what previous generations have done to the whole shebang. Btw, is that the reason we deplete the future for our children? But I digress. Or do I? §The other day my mom bought blackberries. I watched her stand in front of the huge display of blackberries at (you know what store). I told her, “Mom, they’re waaaaaay out of season. People shouldn’t buy waaaaaay out of season fruit. It’s bad for the environment.” She turned to me, she gestured to the size of the display of blackberries. It was the size of a friggin’ pool. Blackberries in small and large plastic containers at least fifteen feet long, five feet wide, stacked on plastic box on the other. My mom winked that cute republican wink and without saying a word I knew her response. “Don’t worry chummy, the environment is here to serve me. That’s why I came to this country.” And so. When we got home I tried a berry. And to my un-surprise they taste like shit. I swear they do. They taste like water coloured mush paper. “Add some sugar,” my mom said. And then I realized something. Yeah. Add some sugar. Add some butter. Put cream on it. That’s how America rolls! I know. I know. That’s how the whole western world rolls. But I’m not in the western world right now. I’m in America where presidential candidates complain about immigrants. And if those immigrants are removed from the American equation then no one will have shitty tasting blackberries to choke on anymore. Wow. Things to weigh while we all have a bit too much time to kill. Yeah. Rant on.

hell fruit
Blackberries. From where? Picked by who? Totally out of season. They taste like krapp. Just add sugar.


Links that helped motivate this post: