Strawberry Jam is firstly a preserve, secondly a spread and thirdly a filling.
This is no natural history, review or criticism of Strawberry Jam; Jam is not the kind of topic to lend itself to essay writing.
Let us begin with the Strawberry. Strawberries are green before they are red, is this relevant? No.
Have you ever sniffed the holes in the plastic box containing strawberries in the supermarket? Yes you have.
Strawberry; it’s the fruit you hope you’d be. You thought it was a peach but then you remembered the itchy fur on your lip, the bruises and the hidden mould in the stone. Peaches are a disappointment, they are the promise of handwritten letters and the delivery of takeaway menus. Don’t ever think about peaches again, the bastards.
I’m not going to list all the incredible things strawberries have done for you, you are already thinking of about a thousand of them right now. Right now you’re associating them with the better episodes of your childhood, the parts when mum and dad got on and you all had a nice holiday in a musty caravan. Now you’re thinking about country roads with laybys full of the things arranged in cardboard punnets, you stopped the car and bought some for your lover, they had sex with you later that day, do you know for certain that it was unrelated? You love strawberries, you owe strawberries, don’t fight it, by the end of this sentence you may already by crying floods of tears for joy or sorrow in the name of strawberries.
Now pull yourself together.
Foreigners don’t get them. Not like we do. Don’t tense up, this is the one subject on which it’s okay to be racist. They come over here, eating our strawberries, you fucking hate it, don’t lie, you’re livid.
Now we’ve established the role of the strawberry with regards jam, you will have a deeper understanding of life.
Strawberry jam; It’s your favourite, if you say it isn’t, you’ve got no friends; this is not a coincidence.
When fed to laboratory rats, scientists didn’t notice any difference in their behaviour, this is because the scientists were not fed strawberry jam. In fact, the rats were having a scientifically, much better time than before. This is why scientists are a waste of time and money that should be spent making strawberry jam. Not that I am suggesting scientists should make jam; it would be shit.
Grannies make strawberry jam, grannies clad in home crocheted shawls and sheepskin slippers, not grannies in two piece cardigan sets and pearls from John Lewis, these grannies have sacrificed the art of fruit preservation for the art of image preservation.
Remember World War II? No you don’t, you’re not that old, but you’ve heard some stuff about it, atmospheric stuff, involving rotary planes, digging fields and hating other nations; you feel like you remember it.
People in Britain used to be nice to each other, even in cities, even up north. Women worked in the strawberry fields and Grannies made the strawberry jam. The women sent the strawberry jam to the front line, soldiers died with sticky fingers and seeds still stuck in their teeth, but they died happy.
These are not facts, this is just what you happen to be reading, it’s not the label on a jar of Strawberry Jam; the best jars don’t have labels.
Picnics. There, I said it. Picnics are a reason for living, there aren’t many.
Wasps; kill them all, kill them with your newspapers, kill them with your badminton rackets, kill them with your bare hands if you have to. I don’t care how you do it but if they’re not all dead by the time I get to the strawberry jam I’ll fucking kill you.
Grass, take hold of grass and smell it with your face, it’s like you’ve sniffed your absent soul back into your body. Now you’ve got your soul back, you’re fucking starving, you’ve got scones, you’ve got clotted cream. What would happen if you didn’t have strawberry jam? You’d kick off, you’d rant and rave and throw the creamy scone at nature. Your soul would get the fuck out of you and back into the grass.
This is no natural history, review or criticism of strawberry jam. I’m not suggesting an epiphany is taking place within you, I’m frankly surprised you’ve read this far; it’s not often you find a reader with an appreciation for what is truly important literature.
The Bible mentions strawberry jam, I won’t say where, you can find it your-bloody-self.
You don’t know the purpose of your life, you’ve wondered about it, you’ve tried to believe in God but it’s far-fetched, all you can grasp is that something spiritual exists and it basically boils down to strawberry jam.

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