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Okay on consideration I am probably going back, after a while

April 13, 2007 /

I spent three years working at Trover and bringing my lunch in a plastic bag. These lunches invariably contained sandwiches on whole-wheat bread, and though I went through phases regarding the filling (tuna, peanut butter and jelly, peanut butter and pickle), I generally came back to slices of turkey, on romaine lettuce or “spring mix,” with mayonnaise.

Now, I started working from home every day nine months ago, leaving me a bit at a loss. The constraints on my lunch (must tolerate refrigeration, must fit into reusable containers, must be edible on a half-hour break) were suddenly removed, but I continued to act as if they were still in place. I put things on a plate and I sliced up the apple.

Then I moved to London and found analogs to the American lunch ingredients, and still kept eating the same lunch. Admittedly, some of this was a comfort-familiarity ritual, but I’m past that now and it’s about time lunch and I started mixing it up.

To wit: this week I bought some French bread, and salami, and a tomato. I have blown my own mind. I am tossed amidst the shattering waves like driftwood in the brainstorms this has unleashed! On the ocean, I guess! In the metaphor!

So salami and turkey taste good together, especially on crusty bread. Would you like me to share with you some of the other revolutionary sandwich innovations/relevations? Innelvations? Revolevinnotrons.

  • Using pepperoni instead of salami
  • Toasting the bread
  • Cutting it in half, for greater ease of gripping
  • Cutting it in half diagonally
  • Maybe get that lettuce with shredded carrots
  • Shit, I know this is crazy
  • Just hang on
  • We are going into flavor hyperspace

Of course these sandwiches are not as healthy as the more fibrous, less-sausaged original version. There is a price to pay for joy, my friends, and that price is paid in belt loops. I’m never going back. Those who say you can enjoy food and lose weight are chasing a fool’s dream, and anyone who acts like they aren’t is profiting by it.

April 11, 2007 /

I’m a twit now. I have an extremely small justification for this, as follows.

Part of the Anacrusis FAQ says “I’ll get to long-form when I’m ready for it,” and I’m ready for it, so I’m writing long-form–specifically, the South book. I hate it when people announce on their blogs that they are Writing A Novel, with slight exception for that one thing in November. But the fact is that my only successful projects are done a) with at least the appearance of rigorous scheduling and b) in the public eye, so I’m going to start microposting my daily page count. With luck this will keep me from going back and polishing the first chapter over and over. Seriously, guys, the first chapter is really good.

The twi–ugh, microblog is now a sidebar on the main NFD page, and it’s got its own feed, of course.

April 8, 2007 /

“The sky over the port was the color of television, tuned to a dead channel.”

In 1984, that meant the gray fuzz of static; in 2007, it mostly means the lurid royal blue that modern TVs automatically substitute when they don’t get a signal. Most cultivars of apple at the grocery are now red and green, rather than bright red. Peppered moths are now peppered again, instead of black (and were once black instead of peppered).

Are there other colors-by-reference that have changed in living memory?

April 3, 2007 /

I finally watched Primer, with the expected result.

Calvin is confused!

I guess I’m going to read the plot breakdown before I watch it again (yes, of course it’s on Internet; no, I’m not going to link to it). Mom claims that catch-what-you-can plots are the only kind I like, which is not quite true: I also like plots where good people do their best to destroy each other for perfectly good reasons. And romantic comedies.

Everybody compared Primer to Memento, but I think Primer is superior–both by its refusal to spell things out and by the fact that it doesn’t rely on a weird structure to screw with you. Rethinking a lot of things about structure, lately.

March 30, 2007 /

Why should I update when I have Stephen to sing my praises in microfiction and Paint?

“There was once a small cat named Brendan Adkins. He lived a happy life in a happy house with his happy cat cousins and happy dog friends. Everything was great, all the time, every day. Little Brendan Adkins had kitty litter and yarn and a small rubber mouse to play with. He had everything!

Things continued on in this extremely pleasant fashion until one day, when their owner (a small Italian man whom Brendan had always suspected of being involved in the mafia, but felt guilty and prejudiced because of it) got trashed on horse and fed all the dogs antifreeze.”

Brendan's penis is nowhere near as small as you'd think it is. He has a 'small-penis personality.'

300

March 27, 2007 /

Dumber than Gladiator; much dumber than Braveheart. Still less dumb than Sin City.

Also, really loud.