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*Arthur O. Brooks
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*Styx Silver
For some reason, I just think chicken is gross. “A chicken in every pot,” sounds like an 11th plague. But we’re obsessed. We love chicken body parts: “Chicken Wings, Chicken Legs, Chicken Breasts, Chicken Thighs.” Sorry, but “Chicken Breasts” and “Chicken Thighs” are just a little too much for any over active imagination, even if they are on sale for $1.99 a pound.
The thought of even a few pounds of chicken makes me all queasy. And every ad for chicken seems intent on making me quease up further: pounds and pounds of cheep dismembered chicken corpses. Fill your fridge and freezer with freshly amputated body parts. Just $1.99 a pound.
And with fried chicken things get worse. Don’t just decapitate, defeather, disembowel, and
dismember your chicken. Decapitate, defeather, disembowel, dismember, and then individually
fry each part of the corpse in a vat of boiling oil. It’s finger-licking good.
Restaurants boast their unnatural mutilations:
“Try out our new Savory Boneless Chicken Wings.”
There’s really no such thing as boneless chicken wings. So why keep the name of the body part? Why not,
”Try out our all new Savory Chicken Bites”
And the restaurant carnage lingo gets even more graphic: Chicken Fingers. Take that in for a second. Chicken fingers are unlike chicken breasts, thighs, legs, and wings, in that CHICKEN FINGERS ARE NOT FINGERS. When it comes to chicken flesh breasts, thighs, legs, wings, and boneless wings are not enough: we’re greedy for fingers too. We’re so hungry for the fingers of chicken that we collectively pretend that when chicken is cut in strips and fried, the result is a finger.
“Hey, how’s that chicken breast?”
“These? No, these are fingers. Good. Great fingers here at this place. I bring the whole family and we eat the breasts, and thighs, and fingers of the chicken. We do it together, as a family. It’s our family’s own little thing each Tuesday. We never miss a single fried chicken-corpse Tuesday.”
Primitive barbarians parents that we are, that’s the one option on the kids menu that all
parents everywhere encourage their kids to order.
“Why don’t you have the chicken fingers
son? They taste great in honey mustard. Just dip those fried flesh fingers into sauce and enjoy
every bite.”
When I see them on the menu, I ask,
“Do you by any chance have fried strips of chicken?”
“Yes sir, that’s what the chicken fingers are.”
Then I fill the room with awkward silence as I stare in horror and disbelief.
Chicken nuggets? Would we be ok with pig nuggets and cow nuggets? What part of the chicken is the nugget? And then: chicken rings, chicken fries, even chicken balls. Yes, that’s right, I’ve seen chicken balls on the same menu as chicken thighs and chicken breasts.
“Umm, yes, I’ll take an order of the chicken’s breasts and the chicken’s balls.” “My wife will have the thighs.”
We all know it’s severed chicken leg.
But can’t we just call it a drum stick?
*Lon (Lonny, Alfonso) Swanson
If using Ai or some other sorcery, an app was able to tell you the next best thing to do with 98% accuracy, would you let it be your master?
A master could do a lot with less than or equal than 2% of you.
*Woody Guffy
Walt Whitman is right; “I contain multitudes.” Unfortunately my multitudes do almost nothing but screamingly point out my every inadequacy. When I am absolutely worn out it is inevitably because of my multitudes.
* Joshua Curious
Fulfill. Fully fill. To fully fill all good.
Material alone is insufficient. We need more than all we can touch, see, hear, smell, and taste.
Is there ever an upside to tempting fate or God?
Fools rush in where angels fear to tread. Yes, the early bird gets the worm, but it's the second mouse that gets the cheese. Is that a Steven Wright joke?
There is only One Master.
Now, today: change.
Just do it.
*Arthur O. Brooks
call me or text me at (516) 973-3189