Afflicted with cabin fever over Xmas and New Year, I have spent an inordinate time in the companyof the haunted goldfish tank, aka the TV. And the inevitable hoardes of adverts.
Which set me to thinking...what would any passing alien make of Earth, if this was what they picked up (and given the tedious repetition of much of it, it's probably more likely that they'd pick up the uncomfortable mix of Can-can and Heavy metal that was Why Mums Go to Iceland than something more intellectual).
In the run up to Xmas, the TV was populated by an inordinate number of sulky girls and moody men, wearing pouts that left them a hair's breadth short of becoming goldfish, glowering at each other, getting it on in lifts (and did the one who broke her Diamond necklace on behalf of Armani have to wait in line until the Beckhams finished?) or spilling flammable liquid across the floor and rolling about in it.
Obviously all this heavy breathing wore them out, one way or another, as the post Xmas schedules centred around replacing beds and sofas. Our passing aliens might wonder why these primitive Earthlings spent so much money in December, when the prices of nearly everything were immediately cut afterwards; why, they might ask, do they not do the Xmas thing at the end of January, when the sales have happened?
Wandering aimlessly through the supermarket (oh, how we spend our days!) another thing caught my eye. Seasonally-scented air fresheners/candles/electronic gizmos. Apart from wondering idly why anyone would want these things in the first place (they make me sneeze, for a start. Open a window, for goodnesss sake!) the sheer variety of 'scents' was astonishing. And in such combinations! Cinnamon and nutmeg. Cranberry and holly. Cotton and mulberry. Soft cashmere and vanilla... hang on a minute. Cashmere? Doesn't cashmere come from goats?
Can anyone explain why I would want my festivities seasoned with goat scented ice-cream?