Many of my friends have expressed worry at the changes on this blog over the last four years. What, they wonder, has happened to me? Don't I care any longer about the causes I used to support? Am I no longer a crusader for truth, justice, and pie? Where is my concern? Where is my passion?
Well okay then. I can understand that.
Rest assured that nothing has really changed. I still care profoundly and passionately about everything. Politics, the Middle East, dipwads in Berkeley, and especially sex, food, and love in a hot climate.
Oh, and pipe tobacco.
Plus pie.
It's just that this blog was beginning to sound like a broken record, much like everyone's facebook feed. Same damned calls to arms, same accusations of political knavery, and the same neurotic worries.
Everything basically becomes Bernie Sanders.
Or Trump. Or Hillary's e-mail.
Pythons in Florida.
Oh well.
SEX, FOOD, AND LOVE IN A HOT CLIMATE
You know, I'd love to write something deeply meaningful about sex, except that A) there has been absolutely none of that in a long time, and B) other auteurs do a far better job out of making what is a wonderful and happy play-activity seem seedy, depressing, and unappealing.
Same goes for food. The rise of cooking shows has made the entire subject tedious. Overindulgence with Guy Fieriririry, violent kitchen behaviour with some English yobbo who hates yanks, the all-avocado channel, and inedible regional specialties you should run away from.
Love during warm weather requires air-conditioning or ice-cubes.
The hugely depressing deficit in the sex thing has not been because of disinterest or inability, merely a staggering lack of opportunity. If the right person magically appeared, things would be different.
And if wishes were wings, pigs might fly.
Food, as a blog-subject, has limitations.
And love, all things considered, is one of the most nauseating subjects on the planet. Countless soft-in-the-heads have transformed what might once have been a serious item of consideration into a festering dungheap of tawdry pablum. A sugary sewer.
Do you really need a love-motif to come here?
Are the hero's adventures pointless without a busty blonde?
Well then, a movie script:
DIAMOND EYES
They had loved each other since junior high. She gazed into his eyes while they shared a hot dog. During college, they seldom saw each other, except at church meetings. Where he gazed into her eyes, as long as no one was watching, like in the vestry. Love went on the backburner as both of them ate pizza and studied for their exams.
After graduation, he went into finance, she became a nurse. Years later he fled the country because his white collar crime spree had been found out. While on the run in Africa, he met a nurse in a clinic where he went for a case of food-poisoning (he thought it was brain-fever). They recognized each other, and gazed into each other's eyes. Over chicken and jollof rice (with fried plantains), they suddenly realized that they had always loved each other.
He then saved her from terrorists and Russians, and a subsequent presidential pardon made everything okay. While they were on their honeymoon in the south of France, he conned the Emir of Hatay out of twenty billion to fund a penguin sanctuary.
Following that, they were on the run again.
And live happily ever after.
It's heartwarming, and romantic.
And sort of about food and sex.
There are far worse things to hold the public's profound disinterest than pipe tobacco and milk tea.
And if there were any sex to write about, you would never see it mentioned here.
At this very moment, I would really like some pie.
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TIME FOR CHUFFING!
It gets dark so early nowadays. When I left for the bus it was already pitchblack. But not raining. An hour earlier looking west from the fr...
3 comments:
Politics are of more universal interest than, for example, what you put in your mouth on any particular day.
Politics are better served elsewhere. Have you checked facebook? Or the comment-strings underneath major sites like the Huffington Post, The Blaze, Drudge Report, and others of that ilk?
And political "interest" is momentary at best, of a purely temporary relevance, and not worth re-reading after events have passed. Not even for the whacked-out paranoid fury by the commenters underneath each article.
If you like repetitiveness and desire constant exposure to crazy (and enjoy counting examples of Godwin's Law), by all means read political reportage.
Suppose, for example, that I wrote a post arguing that Obama is NOT a member of the Muslim Brotherhood, was perfectly eligible for the presidency, and had no intention of declaring martial law.
Some people would agree, but wonder why I would bother mentioning any of that. Others would disagree, and would either move along sniffily, and not re-visit, OR start screaming obscenities and mashing their keyboard.
The comment string that ensued would be only momentarily interesting at best.
If anybody reread that post years later, it would probably be a troll or mama's basement dweller with shit for a social life and disturbing tendencies.
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