At the existential sandwich shop, taste is subjective

In the existential sandwich shop all sandwiches remind you existence is meaningless. But you still have to choose one.
If, in the existential sandwich shop, you refuse to make a choice you will be reminded that, also, is a choice.
In the existential sandwich shop anything can happen and often does; as long as it, on some level, involves sandwiches.
Or the absence thereof.

The clerk at the existential sandwich shop was an artist — each of the sandwiches was sad in a different way. They were so good I cried.
At the existential sandwich shop you can order whatever you want but you have to infuse it with meaning yourself.
Otherwise it has no taste.

“Do you have gluten free options?” asked the diner at the existential sandwich shop. “Yes,” said the clerk. “The angst is in the filling.”
“Or lack thereof,” he quickly added. Because he had to. It was the slogan. But only he controlled how he said it. This time with a wink.
“Anyway, white bread isn’t existential at all,” the clerk said. “I’m afraid it isn’t much of anything.”
“Ask our mascot Angsty the Clown any questions about nutrition.”
The clown said, “What does it matter?” –to no one in particular.

Evil plans+fruition=evil pie

There should be a donut shop called “Great Danish.” The mascot, of course, will be Soren Kierkegaard. Riding a Great Dane.
In Vienna a word for the pastry otherwise known as the Danish is “Plundergebäck.” Also the name of a popular death metal band. Or will be.

If you don’t keep stirring things up the hope inevitably sinks to the bottom.

The yogurt of hope tastes like angels weeping. The yogurt of doom tastes like chocolate and banana. It’s called flavor.

When laughter is outlawed only outlaws will laugh

Did you know this fascinating tidbit about dental offices: the laughter of children is prohibited therein. They may have all the sugar they want. That’s part and parcel for the business. But laughter is relegated to elsewhere.

It’s a serious business.
Dentists number your teeth. That’s so, later on, they don’t get lost inside your mouth. Woe to those who return to the dentist only to be lectured about their teeth being “out of order. All out of order.”

Sometimes they also leave graffiti on some of the back molars. Way in the back, where you can’t see.

The state of healthcare

IMG_0348 by Raffin.David
IMG_0348, a photo by Raffin.David on Flickr.

The good news is that I have neither the rocking’ pneumonia or the boogie woogie blues. The bad news, as explained by my doctor, is that I am in love with a ghost. “We refer to that as ghostly melancholia,” he said. “Always unrequited,” he added, “as ghosts are insubstantial.”
“What is the prognosis?” I asked.
“We usually treat this with ice cream and the collected sad songs of Johnny Cash. However, I must advise you that this almost always causes the condition to spiral into melancholia caused by eating too much ice cream and listening to too many sad songs, making one forget, but not entirely, the original malady.”
“You know,” I said, “I came in here to see about my hip impingement.”
“Who’s the doctor here?” he said, handing me a quart of vegan ice cream and a Johnny Cash box set.

Philosophize This! by Stephen West

Lately I have been listening to Philosophize This! by Stephen West as he discusses pre-Socratic and Socratic philosophers. And it’s really very good.  It’s even better if you imagine that the narrator is a talking owl. Adds a certain sense of veracity to the proceedings.

I mean, we’ve all heard you can’t cross the same river twice. But imagine an owl relaying this pre-Socratic wisdom to you. See?

Lunar living

The first three moon bases broken down: Luna A: old and staid; Luna B: the one to see, but I wouldn’t want to live there; Luna C: The place to be.