Gerber goober
2001-07-15 - 8:53 p.m.
Currently eating: monkeybrains (TM). Frozen strawberries that have been defrosted, microwaved, smashed up, covered in sugar, remicrowaved, and drained of their juices. A delectable finger/toe food for the whole family.
Started �American Gods� today, having finished reading �Steal This Computer Book II� and copying all the necessary files from the accompanying CD. Gaiman holds the exclusive status of being the only author who hasn�t yet disappointed me. Not an overused metaphor in place, not a comma out of place. He even keep his pluralisms and singularisms in order with his neologisms. The character�s names (usually composed of common nouns) can be a little weird, but such is just another part of his wel-defined style.
For beginners to child-like food-mixing, I�d recommend melted Flavor-Ice (TM). It�s a popsicle-in-plastic thing...and when melted, makes a good test-tube for �experimental� liquids. Not to mention that it looks qoo when it swirls.
Occasionally I wonder what someone would think of bad luck if they considered good luck to be a bad omen, and thought good omens were good luck.
Teriyaki sauce and a fork is no substitute for soy sauce and chopsticks.
They says that you shouln�t eat sumthin� if�n you don�t know where it�s been. But what if you know that it�s been lying on the floor for two days? Does it become any more edible if you Know about it? And this is to say nothing of the importance of knowing where something is going. Shouldn�t it be just as imperative to Know where it�s going to go, before you eat it, as it is to Know where it has gone? Just before I crawl into bed, I begin to wonder where she�s been. But it occurs to me that I�d rather know where she�s going, if given the choice between the two.
I always wanted to try honey/chicken-blood, like Bruce Lee...but there was never any chicken blood to be had. Not the unfrozen-and-fresh stuff, anyway.
Drank milk today. Milk and honey...a rare occurrence. I used to drink this all the time, before I discovered my ill-famed cherry-juice/vinegar combination...after which quickly followed a lemon concentrate stage. And then I started my four-year addiction to Coke.
I take very few ideas to heart, and slightly more to mind. I once took an idea to bed, and haven�t slept well since...I do not believe in god not because I don�t think that he exists...whether he exists or not has nothing to do with what I believe. [When you say �I believe in you� to someone, you are not reaffirming that they do, indeed, exist; you are telling then that you believe in their Message.] I do not believe in god�s Message. I have not, to present date, found the key that is the Message to match the lock that is my Questions. But when I find out the individual answers to my Questions, I�ll forge my own key. And *that* is what I believe in.
Babyfoods, of the metaphorical sense. Recently, I�ve been wondering exactly what people grown up on, and whom they grow to be because of it. This seems to be the single most perplexing thing to confront the mind of Futurejason in a long time. I grew up on Frog and Toad, and The Three Little Pigs, and The Little Golden Books (just like all the other kids of those days), etc. There exhibits a reoccurring theme amongst the themes of these �roots�: a few good friends battling it out against the odds. The idea that no one really succeeds if they win alone. And I wonder what can be said about whom I am today, based on what I read/saw fourteen years ago. And this makes we wonder if a good book must really be �good� in the literary sense, or if it must be �good� in the sense that it helps create good persons.
I once heard it said that �A god too simple for our understanding isn�t complicated enough for our standards�. A single person (other than me) has surprised me...a few others have managed to make me laugh. Almost everyone I know (and a few I don�t) have made me smile. But I am really the only one that confuses me.
When I was eleven. I reduced and destroyed my �instinct� to shiver. The cold just didn�t do it for me anymore. I used to think it was �cool� that I didn�t shiver; but not unlike losing the ability to cry, forgetting is a high price to pay.
