Family conversation XI

Pim: Would you like to drive my car?
Kim: Actually, I´d prefer to drive Mim´s.
Pim: Mine is an automatic, so you wouldn´t have to bother about gears.
Kim: But that would require a shift in mindset.

Berry suspicious

While I was sprinkling Tibetan goji berries on my muesli this morning (actually, I lie, it was this afternoon), I pondered if eating them would be helpful or harmful to the people of Tibet. The fact that on the packaging it says: "Grown in Tibet (Product of China)" conjured up visions of Tibetan exploitation at the hands of the Chinese eager to supply Western markets with "the world´s highest antioxidant food!".

According to the "naturally goji" packaging: "The Oxygen Radical Absorption Capacity (ORAC) test is one of the most accurate ways to measure the levels of antioxidants in food. Goji berries contain an amazing 25 300 ORAC units per 100g, which is the highest antioxidant score of all kown foods. In comparison, blueberries contain 2 400 ORAC units per 100g."

Whatever. I received my goji berries as a gift from Kim on her recent visit. But they haven´t worked for her: during her stay she discovered that she is allergic to said berries (not to put too fine a point on it, they make her puke).

Now, I would never advocate using Wikipedia as a reliable source, but their article on goji berries does ring more true than the marketing drivel on sites such as this one.

Some of the more pertinent points:
* The goji berry is also known as the wolfberry or snowberry.
* Many goji berries are claimed to be "organic" when they are no such thing. (I no longer trust the USDA Organic sticker on my package of berries. I also find it suspicious that the original best before date, Oct 2008, has a sticker over it that reads: Oct 2009.)
* There is no such fruit as the "Tibetan" goji berry. This is a myth dreamed up by health-food marketers. "Tibetan" goji berries are most likely grown in China.
* Read more about the goji-berry scam here.

I guess I´ll finish my packet of goji berries. They´re kinda tasty and, although they don´t agree with Kim´s sensitive stomach, at least they´re not making me sick. But I don´t think I´ll be buying more any time soon. And I´m sure as hell hoping Manto doesn´t find out about them.

Hair today, Proust tomorrow

Sometimes people think I am shallow. You'll agree or disagree depending on where, when and how you know me. A couple of random quotes to illustrate the "shallow" hypothesis:

Kim: "When did you become so shallow?" (2004)

Early Bird: "When Theresa first started working in magazines she was an intellectual hippie from Grahamstown, but look how shallow she´s become!" (2006)

In 2005 Mim gave me a hair-straightener for my birthday. I was delighted with the present, and had painstakingly straightened locks for a month or so; then I shaved all my hair off. I also demanded (and received) the box set of In Search of Lost Time for Christmas - to pacify my pseudo-intellectual side. My hair has since grown back. And I´m only halfway through The Guermantes Way. But reading this poem, first brought to my attention by Early Bird, makes me feel better.

Anyway, while I was in London, my dear friend Caramello gave me a very generous voucher for my birthday. And it's not all about hair and lipstick, so I was glad it was for Waterstone's rather than The Bodyshop. A list of my purchases follows.

1. Complicity
Iain Banks
GX and I have a running argument as to whether Iain Banks or Iain M Banks is the better writer. Considering I have read only the former, and GX only the later, it's never gonna be settled until one of us becomes less precious about our selection of reading material.
2. Odd Girl Out
Anne Bannon
The first lesbian pulp fiction novel. Despite the wimpy main character and surprising lack of sex scenes, it's still a classic.
3. The Road to Oxiana
Robert Byron
The original Bruce. Byron is the hero of my hero, which makes him a super hero.
4. The Princess Bride
William Goldman
An epic tale of "true love and high adventure". I never tire of it.
5. Atomised
Michel Houellebecq
I revelled in discovering Houellebecq. But honestly, there´s only so much of ageing Frenchmen fucking hot young things that one can take before it begins to pall.
6. Confessions of Zeno
Italo Svevo
Actually the book I bought was called Zeno's Conscience, but I prefer the translation above. I first came across this novel through William Kentridge's opera, and have spent years searching for my own copy after UCT library rudely demanded I return the one that belonged to them, as well as issuing me with a hefty library fine. The book sits by my bed for the day or night when I am inspired to give up smoking. Until such a time, I am a devotee of the last-cigarette ritual.

'To reduce its outlandish appearance, I even tried to give a philosophical content to the last-cigarete disease. Striking a beautiful attitude, one says: "Never again." But what becomes of that attitude if the promise is then kept? It´s possible to strike the attitude only when you are obliged to renew the vow.'
pp 13 to 14

Right, it's 1:.29am on 27.03.08, hardly an auspicious date to give up smoking. So I'm off for a "last cigarette" before bed.