Cleaning up
When Gary stopped chewing long enough to gulp it all down, sometimes he reflected. He couldn’t quite remember how long this had gone on—was it more than a year? more than two?
“Can I be excused?” he had said to his dad at the supper table that early evening.
“Not till you’ve finished everything! How many times do I have to tell you!”
Obligingly, he finished the beef roast—chewy and dry—before tucking into the peas (cold), plate (crunchy), table (mahogany), mom and dad (sinewy), house (fake brick veneer), and so on. He’d eaten everything on his block some time ago. He remembered rounding the corner onto the next street, only preserving the knife and fork that had, at some point, fused themselves to his hands. If he’d been forced to answer any questions, he’d have waved those implements around for emphasis, as if conducting a gustatory symphony. But he was busy now and wouldn’t be disturbed.
If he had taken the time to look back, Gary would have marveled at how his digestive system had adjusted, how his metabolism had overcome the initial shocks.
He had once faced a lot of questions, first from his neighbors. “What are you doing? What’s wrong with you?” they had pleaded. “Stop it!” they had demanded before he ingested them, one by one. Others on his street—formerly named Brioche Avenue, now jokingly referred to as “the Gastric Bypass”—had learned at least to move faster than the pack to survive.
“What’s on TV tonight?” he thought as he bit into a large LCD panel. “What would my dentist say?” he wondered to himself as he gobbled up the hygienist. The mint in her kitchen herb garden served as a welcome palate cleanser.
Was this all there was to life? he wondered as he chewed through the university philosophy department’s existentialist faculty.
If only dad could see him now. Maybe he would just let him leave the table and play in his room instead. Oh, well. It was too late for that.
Okay, I’m late to the game, and I see that Marque is getting a lot of flack for this one. I, however, thought it was good. Very imaginative!! I like that he’s so eclectic, and besides that, we wouldn’t be here without him!
I’ll admit that I thought this was going to lead to something about our obesity problem… 😂
I am trying to interpret today's piece as a metaphor for consumerism.... it kind of reminds me of that comedian who says... "If you had everything, where would you put it?" and George Carlin's riff on stuff. How do people become accustomed to more and more and yet still want and are never content (a definition of addiction?). This eating protagonist, he is never creating anything.
The most uplifting article I read recently was in the Atlantic entitled "Despite Everything You Think You Know, America Is on the Right Track" :"Yes, America is a wounded giant—but it always has been, and the case for optimism is surprisingly strong." By David Brooks.
I won't add a link, everyone here knows how to use Google and if they have a subscription or a free article read left this month. I wonder if anyone else read it and if they did, what do you think of it?
It is what allows me to sleep at night with the current Congress and the unending George Santos (if that is really his name) stories of enthusiastic deceit. (This too, shall pass and we will survive it but it does bother me that we have no tar and feathers in sight).
Another article I read was regarding lawsuits against Tesla. It was in the NYT Magazine ("Elon Musk's Appetite for Destruction" by Christopher Cox). I am sure you all have heard of it and know how to find if you want to. Anyhow, the article does bring up an interesting question... is it a fair thing for the rest of us to be forced to participate in Mr. Musk's beta testing AI autopilot/self-driving experiments? It is probably more prevalent out West among the well-heeled that can afford to spend an extra $10K on the self driving package but still..
Anyhow-- I raise my glass today for the brave Ukrainians. May they beat back the Russians and find a good filling meal and a warm place to sleep tonight.