Before becoming an Average Food Critic I spent several years as a student of Philosophy. This was a very happy time, if by ‘happy’ one means crippling bouts of Imposter Syndrome and the urge to slam my head through a window every time someone picks up on some minor fallacy in what I had taken to be a normal conversation. You see, there is no such thing as a ‘normal conversation’ for Philosophy students. Philosophy students, despite purporting to study the most interesting subjects one can turn one’s mind to, are actually some of the most boring people you could ever hope to meet. Or maybe that’s just the students at Oxford. That’s right, I went to Oxford. AND JUST LOOK AT ME NOW!!
Anyway. Upon my philosophical travels I stumbled across a nice little logical number called The Law Of Non-Contradiction, which basically says that something cannot be both true and false. Or, if this sort of thing gets you hard: ~(p&~p). This ‘law’ seems utterly obvious, so much so that it is usually taken as an axiom upon which the entirety of rational thought and discussion is conducted.
Except it is false. Utterly, mind-bendingly, stultifyingly false. As false as Professor Falsey McFalse screaming ‘1+1=3!’ whilst levitating down False Boulevard. And here is the proof:
You see the thing about Wotsits is this: they are both food and not food! Let’s look at this logically (if by ‘logically’ you mean a semi-naked guy rambling half-heartedly into his laptop about baked snacks at 16:06 on a Friday afternoon). On the one hand, they clearly are food: you can buy them in supermarkets, which by their own admission stock food; they contain calories, and you put them in your mouth. Yes, it is very much true to say that Wotsits are food. Or, if this gets you moist: the sentence ‘Cheesy Wotsits are food’ expresses a true proposition.
And yet, given a moment’s thought, one can also come to see that Wotsits are not food. For one thing they are fluorescent, and it is a basic axiom of Average Foodology that anything that is fluorescent is not a food. But more importantly: they dematerialise in your mouth. In the parlance of contemporary metaphysics (the best of all the physicses), they are ‘Finkish’, meaning they embody a power that fails to operate at the precise moment at which the occasion for its manifestation comes about. So they are food, except when you put them in your mouth. Surely an item which you cannot eat is not food, so they are both food and not food!
There must be a PhD in this. Send your application into the University of Average Food. No need to put an address, the Postman (or woman) will know what to do with it.