So, anyway, sometimes it seems that even the very marmosets of all we hold dear are gambolling across the wide-open fields of this – what was once - our own supermarket car park of eternity. There were days when it seemed this car park was o’er-brimmed with vehicles of all shapes and sizes, each one conveying a bevy of customers all eager for what two-for-the-price-of-one delights they could cram into their ever-eager trolleys. Now, though the car park is deserted and the last special offer advertising fliers blow forlornly in the wind that blows through these wide-open spaces.
Once it seemed the supermarket could – on its tightly-stacked shelves – answer every existential question we could pose for it. The meaning of life could be found somewhere within the seemingly endless choice of different brands of tins of baked beans from the straightforward simplicity of the cheapest own-brand right up to the luxury finest gourmet collection.
Oh, yes, what use had we for philosophy, literature, even science when we could choose between so many different brands of toilet paper, each with its own special fluffy animal brand name and logo. Why spend so much valuable potential shopping time pondering the eternal verities when there was such a good discount on the South American red wines and specialist small-brewery beers.
Oh, back in those halcyon days we had the product that could answer any question we could ask of this cold immense universe, and still get bonus point on our store loyalty cards.
Yes, those were truly the golden days.
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