Sometimes I find my mind wandering over various eclectic topics and occasionally I am inspired to write some of them down. Today I was thinking about the Ukraine.
It seems relatively easy to dismiss the plight of this oppressed (& invaded) country from our thoughts so I endeavour to ensure it is never far from mine. And to demonstrate that, I am going to end this short piece with this simple image:
And then an observation on another oh so normal occurrence.
Bill: Hey, Ben.
Ben: Yeah?
Bill: You see that feathery thing over there?
Ben: You mean the chicken?
Bill: Yeah. You see the hole at the end of it?
Ben: You mean the beak?
Bill: No – the other end.
Ben: Ok. What about it?
Bill: Have you ever thought about eating what comes out of
it?
Ben: <pause> You know sometimes I worry about you.
Bill: What do you mean?
Ben: Well, like last week when you pointed to a cow’s udders
and said you were going to squeeze those dangly things underneath it and drink
what came out.
Bill: So what? It all worked out, didn’t it?
Ben: By sheer fluke. It could easily have gone terribly
badly.
Bill: But it didn’t. So I think I’ve got a good chance of
being right this time too. After all, I’m currently on a 100% success rate.
Ben: But it’s nuts! I mean would you want to eat what comes
out of my ‘other end hole’.
Bill: Ew! No!
Ben: There you are then.
Bill: Yeah - but you’re not a chicken. Besides I wouldn’t
have wanted to drink what came out if I’d squeezed your dangly bits either.
Ben: There’s no need to be personal.
Bill: Well, you started it.
Ben: And I’m ending it. You can’t look at an animal and decide ‘I’m going to eat whatever comes out of its rear end.
Bill: I can to!
Ben: You can not!
Bill: I can to and I’ll prove it – watch!
Ben: No Bill – seriously. Please don’t.
Bill: Just wait and watch.
Ben: I don’t think I want to.
Bill: It won’t take long – look the chicken’s sitting down
already. And it… yes! It’s done it. Right – you see this oval-ish thing that
just came out?
Ben: Yeah.
Bill: Well, watch me cos I’m going to eat it.
Ben: (to himself) To be honest, this isn’t going as badly as I thought
it might
Bill: Watch
<crunch of the whole egg being eaten at once>
Ben: So how is it?
Bill: Alright. Bit crunchy and pointy. The bit in the middle’s
delicious though. I might give that bit another try.
This month's catch-up starts with an observation on the simple act of eating a tomato. Was it always this simple?
Judge:
Goody Badwife – you have been found guilty of the heinous crime of witchcraft
and you have been sentenced to the most hideous of punishments – death… by
tomato.
Crowd:
<gasps>
Prisoner:
No! Please! Anything but that!
Judge:
Silence! The tomato, as we all know, is a member of the deadly nightshade
family and thus an extremely poisonous plant. It will leave you writhing in
hideous agony until your agonising and excruciating death.
Prisoner:
No! Please! Give me another chance! If only I could…
Judge:
Enough! Executioner – bring forth… the tomato.
Crowd:
Ooh. Aah. Ohhh.
Judge:
Now… eat!
Prisoner: <chewing> Er. Oh. Ugh. Ah!
Judge:
Yes, that’s the poison now coursing through your veins as the agony takes hold
of your body. Tell us now - how do you feel?
Prisoner:
Er…. I feel fine actually. This is actually really good. Little bit unripe
maybe.
Judge:
What?!? That proves it – she must be a witch. No human could eat a tomato and
live!
Villager:
Uh… actually I have.
Judge:
You have?
Villager:
Yes. And she’s right – they’re rather nice actually.
Judge:
Why didn’t you say anything?
Villager:
Well, when you said they were so poisonous I figured maybe what I’d eaten
hadn’t been a tomato after all. Turns out it was.
Judge:
But this is preposterous! We can’t sentence someone to death and only have them
eat a slightly unripe vegetable.
Prisoner:
Well, I don’t really mind to be honest.
Judge:
You don’t count. You’re the condemned party. We’ll have to come up with
something else instead.
Prisoner:
Oh, well. In the meantime have you got a napkin or something to wipe this
tomato juice off with?
Judge:
Napkin?!? We don’t waste napkins on witches. Executioner – chuck her in that
lake to wash the juice off while we think of another punishment for her.
Prisoner:
What? No! Wait! Please! I can’t swim!
<Splash>
Prisoner:
Gurgle. Glug. Glug. Glug.
Judge:
Hmm. It seems we’ve found our new method.
