This Ramadan I kept watching the same thing happen. An AI generated character would lift food toward their mouth and then the shot would cut. Every time. The food never actually arrived. The Milo sachet sat on the table looking so perfect - it had no creases in the packaging. The Terra crayfish danced. The air fresheners glided across the screen. Nobody ate anything. Nobody touched anything. Everything was central, symmetrical, slightly too… still. I noticed it immediately. A

Call it trauma, but as a child I was always scolded for not finishing my food. --- My mum would make me sit there through the tears until it was mostly gone. For her, the sign of a healthy child was a chubby child who ate everything on their plate, even if they didn’t serve that quantity for themselves. The rule was simple: finish what is in front of you. You don’t waste food. You don’t leave the table. You finish it. It’s funny how these things stay with you. Because lately