To Taste

I follow several blogs that include recipes. I've also hacked my way through enough of The Joy of Cooking to know my way around a kitchen.

I have a pet peeve.

Salt and Pepper... TO TASTE!

Yes, authors. We know. There are these two things called "salt and pepper" and they often enhance the flavor of a meal. You don't need to tack this onto the end of a recipe, though. Why not other spices? Cumin to taste. Banana to taste. If you don't like it, don't add it. How logical.

Some recipes are better constructed by adding salt and/or pepper at some point during the cooking process instead of near the end. These should be included in the recipe like any other ingredient. Adding a catchall to the end of the recipe is just annoying. I trust that you've done your experimentation with your recipes BEFORE you put them in your published document. As such, I also expect you to tell me if adding salt or removing salt at any point in the recipe will chemically alter the procedure and screw everything up. I don't need you telling me to salt my food if I like it salty.

Perhaps it should be standard in the All-Encompassing style cookbooks to include a blurb on using salt in food somewhere up front of all the recipes. That way people know the difference between adding salt in a recipe when it is necessary and when you add it for personal preference. Cake has salt in it. But you don't see "salt to taste" at the end of it. What if I like my cake gott-dam' salty? Am I allowed to add it, huh? huh? huh?

Anyway. I'm going to go finish harmfing down my ground beef/Bacon/chard/chili powder/coconut milk concoction. It is salted to taste.

Parallel Killer

I'm sick and tired of serial killers. I mean come on. How hard could it be to think up some "suuuper clever" way to kill someone. And then do it again a few times... How pedantic.

See what he did here? The killer takes his victim home from a bar, then he drugs them. Then, while they're sleeping, he sends a text to everyone on their phone saying he gonna kill them. See how clever and cruel he is, torturing his victim's loved ones? Maybe even a few of the people he sexts with? Then he disposes of the body by dropping it out of his airplane into a public swimming pool. GENIUS! EVIL GENIUS....

Gah!

Lame.

If (legal disclaimer: IF. IF. IF. IF.) I were to end up with the desire to kill anywhere from 2 to n people, I would be a parallel killer. Think up my suuuuuper clever M.O. and then execute all the crimes at the same damned time. All over the place. Hey look! I made a smiley face of dead people on the US map. Sounds fairly standard, except for the times of death. There would have to be ground rules, of course. You can't kill everyone in the same place. That's cheating. That's unsuper clever. That's called a bombing. That's called mass suicide (although, how cool would it be to see a Heaven's Gate-style flash mob at Union Station... ok maybe that's a bit morbid). You have to follow all the serial killer rules, but all the times of death need to be pretty damned close to each other, and you can't have accomplices. That is way cheating. Too easy. Must be a solo act.

But I don't really feel like killing anyone. Just a thought I had.

Snags (and grammar, as it turns out)

I am usually a fairly cool-headed guy. In fact, I would say that I'm at a point in my life where my stress levels are likely the lowest they've ever been. Ever.

HOWever.

There is one thing that evokes a largely visceral reaction in me. I can't help it. It just happens and I don't know how to make it "ok" in my head. My heart rate jumps a tiny bit and my attention is suddenly completely engrossed in the matters at hand. I bet my skin may even start to turn green slightly.

I CANNOT cope with a snagged headphone cord.

While you may look at this and say "jezuss. Is this really the biggest problem in your life right now, Neil?",* I'd like to point out that this may actually have something to do with some sort of instinctual defense mechanism. It may be triggering some "life or death" situation detector. I am fairly convinced it has to do with the fact that the headphones are directly connected to my ear, an organ associated with a very coveted Sense. At least to me. The reaction does not happen with any other type of snag, however surprising said snag may be.

In the case of ear buds, getting something ripped out of your ear seems like a logical cause for alarm on an instinctual level. We don't like having "unexpected things" that close to our head, which houses a very large percentage of what makes us useful critters. This is why it's so damned entertaining to take a long piece of grass and poke it into your friend's ear when he's not looking. When you're 8 years old. He inevitably tweaks out like a marionette when the puppeteer sneezes. It's hilarious. When you're 8 years old. I have found that my reaction is less severe when I'm wearing full-on headphones for recording and such. But it's still there.

Lesson learned? Buying expensive sound systems and blasting the shit out of your music will lower your stress levels.

* I am unsure of the proper order of the punctuation here, but I strongly feel that what I put SHOULD be correct. The "?" is part of the quote. The """ (should that be "'"? That is, if you're using a quotation mark outside of its normal context, which elicits the use of quotation marks around it, should you then convert this quotation-mark-within-quotation-marks to an apostrophe? I would guess the default is just to spell out "quotation mark" [sans quotation marks]) indicates the close of the quote. The "," is a part of the sentence regardless of the inclusion of a quote. The "*" refers to the entire clump of punctuation. No doubt there. Except for starting the text after the "*" in the footnote (of which this sentence is a part). Should there be a space between the "*" and the "I", or should they be jammed together? The former looks correct; the latter looks cramped.

I solemnly swear.

With the advent of social media and all that hoopla, there arise myriad opportunities to skirt confrontation with other humans. I hereby promise that I will not use my blog to such a destructive end. I may write things that are uncomfortable for some, but I further promise to make every attempt to tie my own life experiences into the greater body of general human experience and explore all the "meaning" and "greater implications" stuff. I'm not writing merely as a window into my Self. I'm writing as a prompt.

As such, feel completely welcome to add your own thoughts and ponderings regarding whatever strikes your fancy.

I just stared at the screen for >30 seconds. I think it's bed time.

I have a problem.

Ok. So it's not exactly a problem. See... I'm human. That comes with quite a few choices. Intriguing choices, at that. It also comes with quite a few realizations. Also intriguing. I think about my choices and realizations a whole lot and sometimes I just need to get them out.

Enter Nascent Neil (the blog, not the entity sitting here at the DIY desk).

We'll say that these "realizations" are a result of rumination and they form what I consider to be my reality. The "choices" are how I decided to navigate my being through my reality. Of course life is more complex than that, but when you get down to it, life is more complex than any human or artificial intelligence will ever be able to comprehend. I'll just stick to thinking about shit and writing about said shit in this blog.

I already know that this will be therapy for me. I'm not a huge fan of social barriers, so I expect many of my posts will be a bit... honest (read: heartfelt, revealing, intimate, intense) for some people's tastes, perhaps. Especially if you (think you) know me already. BUT. I also feel that many of the problems in the world today are a result of the fact that we dehumanize everything and that some people think being an asshole is in their best interests. How sentimental of me. I don't mind showing you, my esteemed reader, my inner workings. One hacked-together blob of text at a time.

**End hack**