Re-Boots

I was wandering through a shopping mall, or a centre, or a center

I hope that was universally fragmented enough of a language sentence

I saw a Boots, but it wasn't just any Boots, it went on forever, I could barely make out the pharmacy sign at the back, if that was indeed the back.

It had signs on the aisles that I never saw before, segmentations to the nth degree, Skincare, Luxury Healthcare, Healthy Skincare, Healthy Living, Healthy Care

Stay well for winter

Boots will make it better

A proposal: all shops should be this large, and segmentations this deep

The confusion of large retail should seep into everything

Shopping should become a physical ordeal, a mental strain

Aisles arranged in a perverse but solid logic

A puzzle, a series of riddles

Maximum distances between frequently brought products

They should all be like this, every shop, even the little corner shop, or a restaurant, everything should require at least a mile of walking a visit, and 20 minutes of intensive comparative value assessments, 10 minutes of spatial navigation and 5 minutes of territorial domination.

I think the shop should bring elements of the hunt, that hunt we have stuck inside our DNA, scarcity should be tactically placed to ensure everyone gets into at least one fight over a product

I should come back from the shop exhausted and spent, stimulated by a successful hunt and hoard, brain flexed by maths, spatio-temporal memory and combat tactics.

Every shop, every interaction, maybe capitalism will flourish if we allowed it to nourish our base urges unapologetically and universally. We would all be smarter, physically fitter and healthier, closer to perfect customers, perfect value discoverers.

Maybe then we would all go home from our hunts, stress released, mind stimulated, nothing repressed, all released.

And with a clear and satiated soul, minds unsullied by impulses of zero-sum tribalism, we make sure we pay our taxes, and support those who have needs they struggle to achieve themselves.

We turn our tepid transactional territories into one of a raw consumerist jungle, naked and unafraid, uncivilised and perilous.

So that we can then find that cerebral heart, the one that loves in chords and harmonies, the one that can see others as part of themselves and fear nothing, no longer hide in an internal web of mangled untruths, a pathetic personal jungle of imagined fears and threats, bring the jungle out into the supermarkets, restaurants, streets, parks, petrol stations.

Bring the jungle out and let it play out in physical world, where lies and deceit evaporate in the strain of a muscle and the sky being blue.

Beaten raw with impacts, sore and differences resolved, nothing is left but high elation, the animal rests, the emergent soul unencumbered, ice cold water, smooth and soothing, refreshes the populace.

It is for that reason that on seeing a Friends branded 'Clean like Monica' body polish I proceeded to beat every patron and member of staff in the Boots to the ground.

After checking they were all still breathing, I went home and sent warm, moving, life-altering messages to everyone in my life and out my life.