Potato Of The Day Episode 96

romatomatoesSorry if I’m a little subdued today guys, but this morning I suffered a little trauma. Some dude hit my Roma tomatoes. Yeah, I know. It’s just not right. I’m still recovering, still a little sore over the whole ordeal. Frankly, right when it happened, I wanted to puke. But I didn’t. I’m a man. Have to stay strong in the face of adversity and all that, you know? So I just knelt down and held those hurting Romas in my hand, and I nurtured them. And then I tried to go about my day, but dude, that Roma hurt is still there.

What kind of man hits another man’s Romas? That’s sacred fruit we’re talking about! You don’t do that. It’s not cool. No, it’s not. Romas are precious. They should be treated like the fragile Faberge eggs that they are, protected and guarded like family jewels. Because really, they need our protection, and our consensual agreement not to attack them. They’re helpless! You don’t attack the garden area, man. That’s gotta be in the Geneva Conventions. Someone please look that up for me. I would, but, I’m so hurt, I can’t bear the thought of standing. I’m drowning in a pool of deeply emotional physical pain, you know?

Can you picture how hard it would be to be a Roma? To live that life? The same thing, day in, day out, unless your world is ripped apart by a sudden and unexpected attack. Sure, there’s minor variance in the Roma world, they come in different shapes and sizes, varying in color and hue, some wrinkling, some smooth, some filled with way more juice than others, but in the end, they’re all biologically the same. They’re all Romas! They all get by with nothing more than a thin layer of skin covering their seed. They all bruise. They all dangle just below the vine.

I can’t stop thinking about all those other poor Roma tomatoes suffering rampant abuse in the world. It might be accidental, a little love tap. It might be intentional, a deliberate kick. But either way, it’s all pain. There’s nothing good that comes from Roma hurt. You know what happens when you get hurt, like a real nasty, cut or scratch? You have to sterilize the wound. Well the same is true for your Romas. If they get hurt badly enough, they get sterilized. We can’t have that. It’s bad for their species. It’s bad for our species. Protect the Roma tomatoes, dude. It’s the right thing to do.

Advertisements

Potato Of The Day Episode 89

pomegranateI wish more things in life weren’t like pomegranates. Pomegranates are difficult. They’re hard to crack, hard to eat, hard to enjoy. They require real effort, deliberately focused repetitive energy. They require motivation. They require commitment. Sure, there’s a payoff there, a pearl of life-refreshing juice. But there’s just too much you have to go through to get to that point. You have to cut and score the skin, you have to break the membrane apart, you have to pick the seeds out one by one, you have to filter and strain, you have to rinse, and THEN, only then, do you get to eat. And it might be great, it might be life changing, it might even be a tropical fruit orgasm for your mouth, but DAMN, it was a lot of work. Too much work. Just like success in life. Fuck that noise. I’m off that.

I don’t want to work for success. I just want it. There. Delivered to me for doing whatever it was I happened to be doing. I just want the pleasure of enjoying the fruit, not the fruits of my labor. I want to be that lucky bastard who got straight to the pomegranate seed without dealing with the skin first. And be honest, you know you want that too. Sure you can work really hard, you can study and perfect, you can practice, you can plan and execute, you can master your craft. You can do all those things you need to do to succeed, and you might, might, get there, to that promised locked, away burst of treasure juice. Or you might not. Maybe by the time you get there, it’s gone bad, you know? Or maybe, the whole journey, the trials and tribulations, wiped away your desire to get there in the first place? Or maybe, the effort is just too much, and you never make it at all. And then what?

So let me just have this one. Just nod to yourself and go, “Yup, good post”. Give it a big ole fucking gold star. Just don’t ask me to put more effort into this. Don’t make me sell it to you. Don’t make me share it. Don’t make me work. Just let me exist in minimal effort, collecting praise for a job done. Who cares if I did it all that well? Who cares if I spent time editing, revising sentences, carving excess marble away, reducing down to the perfect blend of punctuation and word? Who really cares? Maybe you do. But that pomegranate sure doesn’t. And I sure don’t. So maybe my first sentence was wrong? That decision is up to you.

Potato Of The Day Episode 76

blackpluotYou guys, Black Pluots are so modern America. Think about it. They’re bi-fruitcial, raised half plum, half apricot, self-identifying as BLACK because, duh, if you’re mixed you get to be black. Yes, get to be. This modern America. Haven’t you heard? Black is the new white… well, minus the favorable employment chances and natural police invisibility cloaking and general institutionalized privilege. And well, white was never cool. And well, that seems like a really lazy metaphor, doesn’t it? So now that I’m thinking about it a second time, I guess not at all then? [Siya’s Note: Not at all then.] Right. Well. Regardless… Black Pluots, man. They might not be the new white, but they are the new metaphor.

Plums by themselves? Solid. Apricots by themselves? Also solid. Plums and apricots together? Also, also solid. So things change, but nothing changes. Where is this all going? Are we still talking about race? No, we’re talking about metaphors. What’s a metaphor for? It’s for distilling thematic elements into easily digestible images. The Black Pluot is digestible in a literal sense, obviously. See? Metaphor. For what, then? Don’t ask questions, me. But to answer you, me, for metaphors. The Black Pluot looks better representing other things than it does itself. For example, the Black Pluot is Potato Of The Day encapsulated into tangible fruit form. It’s real. But it’s not really real. Black Pluot is just a name for a man-made genetic anomaly, an unnecessary, albeit tasty, brick in the path to enlightenment. Could you live without ever eating a Black Pluot? Yes. Is your life better once you’ve encountered a Black Pluot? Also yes. Am I calling black people an unnecessary genetic anomaly? Fuck no! I’m mixing metaphors, which leads to dangerous and ambiguous paragraphs. Mixing can be good or bad, you see? Black Pluot. Again, metaphor.

Are you confused? You should be. This is nonsensical. Just like a Black Pluot. Which I’ve now accidentally turned into a simile thanks to my pesky friend, the like. Facebook uses likes in different ways than similes, but they both use them as symbolic connection, friendship vs. comparison. Just like you and I use Black Pluots in different, but similar veins. You consume Black Pluots to provide sustenance. I sustain Black Pluot metaphors to provide consumption. Different dominos, same table. That’s another metaphor. The English language is a Black Pluot. Do you see what we’re doing now? No? Me either.

Last paragraph. We need to bring it full circle, the shape of a Black Pluot. Being mixed or black or fruit has nothing to do with a thing’s ability to tell a story. But being mixed or black and/or fruit can result better stories. Neither a plum nor an apricot nor a pluot are truly better or worse than any of their shared sentence brethren. It’s how you, the modern person you are, consumes them that matters. Which is just another way to say that this all very complex, a mixed and delicate situation, a Black Pluot living in America. So lesson learned here? Choose your metaphors, your Black Pluots, carefully. Or, you might look like a racist.

TBT: TLC – “Waterfalls”

Confession about this Throwback Thursday #SongOfTheDay selection; until an embarrassingly recent age, I always thought the hook went “Go Go, Jason Waterfalls“. Then I would wonder ‘where are these Jason Waterfalls?Then I learned of all the greatest waterfalls on earth; I learned of Victoria Falls (just north of my home country of South Africa), then I learned of Niagara Falls in America, then I learned of the Angel Falls in Venezuela – and HOLY $HIT were those huge!   All along thinking, what was so special about these “Jason Waterfalls” Left-Eye (R.I.P.) sang about? Then I would just hit the bop like so:

AAANYWAY – turns out it’s “Don’t go chasing waterfalls” that the best TLC song was about after all. So there…Like Captain said: Don’t chase waterfalls… just bop to this video below: