Years ago, Chris Rock was awarded a rather unfunny show. Be that as it may, one of the classic sketches that came from it was a useful step-by-step guide to not catchin an L for your pride. Move with finesse this weekend, but just KNOW.
We’ve previously established that I’m not afraid to admit when I’ve been a dummy. But here’s a new one: I’m about to admit that I was wrong. I know, I know, that’s such a breakthrough coming from a narcissist like me. I’m so brave. Oh, what was a I wrong about? Just about how I unfairly labeled potato chips as lifeless, hangover victims. Look at THIS potato chip! Look how magnificent it looks, absorbing splendid spring sun rays, basking in the baking heat. This chip… so relaxed, but so powerful, illuminated against the drab graying blacktop, peering outward at the reflection of nature, thinking to itself, “Yeah, I might have started there, but here I am now, conquering the world of man.” This chip… it changes everything.
Sure, there have been other potatoes that have ridden in cars. But never a potato product that so completely owns the car it’s sitting in. Would you tell that chip to move its car? I wouldn’t. That chip belongs there. That chip belongs anywhere.
I guess my only concern about how this chip is living its life is sun protection. That’s a lot of UV Natural that tiny guy is drinking up. How about a little sunscreen, dude? No sense in becoming a Mesquite BBQ and Melanoma flavored crisp. Sure, your golden brown color is really coming in, but think long term. You might be pretty now, but what are you going to look like in twenty years? Probably a chip, but I’m not going to say that for certain. I’m done being wrong.
We, as humanity, have made some mistakes in the past. They’ve resulted in catastrophes nearing biblical proportions, like the meltdown of Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. Today in already troubled Ukraine, like a four legged, cunning phoenix out of the radioactive ashes, has risen a creature. This critter has been comfortably living where all humans deemed it too dangerous to survive, and mooching off of hard-working human sympathy from folks like you and me – that’s strike two and three right there, Foxy! “Showing no signs of fear…delighted at (free hand outs)… it took them ALL! ALL!! ALL!!!” according to the tea-and-crumpets lady.
Now folks, I’ve been accused of beastophobia on this very blog – among other public and dinner settings. I’d like to address that RIGHT NOW! I’ve been friendly to, and petted many-a-dogs in my life. That’s a fact! Who’s leg they hump is none of my business. But, when you start living in nuclear-wastelands, plotting Anubis-knows-what with the rest of your furry kind – I’VE GOT CONCERNS! Then, when you show training that rivals our best human sandwich artists, you’re a full on threat to international security! What does the fox say? We may never know, but we know what he does – and that’s stockpiling for an animal uprising.
This is an unusually crazy weekend. From punching heroes to punching men, there’s just so much shit going on. To help you sort it all out, I’ve broken down the top eight most important sports and pop culture happenings this weekend so you’ll know what you shouldn’t miss out on:
At the end of every month, I’ll post a Spotify playlist with all of the Morning Commute songs from that month. If I can’t find a song on Spotify, I’ll replace it with a song by, or featuring, the same artist whenever possible.
See ya later April, you devilish dog, you!
This photo is a gift sent from a reader, but it’s also an artwork, a response and replication of another artwork, casting shadows, altering the consumption of said artwork, an oil sketch, in turn a response to my own artwork, written interpretations of potatoes, episodic and stacked streams of consciousness, in turn a response to nature’s artwork, the humble, but glorious, potato.
At what point does art cease to be art? At what point is art reality? Do the images in our heads match the truth, the genuine physical world? Is the physical world any more genuine than the world that lurks within the mind’s eye? Do our dreams align with laws of physics? Did you read this text as I intended you to interpret it? If all you ever see is an interpretation of an object, can you understand that object? What if this was your first experience with a potato? Would you appreciate this potato more or less? Would you be able to say you understood what a potato was? Does this even count as a potato? Does it matter that I’ve labeled it a Potato Of The Day?
The shadows that rise from the corner of the photo, do those shadows have a message for us? Do they hint at the potato’s darkness? Do they unsettle your understanding of the potato? Were your opinions of potatoes pre-settled before we began this journey? If so, why did you assume to know the potato? If not, why did you not ponder the potato previously? Can you find meaning in these questions? Do questions constitute a blog post? Is a blog post art? Is the potato art? Is there real meaning within the rooted core of the potato? Or are potatoes meaningless?
Do you believe in the potato? Show me.
If you’ve got potatoes you want me to look at, email them to firstname.lastname@example.org.