Some Consumer Affairs

Some Consumer Affairs

I’ve tried to enjoy schlepping water, thinking that it serves to keep us to some human roots.

I

confess, after a class at Bikram in the Lanes, I just don’t enjoy being a mule and stopping at Tesco Express on Jubilee St for a pair of 5l mineral waters to carry home in my bike panniers. I’ve tried to enjoy it, thinking that schlepping water ⁠— Irit did it too using the bottom of the pram ⁠— serves to keep us to some human roots. But that’s daft. Surely we always strive to make our water carrying as easy as possible, notwithstanding a story I read lately (sorry, URL escapes me) about a village where after a year of piped water the elders decided to return to the way of walking a mile to the river, as it turned out the walk was the village’s social hub and without it had come strife; there are, so we like to think, by definition, always exceptions in human affairs.

Instead I tried ordering from Tesco Online. We used to do so from Sainsbury’s but stopped because of Irit’s frustration with substitutions and produce short of shelf life. We slightly prefer Tesco’s water anyway, and Sainsbury’s limits you to six 5l bottles. On Tesco’s site I kept adding bottles and got to ten before halting with the online shopper’s equivalent of awe. Is there even a limit? There are other staples we like from Tesco’s as well, such as their Normandy butter and stringy rather than mushy frozen spinach, and frequent half-price deals on Ben & Jerry’s (more frequent than Sainsbury’s? Probably slightly). The minimum payment for delivery is £3.50. At 10 bottles (storing more than that starts to become awkward or will require some thinking), this mishlocha la-mishpocha (“family delivery”) is costing me 70p for each easier bike ride home, with the bonus of all that other stuff delivered too. Mildly worthwhile and guilt-inducing both.

We did buy a Brita filter jug but there seem to be no numbers for how much chlorine it actually does filter. And I’m not pooh-poohing tap water per se ⁠— in both Glasgow and Amsterdam I remember it was lovely ⁠— but here in Brighton I just don’t find it so. And it seems to me that for the small amount of extra money in the monthly spending scheme of things, it’s worth drinking what you consider the best water easily available.

In an age where cancer is so prevalent, and in a household where a dog lost a limb to it, I’m wary of man-made things, and tap water is one of them. The sole water carrier isn’t about to go out of business if anyone gets ill. Maybe that’s paranoid but, after breathing, drinking is the most basic thing we do and if I have the energy to be overly prudent about one thing, let it be that.

Ben & Jerry’s: I now prefer Phish Food to Cookie Dough. I think this portends that I am on the way out.

The Trail

Sunday, June 21st, 2026

The Software Architect Elevator: Redefining the Architect’s Role in the Digital Enterprise

Gregor Hohpe

Engaging, pleasant, timely and knowing, I was nonetheless somewhat disappointed by the thinness of this book. That said, I’m about to read his next one, Platform Strategy, which is really is the one I wanted to read.

In his Contraptions substack, Venkatesh Rao notes an obvious split that I never fully saw: thinky versus writerly writers:

Those who write to think typically resist any attempt to change the content of what they’re saying, but generally don’t care about style, verbal precision, tightening, and pragmatic cutting suggestions to hit word-count limits.

Those who write to write are typically attached to every word and comma, but can be surprisingly indifferent to substantial content edits and highly open to saying entirely different things than they originally set out to.

I must be mostly of the latter, affirmed by my not having thought enough across the decades to even note the schism.

That said, the best writing is where the thinking may be primary but the author has been an artist over the supporting form.

Wednesday, June 17th, 2026

Amit Segal, longer than usual for his It’s Noon in Israel newsletter, posits the perennial faultline in Israel politics: Jewish vs Israeli.

“Jewish” and “Israeli” are simply the two tenets of Israel’s self-definition as a Jewish and democratic state ⁠— not in open contradiction, since most Israelis hold both, but forever rubbing against each other. Like asking whether strawberry-banana yogurt is more strawberry or banana, Israelis are endlessly asked, in one disguise or another, whether they are slightly more Jewish than democratic or the reverse. Once you see it, most of the news in the country ⁠— most push notifications, most studio shouting matches ⁠— dissolves into that same question, with a thin veneer of fresh event on top.

Segal himself straddles the divide nicely, as does the society writ large, part and parcel of the fading Ashkenazi/Sephardi divide. In my thin slice of observation, secular Israelis who delight in eating swine abroad now light candles and recite more complete prayers at home for Friday night dinner than they used to ⁠— indeed holding Friday night dinner itself is the gateway. And there are so many gateways.

I do however take issue with Amit’s characterization of the Israeli/left side:

Of course we are Jewish, the left answers ⁠— the flag is essentially a prayer shawl, the emblem is the Temple menorah, every kindergartner comes home Friday with a challah ⁠— but that is the décor, not the purpose; the purpose is to be the only democracy in the Middle East.

Instead, it seems to me that people on this side, those of the “villa in the jungle” view, would rather just forget about the jungle; being “the only X in the Middle East” is merely apologetics, not identity. Rather, it’s about being a liberal democracy simply because that is the enlightened, obvious, natural thing to be; anyone with a Yiddisher kopf can see that. And as for the Right downgrading democracy to merely being the operating system, well, that’s what Judaism itself arguably is too, so being the OS is no small thing.