Non specific rant

A potent mixture of soup and Puddledub chicken and haggis.

Call any vegetable: So rather than spend time grappling with travel and technology I've taken time to being with some vegetables (in a fairly honest and non sexual way). Usually I turn them into a primitive soup. I admire their dirty honesty and peculiar shapes and names, how they are mostly non poisonous and how they appear year after year from the muddy, soaking and unforgiving ground. A mysterious and dark breeding ground of dishonest minerals, creepy crawlies and dead bodies. It makes little sense but thankfully it occurs regularly. The planet like some great groaning and growing machine pushes them up from under it's skin like pimples and acne and onto the chopping board. Chefs will swoon and croon about freshness and flavour and frantically slice technicolor pieces taking precise times and salted butter and cast iron pots to fuse them into abstract constructions. Then animal muscles and flesh are added in and it goes on and on via exclusive menus and reviews into eager diners bellys, or into ladles and  industrial packages and distribution systems. Sadly the sophisticated distribution that gets a lettuce from Kenya to  here in 8 hours can't quite work in reverse with food, clean water and medicine. Feeding the world from the world is an honest (thanks to labels and packaging) but corrupted industry. I imagine there would be enough vegetables in the world right now to give everybody who needs one a decent bowl of soup. I don't quite know why but despite having over forty billionaires in the UK and many more willing cheaper hands we can't manage that yet.