Cordial juice is quite a weird thing. It’s fruit juice, but it isn’t fruit juice… except it is. Rumour has it, if you drink cordial by itself your face will enter into a far-reaching range of hilariously disturbing spasms which will leave you dribbling like an idiot. Indeed, you must add water to make cordial safe for human consumption.
Off on a different tangent here, we’re trying out a new blog layout today. Normally we have a screen dominating picture to greet you, but after receiving no complaints about this we figured you’re all too cordial and have attempted this new look. Well, “new” isn’t accurate as we used to do this with our old blog posts. We did it for years! Then we went with the full screen images, but we thought we’d try this today. It’s the peril of running a website.
A picture of some cordial on a conveyor belt simply isn’t worthy of a screen dominating picture, you know? Cordial simply isn’t all that interesting, it’s simply an ultra-concentrated fruit juice which has had 400g of sugar added to it to keep children quiet for a few minutes during the summer months.
Anyway, we created cordial cordial for the polite people in this world. You know who you are, you’re the ones who queue patiently, watch what you’re doing when you’re walking (i.e not stopping abruptly to check your phone), you chew with your mouth closed, and you don’t hold a political debate with your friend at the cinema during the latest blockbuster movie. This drink is for you!
It’s not so much a recipe. It’s more a hint towards a society which would be better: nobody talking, everyone avoiding each other, and sickening politeness as far as the eye can see. There’s no compromise here – loudmouth extroverts can get lost from this utopian society. Indeed, the future is for the introverts one step at a time, and the first step is through concentrated fruit juices.
What The Hell Are You On About?!
Good question, with no real answer. You see, “they” say society is three meals away from a revolution. Deprive everyone of food for a few days, and Eddie Izzard becomes the Mayor of London. Do the same with cordial drinks and there’s a slightly more muted reaction. By this we mean no one, except five year olds overdosing on sugary badness, would give a damn.
No offence to Ribena or anything, but cordial (even our glorious recipe – cordial cordial) isn’t the stuff of legend. It’s the stuff of restrained applause, reserved laughter, a satisfactory grin rather than a hysterical screech, and a disdainful grimace at anyone who dares answer their phone on public transport. This is the future, and it’s cordial, muted, and Selfie free. Kind of like the Queen, but without the glasses or staggering wealth through hereditary privilege.