Ah Lidl. I just can't stay away. This place is as crazily meaningless in a profoundly futuristic sort of way as the reading of a day-old horoscope is from Metro.
Where else but Lidl will I find out what a loveable mixed-up place the world has become and discover at the same time what the future holds for us all? Think I am wrong? They recently very kindly warned us of the impending trouble at the G20. Crash helmets. You know they made sense.
Worryingly, they are still on sale. Maybe Lidl are expecting further trouble we aren't yet aware of. Whatever the causes, it looks like its The Big One, if the rest of the offers aisle is a clue.
Prognostication is an important theme here. Look ahead (binoculars ₤14.99) and be prepared. Why else would they be stocking up on personal weather stations for ₤14.76? For that you get a three year warranty - any longer would be pointless given the end-of-the-world-forecast by the Mayans for 2012. It comes with a thermometer to check out the global warming and a hygrometer, to check-out how sticky things are. It gives you weather forecasts, sunrise and sunset times, (to keep tabs on any local curfews), tide phases, (to see if that wall of water is a tsunami or just a run of the mill rising sea level), moon phases, (to remind you to lock your front door when the nutters are about), a frost alarm, (in case there's an ice age), and even an alarm clock, (so those of us left with gainful employment will make sure we get up on time). Lidl does it again, fulfilling needs we didn't even know we had yet.
What about the pre-Olympic running shorts, walking stick and leg pillow combination; or the Q and A book on 'The Earth' (₤3.90) to read under the ₤3.40 mini umbrella while balanced on a unicycle (₤34.99) when the skies open up and the great flood begins?
Most thoughtful of all, for all those bankers out there who have not yet destroyed the evidence, is the strip-cut document shredder for ₤8.80.
And just in case we don't know why the weather forecaster is needed and the world is going to pot, there by the till, we have an answer, a symbol of the causes of all this madness: Individually plastic wrapped California prunes, further encased in a plastic tube, weighing 200grammes and shipped halfway round the world to be ignored by the punters of Walthamstow for 99p.
And finally, a word about our sponsors: