RAVEN MACK is a mystic poet-philosopher-artist of the Greater Appalachian unorthodox tradition who publishes zines & physical books & electronic books & music & photography & digital art & just generally whatever feels necessary to survive this deluded earth thru Rojonekku Word Fighting Arts survival systems (Version 69, establish 14 Feb 1973). Comments encouraged.

Wednesday, September 5

SONG OF THE DAY: Red Beans & Rice (Chopped & Screwed)


I have never understood how white people love black beans so much. I mean, I love black beans too, but red beans are amazing, and probably my preference. But most official restauranting establishments that have beans are either gentry class black beans or standard Mexican joint fare of pinto beans usually refried. Where the fuck is the love for red beans? Where the fuck is the Styrofoam plate of rice with red beans and a slab of fish? Why does all our crap have to be so much the same everywhere you go? How did being alive become so fucking boring? Why the fuck are there food trucks at the alleged farmer’s market charging $12 for a plate of food from a food truck? If I have $12 to blow on a single lunch, why the fuck would I be standing at a vehicle getting food? Why do white (and white-ish behaving) people who paint pretty color schemes on a food truck think they are entitled to ask $12 for a fucking food truck item? And why aren’t there more food vans? Or food stationwagons? Or people sitting beside the road with a propane burner frying up some fish or falafel to throw onto some flat bread for my passing by ass? Why do even the progressive people seem to be wearing invisible Make America Great Again hats, just in an alternate blue color? Can we make America less fucking boring? Can we smash through existing walls to let people sneak in over there while you are building a new wall over here? Can we put a food truck by the hole in the wall? Can we stop painting our food trucks so ridiculously nice that people have to charge me $12 for a tiny ass lunch serving of something that sounds better than it actually tastes? I’m trying to give my stomach sustenance, not my fucked up psychology. Can we make street food be legitimate street food and not Moosewood Acres cul de sac food? Can we try to make American food great, for the first time, so that when you say “American food” people don’t automatically laugh and think hot dogs and heart attacks? Goddamn we are a boring fucking society in a lot of ways, so homogenized by chain restaurants and digital trends, into thinking exactly like everybody else behind the same electrified fences which are wireless and unseen.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

Preach.
Life is so boring in our homogenized part of the world.

Anonymous said...

Used google translate button to read post in finnish. Learned some finnish and about the natural cadence of wonderous writing, no matter the language. Gonna check it out in Afrikaans next whilst I smoke a black and mild.
Grandpa made a jam red beans and rice, little red broth pinking up my white rice, prolly just the juice from the can, no additions. Being a white girl born poor trying to upclass eva, love my black beans, make the best white person black bean soup, different everytime. Love my black eyed peas too though, but haven't eaten since a kid, thanks dad. Are peas beans? Are black eyed peas even peas?
Husband said its like living with a peurto rican with me. Everything got pepper, everyday, peppers roasted, toasted, stuffed, baked. I told him don't tempt me. I'm gonna make straight pepper soup, no beans black white red or black eyed. I hate garbonzo, fucking hummus. Gotta old bag dumbass bought at shed-style store cuz shopkeeper thought we were stealing. F her and her white lady beans. Don't buy nothing if they think you're stealing. Let em think what they want. F ing b.

Raven Mack said...

OMG who made this comment? Let's have a cookout.