This blog covers everything except sports and gardening, unless we find a really good link about using dead professional bowlers for mulch. The author is a StarTribune columnist, has been passing off fiction and hyperbole as insight since 1997, has run his own website since the Jurassic era of AOL, and was online when today’s college sophomores were a year away from being born. So get off his lawn.
I don’t get it. I can’t begin to figure out what I should be getting.
I cannot possibly imagine a sequence of events that would lead a hit man staffing an ice-cream counter to conclude that the customer had requested the leg of a dead man in a bucket.
MOVIES A Telegraph blogger asks a question about horrible movies set in ancient times, and he’s quite serious:
But why do they go on making these awful, stagey films with the same faults that continue from decade to decade – hammed-up dialogue, the same gladiator fights, the same lightly-oiled slave girls, the same beefcakes with tridents?
Can’t possibly imagine why.
Nevertheless, he makes a good point; from all accounts “Pompeii,” the subject of his plaintive cry, was awful, and a missed opportunity. I’ll still see it, because the subject is fascinating, but it’ll be mixed with annoyance because it means they won’t do another Pompeii movie for 15 years. That one will be IMAX immersive holographic 3D, with stones and ash falling all around you. Which actually sounds really unpleasant, now that I think about it. So I’ll wait for it to come out for home streaming.
DESTRUCTION Forgot to post this yesterday: from Saturday’s demolition of the ugly Strib Brick Dullard.
YUM A few months ago I mentioned the fellow who thought food was a waste of time, and came up with a nutritious slurry that replaced the tedium of preparing and consuming meals. The inventor actually calls it Soylent. If it suits his needs, great. Bottoms up. But the number of people who will follow is example is quite small, because people like to eat.
Now it’s the New Yorker’s turn to pretend this is important, or a trend, or possibly both.
Soylent has been heralded by the press as “the end of food,” which is a somewhat bleak prospect. It conjures up visions of a world devoid of pizza parlors and taco stands—our kitchens stocked with beige powder instead of banana bread, our spaghetti nights and ice-cream socials replaced by evenings sipping sludge. But, Rhinehart says, that’s not exactly his vision. “Most of people’s meals are forgotten,” he told me. He imagines that, in the future, “we’ll see a separation between our meals for utility and function, and our meals for experience and socialization.”
No, we won’t. At least not any more than we have now, when the sandwich-at-the-desk keeps you going through noon if you’ve lots of work to do. Provided you’re not distracted by the roller-coaster emotions brought on by insufficient mayo - but more on that in a moment.
The headline is actually “Could Soylent Replace Food?” It could, in the sense that shoes could replace mittens, but it’s not likely. More:
People tend to find the taste of Soylent to be familiar: the predominant sensation is one of doughiness. The liquid is smooth but grainy in your mouth, and it has a yeasty, comforting blandness about it.
Put down that Sriracha, America: we’ve got a food replacement whose blandness isn’t just comforting, but yeasty.
As the writer explores the Soylent lifestyle, disenchantment sets in.
You begin to realize how much of your day revolves around food. Meals provide punctuation to our lives: we’re constantly recovering from them, anticipating them, riding the emotional ups and downs of a good or a bad sandwich.
I have never cried at my desk because of sandwich disappointment, nor felt like bursting into song because the lettuce was crisp.
With a bottle of Soylent on your desk, time stretches before you, featureless and a little sad. On Saturday, I woke up and sipped a glass of Soylent. What to do? Breakfast wasn’t an issue. Neither was lunch. I had work to do, but I didn’t want to do it, so I went out for coffee.
This is the point where one realizes how silly this is, right? Where the writer comes to her senses and runs into a bakery and has three cronuts, right?
On the way there, I passed my neighborhood bagel place, where I saw someone ordering my usual breakfast: a bagel with butter. I watched with envy. I wasn’t hungry, and I knew that I was better off than the bagel eater: the Soylent was cheaper, and it had provided me with fewer empty calories and much better nutrition. Buttered bagels aren’t even that great; I shouldn’t be eating them. But Soylent makes you realize how many daily indulgences we allow ourselves in the name of sustenance.
It’s called “Being a sentient creature at the top of the food chain in a developed industrial society with a functioning economy.” It turns the chore of subsistence into civilized pleasures. It's still worth a read, thoughm and note the end: Soylent literally is people.
VotDThere are days I want to drive a scooter; thank heavens there are videos like this to dissuade me. Unlikely this would happen to me. Unlikely it’ll ever happen to anyone again.
China, supposedly. In accordance with the laws of cartoons, he popped out of a hole in Kansas.
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