THE Caramac has gone. And now all there is left to do is wait for the rest of Western civilisation to inevitably follow.
Yesterday, Nestlé – a company accused of many crimes, but none more serious than this – announced that it was discontinuing the Caramac. Another pillar of the Enlightenment toppled.
To enter a corner shop and not see the familiar orange-and-yellow of the Caramac wrapper winking at us, a sight as British as a Royal guardsman, as a Tory MP sex scandal, as a modded-up Punto revving in an out-of-town retail park, is the beginning of the end.
Where now is our diversity, when only milk, white and plain chocolate are available? Where now the concern for the marginalised when a beloved bar can be shoved into the dustbin of history just because it isn’t bought much?
After the Caramac, the deluge. Within a decade everything we hold dear will be washed away. Your homes, your families, your democratic rights will all be lost now freedom’s last defender is gone.
Do not blame the Caramac. Its shoulders bore this burden alone for too long. Blame Nestlé, too blinded by profit. Blame the politicians, ignorant of the confectionary rock upon which Britain rested. But most of all blame your own, Wispa-distracted self.
You allowed the Caramac to slip away. You opened the gates to barbarians. And now, like Camelot, our civilisation falls.
