Next year, same time, things will probably be somewhat different from where I am now. These are the attempts to write an entertaining collection of meaningless contemplations and tales leading up to the coming changes...
This event, being my first extrahollandial move, requires a lot of ties to cut loose. Ties include the emotional ones, such as letting go of the local elevator surfing elderlies and my much beloved local Hoogvliet-supermarket. No in fact... scrap that. I will definitely not miss the Hoogvliet with it's uberannoying puppet theaters.
For those unfamiliar with the Hoogvliet puppet phenomenon (and hopefully that's most of you), one can find a bunch of puppets who sing to kids (I presume) about all the fantastic products the Hoogvliet has to offer.
The irony of it all is that these puppets are singing in a eerie kind of self referential way; pink fluffy pigs sing about the great pork chops available, and cows praise the slabs of beef below their hoofs. It's almost too much like walking into the restaurant at the end of the galaxy.
The latest development is that these puppets apparently have developed a sense of intelligence and loyalty to their own kind. If I recall correctly, the pigs are praising the beef instead of the pork chops these days... I'm not sure if the cows caught on this new sense of animal equality, since they sheepishly started singing about attractiveness of the (unrepresented) chicken department.
I can only imagine the intentions of the marketing guru who came up with this mind blowing idea, that it might be nice to have animals advertise their own bloody limbs. I suspect he / she must have had a dubious career in solving potential traffic jams, since the only confirmed effect of this entertainment is that whenever these puppets start chanting their slaughterhouse anthem, people scramble to get out of that place as fast as possible.
Hopefully the Canadian supermarkets have not discovered this untapped PR potential yet, as I'm really looking forward to be able to shop without a fluffy Moose yelping aboot the benefits of eating its own rear end.
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