Now you know its gonna be a good day when you buy a tomato…. ONE tomato on sale for $.49 instead of $1.29. That is amazing! And you know what… like hell it is amazing! It’s outrageous! When in the frig did a tomato cost $.49? We used to throw them at barns.
Sometimes we threw them at politicians. We would purposely rot tomatoes to throw at political rallies. We loved that.
But not at $.49 a damn tomato…Nowadays there isn’t a politician in the world worth throwing a $.49 tomato at! Maybe that’s why they cost so much now… they’ve ensured we won’t do that anymore now haven’t they! It’s all evil and ridiculous!
What is even more ridiculous is that I’m sitting here writing about a bloody $.49 cent tomato because that is what is infuriating me right now and that then reminds me of how small and foolish and utterly silly we are as humans… or maybe that’s just me (despite my best efforts)… the wars and the famines and the financial crisis pale in comparison to a $.49 cent tomato I’m afraid.
That’s because it’s real you see. I can hold it in my hands and I have real power over this. I can buy this or not. I can make a decision. It’s not like the outcome of the war in the Ukraine, or who is “really” on Epstein’s list or what to do with electric cars that go up in flames or if planet Nibiru exists or not. We will never know these things or have any effect on them—but that tomato. That’s real. That price—yeah, that’s real too. Or is it?
And I know that other people wouldn’t be as infuriated about this tomato thing as I appear to be and so I had to do a lot of soul-searching and eating licorice to figure out what was going on my head about this friggin’ $.49 cent tomato. Being apoplectic over this seemed a little extreme. Even for me.
And I think I figured it out. It’s not really the exorbitant price of the tomato, as petrifying as that is.
Well its actually a shameful thing. A bit of an epiphany really. The shameful truth of it is I’ve let this go on for so so long that it has become a highly horrifying reality that it is too late now to remedy. Maybe others are like me.
That’s not true of course. I’m the only one.
This is what has happened to me. You see—I didn’t ask at the time. And it was such an obvious question. I’ll tell you… in a bit….
The problem right now is all this time has gone by and to ask the question I want to ask is absolutely mortifying. There’s just no way in hell you’re going to ask NOW. You go with the flow and you pretend you know and hope nobody interrogates you at cocktail parties and stuff or hope you don’t find the question on a trivial pursuit game where you’ll have to pretend to be choking in front of everybody in order to get out of that whole thing.
You slink home and don’t sleep because you need to know and you don’t know and everybody else knows in truth and you are the ONLY human living in Canada who doesn’t know. And you’ll never know because it is such a stupid damn thing that even the internet doesn’t have the answer to such a stupid question. Even Chatbot isn’t interested because there is nothing intelligent in the question and it is supposed to be at least artificially intelligent. So even AI can’t stoop to answer it.
And so, you hate yourself. You lay awake into the night trying to find a way out of this impossible situation that that can only be resolved if you ask but then you will look like the complete fool you really are. And it really shouldn’t have to be like this. People move on. Not everything needs an answer. Some of the best questions ever posed have no answers. So why is this even an issue anymore? Except… well it is. And apparently there is an answer and you don’t know it. Everyone else does though.
So, in the tradition of our new age I can’t possibly blame myself can I? I know how this trauma has happened to me. I am a victim! That is why I have so many foibles! I’m not responsible for my ludicrous ignorance. It’s all because of that math teacher Mrs. Ferguson I once had who had a yardstick and a loud voice and threatened all our white knuckles as we squirmed trying to figure out what the square root of 53 was. She was a demon. She had three layers of hair-buns piled on her head and we thought she had a knife for sure in there. We learned not to ask her any questions. Ever. And so… I didn’t ask. None of us did. We were all gonna white-knuckle our ways through life without knowing many things. Because of her. She was a colonialist AND white. You know the type. Rumours were she had a penchant for fig newtons and whisky.
Anyway, you do sort of get away with it. Until one day you’re standing there with a $.49 tomato in your hand and you burst into tears. Which isn’t the humiliating part because nobody is paying attention anymore anyways. You stand there for the longest time with the $.49 tomato and wonder “why didn’t I ask at the time?” If only you had, maybe you could have done something!
So you go to the blue-haired tattooed chin-pierced manager and say, trembling of course, because having an epiphany with a blue-haired tattooed chin-pierced person is not an easy thing to do. You actually ask the question you should have asked all those years ago. You say, “There are no pennies anymore. This tomato cannot possibly cost $.49. Why are you advertising this tomato for a price it cannot be? Why?”
And Chin Pierce explains that the price is rounded out. As if that was some kind of explanation. It isn’t. Are people really that daft as to buy something because it looks more appealing at one cent cheaper even though it isn’t?
Everybody in Canada is now rounding out numbers they don’t bloody need to round out. If the tomato is $.50. Then that is what it is. Why are they doing this to us?
More importantly, why are we all accepting it? What if it were $.51? Who makes that little penny? What happened to that penny? Where is it? Who is buying real estate in Costa Rica with the pennies of poor working class human beings trying to buy a bloody tomato? All I know is that we the mooing herds aren’t buying real estate. What is the truth of this deception?
Have we all gone mad? It’s a damn tomato. It costs 50 cents. That’s all. And yet millions of us are buying things for the prices they are not. Every single one of us.
We just all went along with it. We could have changed it. We could have made the world a better place. But we didn’t. This is the definition of mass hysteria and brain-washing and totalitarian control. It is. It really is.
Now we know why we have the world we have today. It was so obvious. Oh well…
Save those seeds