Fish on Friday

Hello, Ms MacArthur? Hi, there. This is a courtesy call from ASDaTESCo. My name is—

ASDaTESCo. The Agency for Sport, Diet and Technology Empowering Scotland’s Citizens. My name is Aiden—

You know who we are, Ms MacArthur. Our representatives have had cause to contact you several times already this year. Well, that’s not very nice. We’re not Nazis. The ASDaTESCo initiative has been instrumental in transforming this nation from the Sick Men and Women of Europe into a horde of happy, healthy Hamishes. Yes. Yes, Hamishes. It’s from our advertising campaign. You must have seen it. Oh, you don’t watch telly? Having to go the bike to power it is too much of a palaver? Well I’m sorry to hear that; have you tried adjusting the—no, no. I see. That’s a shame. You’re missing out on a whole lot of entertaining and informative programming. Yes, true, much of it is sport-based, but studies have proved that competitive sport is far more inspirational than all those reality shows and soaps and nasty, fattening cookery programmes they used to show. Especially since the ASDaTESCo Sport-in-Schools initiative saw Scotland shoot to the top in so many fields of international competition. Our happy, healthy Hamishes are sport-mad. What, you didn’t even watch the World Cup Final? It was a classic. We were very unlucky. If it hadn’t been for that pen—no, okay, fine. Not everyone’s a sport fan.

Anyway, the reason for my call, Ms MacArthur, is not regarding your entertainment habits. It’s about your dietary ones. Our system has flagged that your refrigerator seems to have forgotten to order your fish for this coming Friday. Well, yes, it should be impossible. And it only happens in one household in the whole city: yours. Look, Ms MacArthur, we know all about your history in hacktivism…Don’t say that. We’re not spying on you. We’re not totalitarian oppressors. No, you’re not living in a jackbooted Orwellian nightmare state. Ms MacArthur, please let’s try and keep this conversation civil. We don’t want to have to impose sanctions on you again. Just accept that we’re aware of your history. Well, because you have a police record…and because you put hacktivist (retired) on your Social Housing application form. We know you can hack into our system, Ms MacArthur. A child could hack into our system. But they don’t, and do you know why? Because everybody likes the system. Everybody likes being happy and healthy.

Look, fish has many excellent health benefits – To be fair, it’s not entirely relevant that you don’t like it. It’s part of your Social Housing agreement that you consume foodstuffs from the approved list. Just like topping up your calorie bank using the bike so that you can watch TV, use the internet and, ha ha, obviously, open the fridge. No, I’m afraid the fish is non-negotiable. And look at what you’re missing! That haddock is reared right here in the River Clyde—It’s not a cesspit. The Clyde may have had a, ahem, murky past… That was a joke. Yes it was. Well, I thought it was funny. Anyway, nowadays the river is a paragon of sustainable aquatic ecosystems. It’s won awards. And the haddock are instrumental in—Don’t call them Frankenfish. It’s a simple and perfectly safe genetic modification that helps them grow big and tasty. Yes, big and— No, I hadn’t heard that. A child? Oh, that’s awful. I can’t believe I didn’t hear about that in the news… Just a minute, there’s no record of a haddock eating a little— Miss MacArthur, are you pulling my leg? No, it couldn’t happen. They’re not monsters, they’re just big fish. Believe me the river is perfectly safe and clean. That scummy stuff? Ms MacArthur, the Glasgow Green algae farms are central to the city’s sustainability. The algae purifies the water, increases O₂ levels in the city centre and is a vital component of those mealworm burgers that you enjoy so much. Well, you eat enough of them. Yes, I know you have to. Yes, indeed, the approved list.

Oh, wouldn’t you just? Yes, we noticed the fillet steak on your fridge’s order in place of the fish, of course. What, in place? No that wasn’t a joke. And neither is ordering steak of all things! You know that red meat is most definitely not on the approved list. Why? Because it’s one of the most harmful, environmentally unsound, and ideologically objectionable sources of protein in human history, that’s why. Look, I know you’re an educated woman, Ms MacArthur. You can’t deny that the ban on farming large herds of costly mammals that did little more than transform perfectly tasty and nutritious vegetables and grains into health-toxic meat and environmentally disastrous quantities of methane gas is beneficial not only to our own nation, but to the planet. Hmm? What do you say to that?

Tasty? Ugh! I can’t believe—I wouldn’t want to try it. It’s barbaric…

Ms MacArthur, I have to apologise. That was an unkind and unprofessional thing to say, and reflects badly on me as a government-partner representative, a member of the Institute of Professional Customer Advisors and a happy, healthy Hamish. We understand that older citizens such as yourself still have difficulties adjusting to the new Scotland. The changes that swept through our society after independence were more extensive than anyone could have forecast. For younger generations, the way we live now—as a fit, healthy, caring, sharing, socialistic society where everyone gets not what they want but what they need—seems natural, but for people like your good self who remember the bad old days of apathy, obesity and dietary catastrophe, it must have come as a terrible shock. Scotland is the envy of Europe now—I’m sorry? I’m giving you the what? The boak? I’m sorry, I don’t understand.

Yes. Yes, that’s perfectly true. Technically, my organisation, in its previous incarnations as leading chain supermarkets did largely dictate the national diet on a for-profit basis. And their aggressive monopolisation strategies were a factor in ridding the high street of its beloved independent traders. Yes, the butchers and the grocers and the fishmongers and, that’s right, the corner shops and the…sorry? What was a chip shop again? Why are you laughing? But that was the old Scotland, Ms MacArthur. The old way of doing things. There was too much choice, and that allowed people to make poor choices. Yes, the Scottish Government knew that the ASDaTESCo name might retain negative connotations, but at the time they bought out the stores and supply chains from their owners it was deemed advantageous to ease the transition by retaining the branding. And not only that, redefining the names of those two old monsters was a symbol of how we have redefined the attitudes to health and nutrition across the whole country. With the ASDaTESCo initiative, every Scottish man, woman and child gets cheap, healthy, varied and one hundred per cent locally-sourced food delivered to their home automatically as part of their citizenship contract, which also includes their home, appliances and, guaranteed, the minimum amount of exercise required to keep them healthy and happy. Yes, those letters used to represent many bad things, but not any more.

So, can we agree there’ll be no more hacking your fridge’s ordering script, Ms MacArthur. Hmm, please? We really don’t want to put you on a week of double exercise again. No you didn’t almost starve last time. You had all the krillcakes you could possibly eat, and you had unlimited access to the contents of your fridge. All you needed to do was pedal a little. Oh, Ms MacArthur, that’s simply not true. You’re not a frail old woman. Your health report says there’s plenty of pedalling in those legs of yours yet, and you’ve three years until you qualify for a visiting old-person’s calorie donor. No, I’m sorry I don’t know if they wear tight shorts. What a question to ask. Look, if you’re not keen on pedalling the bike do you know that there are other ways you can add to your calorie bank? Many of your neighbours, for example, put in a few hours a week tending the locust farm on the roof of your building. The work’s not too taxing and you get the added bonus of doing your bit for the city’s food bank.

Ms MacArthur, are you all right? Are you crying? Oh, look, I’m sorry if I’ve been a little stern with you, but it really is for your own good— I know, it’s difficult. I know, you just want things to be how they used to be. But really, I promise you it’s better this way. Look at yourself! How many ninety seven year olds were as fit and able as you are now back in the bad old days? There you are, see? I told you it makes sense. We’re fortunate to be living in these times, Ms MacArthur, very fortunate indeed.

So. Please. No more steaks? Or, any of the other things that have mysteriously crept in there over the months, let me see… mutton pies, beef olives… traditional haggis, you scallywag. Even if the system let these things through to the ordering script, I don’t know where on Earth it would get them from, I really don’t.

Okay, thank you. Good. So your next delivery will include the haddock, as originally intended. Just try it. I’m sure it’s not as bad as you think. Will you? For me? Good! I’m proud of you. We’ll make you a happy, healthy Hamish yet.

Oh, before I go, I’ve just noticed that there seems to be an error of, goodness me, a factor of ten in your cooking oil. I’ll just amend—No? Oh, you use it for lubricating the bike? And that works, does it? Well, that’s very of resourceful of you. Waste not, want not. Absolutely. To be honest, the approved gear oil is rather expensive. Well, in that case I’ll leave it be. It’s not as if you’re going to cook anything with it, after all. Ha, ha. Well, I’m glad we managed to see eye to eye at last. Have a happy, healthy day, Ms MacArthur.

Goodbye.