We live in The Age Of Complication. Everything is more difficult than it needs to be.
Television is not just television: it’s Netflix and live streaming and Foxtel and SBS 2 and Youtube channels and cable and satellite and goddamn television on your phone which just makes no sense.
Haircuts aren’t just ‘long’ or ‘short’ now either – there’s the lob, bob, shob, fringe, linge, blonde, bronde, and brown.
Buses don’t have tickets, water now has charcoal, and if you want to choose a date, you’ve got to choose a dating site first: Match.com, OKCupid, eHarmony, Zoosk, Tinder, Hinge, and Bumble.
And another thing that’s really freaking me out? MILK.
Milk is so longer just milk. It’s an ethical debate, an allergy, an analogy of Western over consumption.
Cow’s milk is out, and mother (nature’s) milk is IN.
The milk of most of our childhoods is now très passé. Most of the world is and/or claims to be allergic to it, with the other half preaching about its unethical and unsustainable nature.
And to be honest, seeing row after row of poor old heifers plugged into milk machines, treated like great heaving pieces of equipment whilst their calves go hungry? Well, I kinda agree.
So. If we’re not suckling on our mother’s teat (and if you’re reading this, I truly hope you are not) or glugging from a carton of cows milk, what the heck are we meant to be adding to our Milo?
The answer to that is longer than you might think.
Forget about just choosing between low fat, no fat, skim, or full cream: the milk selection currently on offer has exploded to such a large variety of sources, that you can only wonder whether we will one day start producing milk from paper pulp or leftover gravy.
In addition to agonising over homogenised or pasteurised, you can now take your pick from the following: