All posts in January 2013

Did you know cat tails are edible?

Duuhhduhhnuhh gahhdaiizz urrhhh duhbull?

I am waiting for the picture of something that might once have been a potato. Or might have been something else. How do we tell the enemy from a strange, hairy guy on the street? How do we know if the horrific smell from the cupboard is a potato, maybe a potato infested by mystery microbes, but still at the heart of things a potato? When does a potato cease to be a potato? When it ceases to be edible? When it ceases to resemble a potato? Does it remain a potato even when it has become unrecognizable by any of the standard potato tests?

While we are attacking the big questions, we need to think about this one: At what point does a man cease to be man and become a zombie instead? Clearly, we are expecting some sort of transitional phase in the zombification process. How will we know when that phase has ended? Most men are far more complex than potatoes and an edibility test will never fully meet our needs.

What kind of test should we devise?

A Cheesburger pic that asks a couple of fine questions for our times. Do you want in? Are you where you want to be? What side do you think the zombies are on? Have you managed to put a door between yourself and your pursuers? If not, what’s stopping you?

Forget the zombies for a minute. Let’s approach this from a more general point of view. Let’s ask ourselves about the parts of our lives that we don’t particularly like. Is your foot wedged in the door? Which direction are you trying to go? When confronting zombies or just unpleasant aspects of our lives, your best strategy may be to run away. It only works well if you get yourself to the right side of the door, though.

Humans taste like chicken.

Here’s an idea: Why not put all the chargers away for two weeks. See what happens. See how it feels. I am sure that one reason why so few of us are ready for life without power is that we are never without power. If you’ve never been hungry, you may feel no need to keep the house stocked with food. Always assuming the world will provide for our needs because it always has … well, the Doomsday Clock is sitting at 5 minutes to midnight. Assumptions are not our friends.

I prefer country music. I can still understand the lyrics.

Ahhhbbuuhr guhndreemm uhhzzihk. Ahgguhhn ihll unnerdanduh lihrggzz.

Well, somebody is. Maybe it’s gnomes or elves. Or my eldest child. This much I know. The electronics are slowly running down. Accident? Or something more sinister?

I no longer suffer from anxiety.

Ahhnnnoh ahhnnehr zzuhhvvurr uhhm aaahndiedee.

I used to love the Teletubbies.

Ahhhzzdd lubbduhhh dulldubbieezz.