Friday, June 23, 2006

Que sera, sera. Que?

Night before last I watched part a reality TV show whereby some rich
types (Public At Large Class) get to be taken around by some other
rich type (Celeb Class) to assess the best way to blow their wad.

This episode was about their future car purchases, and as money
seemed no object the choice seemed to be between a Range Rover and a
Merc estate.

As money was not an object, the majority of the the programme was a
bit stuck when it came to the running costs angle, but hit more
promising ground on environmental (via a rather charming, if
centrally-cast munchkin from Greenpeace seen advertising npower for
free with a nice shot of their sponsored 'clamp' - who says there is
not always another agenda at work?) and then safety (trouble was it
applied more to those being hit than those in the SUV).

Despite this assault, they (much to the relief of the daughters, to
whom 'cool' was a major factor) 'decided' on the 4x4. Much grinning
all round. Wonder what the celeb and crew dove off in (Ms. Greenpeace
was on her bike, of course)?

Then next morning we had a piece on flowers, with a grower, a
distributor, a seller and a celeb. arranger (nice job, mate). Mid-way
into all the jollity, it cropped up ('scuse the pun) that a large
majority of our posy-culture is fed by blooms flown in from all over
the planet. So the question was asked; 'couldn't we just live, if at
great aesthetic (and career) costs, with the seasonal offerings from
our own shores to avoid the obvious massive eco-consequences?

The answer was of course... 'Que?'.

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