Whilst this sounds like a ringing endorsement of the wonders of nutritional supplements, really it is a combined shriek of frustration and an a big ah-ha moment. It all leaves me thinking “well if this isn’t a con, then what else isn’t a con too?” I’ve had a few suggestions, with “Jesus” being the most worrying (If that’s all real then I’m stuffed!)

We talked about this recently at the Sydney Less Wrong meetup, and one guy admitted to discovering that he’d been tying his shoelaces wrong all his life. We didn’t manage to work out a way to find out how to tell if your brain is lying to you about non-cons and things that you are telling yourself that you are doing right, but are really doing wrong. I’m starting to really distrust my brain.

What else isn’t a con? Any suggestions? I don’t want to miss out any more on the good stuff.

I now find myself ten years later, still not eating their food, and trying to come up with a rational explanation why. I’ve found that especially difficult, and I’m still not convinced that I’ve managed it.

The ethical concerns that I had are now not really an issue. Their produce, particularly the beef, now comes from within the country (at least in the UK), so rain forest slash and burn isn’t an issue. Their staff aren’t being ‘exploited’ they are all free to leave and go and work somewhere else or take benefits – so actually they have more options than if they didn’t work there.

The health concerns still seem valid, but given that I have a tendency to eat terrible food when I’m working hard, forget meals on a regular basis, and generally have a pretty horrific nutritional track record, I don’t see how eating an extra value meal once in a while could cause me any extra harm (it might even be better for me than eating a big bag of crisps instead of dinner).

Puya, one of my students at UTS, mentioned something in a blog post about social collapse that gave me a passable reason for my behaviour. In his presentation at the Global Catastrophic Risks conference, Robin Hanson mentioned the wisdom of stairs¹.

The main reason to be careful when you walk up a flight of stairs is not that you mightslip and have to retrace one step, but rather that the first slip might cause a second slip, and so on until you fall dozens of steps and break your neck

I suppose that my argument is that as I have a very addictive (but lazy) personality², I might  start eating at McDonalds and turn it into a habit. This seems to be a weak argument given my feelings about Starbucks (which I’ll probably write about soon too) but for now I’m going to play it safe just in case.

The initial plan was to do all 8 cafes on the disloyalty card, but as The Whitecross Coffee Cart isn’t there on Saturdays, lets start the loop at Prufrock Coffee.

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We’ll cut the west London cafes off and you can visit them at your leisure to fill up the card.

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So in true boys own style, the adventure starts at Prufrock - 140 Shoreditch High st (that’s A on the map) at 10:30 this Saturday (the 23^rd)

I’m in two minds as to transport, bikes or feet, so bring your bike, and if people want to walk you can push it, but if people want to ride then you’ll have to get a backie!

I’m hoping to tart it up a bit soon so that it looks as beautiful as it deserves to be, but for the time being,  here’s the version that saw daily abuse in those heady days.

If you are still reading after that insane babbling, then you must be wondering where this is going and what it as to do with crayfish. Well, Mr Fearnley -Whittingstall says that there is good eating on a crayfish, I like eating. He also says that I could catch myself one in a river for free, I like free.

Free is all relative though, as John frequently pointed out throughout the endeavour of thinking about catching, building traps to catch, and ultimately catching crayfish, I could have bought an entire jar of tails for £1.50 from lidl so it seems crazy to have whacked £30 at homebase on a load of wire netting, rope and catfood. I suppose I need to put a price on entertainment though.

We made our little mesh tubes, put a sock full of cat food into each one, tied them like pearls all along a rope, and lobbed them into the river, just about here, and went off to have our dinner. The next morning, much to my great thrill, a gargantuan catch of not a mere 5 cray fish, not even a mere 10! I pulled up the pots to reveal a solitary, but very angry looking, brown armoured battle prawn. he then added insult to injury by jumping out of the pot while I was taking photos.

The traps were reset, and fingers crossed.

That evening we headed down (in the car, so add fuel costs to the price of the dinner) and pulled in another solitary crayfish. The disappointment of this was tempered by the fact that John fell in the river.

Once we got it home and chilled it out I tipped it into a big pot of boiling water. The shell went very pink almost instantly, and after a couple of minutes we pulled it out and ate the tail and the claws. The meat in the claws is incredibly sweet, and the tail wasn’t far behind.

If the motivation takes me again, I’ll reset the traps and try and find another one, to halve the price of this one!

This crayfish was the first thing I’ve ever killed with the intent of eating it. It was a bit odd, and I’ll report back another time about how I’m dealing with the dilemma.

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