Hyperbolic biscuits mixed with historical banter!

Double Vision with Charlie Adley

The other night I was spacing out in front of the fire, staring at a box of Marks and Sparks ‘Extremely Chocolatey Milk Chocolate All Butter Biscuits’ on the coffee table.

Wonderful, I mused. They’ve called their biscuits exactly what their customers want to see.

Imagine a brave new world where the Nanny State runs amok and truth rules. How much would you want to reach for ‘Fat Free But Stuffed With Tons Of Sugar So You’ll Still Be A Fat Basstid Frozen Yoghurt’, or, as The Snapper suggested, ‘Incredibly Addictive Diet Cola Crammed With Known Carcinogens.’

There would be ‘We’re Invading This Desert Nation For Its Oil And We Need To Showcase Our New Weaponry War’.

Irish elections would be contested between the ‘There’s Bugger All Difference Between Us And Them Party’, the ‘We’ll Screw You In A Different Way To Them Party’, and the ‘We Collectively Sound Like Miracle Workers But We Don’t Have The Money To Make It Work Alliance’.

Within the self-serving confines of the Irish legal system, tribunals would become ‘Lawyers Feeding Frenzy With No Chance Of Prison Or Even A Meaningful Verdict Fiasco’.

We’d have the ‘We’ve Got A Richer Foreign Criminal Than You So We’ll Win It Premier League’, while Irish and Australian teams would play the ‘We’re Just Going To Beat The Crap Out Of Each Other International Rules Test Match’.

Evidently, M&S think their customers incapable of grasping the fairly simple idea that there’s a whole heap of chocolate on these biscuits, because below their extremely explicative name on the box, yet another line of copy claims: “MORE CHOCOLATE THAN BISCUIT.”

Whoosh … my brain’s lost, pondering the deep philosophical matter of whether a chocolate biscuit can actually still be a biscuit, if it is “MORE CHOCOLATE THAN BISCUIT”.

Truth be told, I don’t know what’s worse: the way my tiny mind works, or that I share it in public.

So rarely in life do you get to say the funny clever thing at the right time. When somebody upsets you or when you feel you have a point to make, the words just don’t come. You dip your chin in the face of your enemy, or flee from debate, because in the heat of battle your brain dries up.

To read Charlie’s column in full, please see this week’s Galway City Tribune.