Inner feelings …

The Food Fascists lost – the SAS took care of them, in the national interest, because their defeat was integral to Part 2 of the expansionary economic rescue package which is not about GDP or inflation or the interest rate. It’s about qualitative stuff. It’s not about how many iPods we have or how many bedrooms our architecturally-designed beachfront cribs have, it’s about how relaxed and safe and content and fulfilled we feel. All good economists know this.

So – part two of my bailout package focuses on inner feelings.

One primal feeling is whatever we call the joy we feel when a long-time foe has been defeated. Ha ha, vegan, bogun, wheatgrass suffragettes; you lost. You not only have to eat high-fibre, uncooked, meat-free, sodium-free, taste-free, culturally-acceptable muck, you also have to eat bitter and difficult to swallow humble pie.

Chocolate reigns supreme. Mince and cheese pies are good again while broccoli and dandelion quiche is consigned to the compost bin.

Is that a choir of angels I hear? Hark what light from yonder window breaks?

It’s a beam of common sense shining down upon the righteous, which of course reminds me of stewed tamarilloes and caramelised vanilla custard, or char-grilled peaches served with French Vanilla ice cream, vol au vents filled with double cream and caramel and topped with little chocolatey sprinkly things. See – the inflation rate doesn’t matter.

Unemployment doesn’t matter for us either. We’re teachers. There’ll always be jobs for us.
Sleeping late, brunches of scrambled eggs and hash browns and grilled sausages and fried mushrooms and tomatoes (and there’s nothing wrong with black pudding and a side-serving of grilled pineapple with freshly ground black pepper on it), freshly squished orange juice, coffee of course and a couple of pain au raisin. I think some toast with Beelzebub butter and marmalade too. When love is in the air, GDP doesn’t matter.

Add a good book to all of this. The Lonely Planet for Pakistan is a good read, as is Great Expectations and Croatian Airlines’ inflight magazine, and Frank Sargeson’s short stories.
What joy – I can eat M&Ms in class again, without having to pretend to have a nagging cough. I can eat a microwaved bacon and egg pie while photocopying worksheets. And when I spill icing sugar from my vanilla éclairs on the kids’ books I don’t have to pretend it’s cocaine.

Good food is socially acceptable and politically correct again. This must be how they felt when the Berlin Wall came down. They had jobs and money but more than that – their hitherto black and white world was now coloured.

And thus our economy is fixed.

– Peter Giddens