Usually, I always post a video with the song of the day. Years ago, I posted download links to share the mp3s, but everybody stopped keeping actual files and just streamed, so I switched to YouTube links. But I can’t do that today, because it’s a Michelle Shocked song, and she keeps all her stuff from being available anywhere for streaming. And I get where she’s coming from, so I didn’t feel like forcing the issue by uploading my own video and have it get a copyright strike, either immediately or eventually. So I let it be.
I get the distrust of all the improvements to our culture that are supposed to make life easier, because that ease don’t always fulfill its promise. I got mad earlier today because a ghost knocked the fan out the kitchen window, and it flipped some stuff off the counter, including a watermelon, which split and rolled across the floor. Being its guts got exposed, I had to go ahead and chop it up, even though I probably would’ve waited another day or two, because I still had some muskmelon to finish off in the fridge. But I chopped it up. It’s a seedless watermelon, because that’s all they had at the store. Juices had leaked out everywhere when it split on the fall, but it was still pretty wet inside as I chopped it up, as one would expect from a watermelon. But when I ate a couple pieces (standard tax while chopping), it wasn’t sweet. I mean, it was, but not like I would have hoped. Them old seeded watermelons was way sweeter, juicier too. Sure, you had to spit out seeds, but honestly, how difficult was that? Plus, being they had seeds, it means biologically, it won’t sterile. Conceivably, you could throw the seeds at the edge of the woods, and next year, like magic, you might have a watermelon vine growing out the woods. That actually happened at my old house one year, and that watermelon vine grew all over the edges of a hog pen. I only got one small melon out of all those vines, but it was pretty magic just to watch it grow through the summer, sprawling itself out everywhere.
But all I got now is these sad ass seedless watermelons, which all the marks love because we’ve cultivated a society of toddlers who want seedless watermelon fruit and an endless supply of chicken tendies. And I’m guessing this also means that every year, actual watermelon farmers, all the little Mr. Majestyks out there, have to order a new batch of freshly fertilized melon seeds, to grow a new crop. Of course, there are few Mr. Majestyks farming… it’s all giant farmaceutical corporations, and even the smaller farms are the petty bourgeoisie doing the Sylvanaqua thing and cosplaying as farmer off the saved up money from their early retirement working for defense or intelligence contractors. We’ve created such a completely clusterfucked society, with nothing but consumer cultural identities, so that it all falls apart so easily. That’s why all them assholes were so mad about the fake threat of “cancel culture” because when your cultural identity is consumer-oriented, if somebody points out the products you’ve built your existence off of are flawed and potentially corrupt, then you’ve fucked up the plastic foundation of their own self-identity.
Oh well, fuck it. If freedom is outlawed, then only outlaws will be free. I’ll still eat this non-sweet ass seedless watermelon, out of respect for the hungry, for a day or so, then give the rest to my girlfriend’s chickens. Or I’ll throw it at the edge of the woods for the critters back there. We’ve been having a mama and fawn deer hanging the past couple days. I bet, despite the seedless non-sweet ass nature of it, they’d be stoked about a little watermelon. Or maybe not. Maybe they’d nibble some, and the mom would say in deer to the fawn, “Damn, this triflin’ ass man eats nasty.” Maybe that’s why they galloped over the neighbor’s yard when I saw them earlier today. Fuck. How embarrassing.
I get the distrust of all the improvements to our culture that are supposed to make life easier, because that ease don’t always fulfill its promise. I got mad earlier today because a ghost knocked the fan out the kitchen window, and it flipped some stuff off the counter, including a watermelon, which split and rolled across the floor. Being its guts got exposed, I had to go ahead and chop it up, even though I probably would’ve waited another day or two, because I still had some muskmelon to finish off in the fridge. But I chopped it up. It’s a seedless watermelon, because that’s all they had at the store. Juices had leaked out everywhere when it split on the fall, but it was still pretty wet inside as I chopped it up, as one would expect from a watermelon. But when I ate a couple pieces (standard tax while chopping), it wasn’t sweet. I mean, it was, but not like I would have hoped. Them old seeded watermelons was way sweeter, juicier too. Sure, you had to spit out seeds, but honestly, how difficult was that? Plus, being they had seeds, it means biologically, it won’t sterile. Conceivably, you could throw the seeds at the edge of the woods, and next year, like magic, you might have a watermelon vine growing out the woods. That actually happened at my old house one year, and that watermelon vine grew all over the edges of a hog pen. I only got one small melon out of all those vines, but it was pretty magic just to watch it grow through the summer, sprawling itself out everywhere.
But all I got now is these sad ass seedless watermelons, which all the marks love because we’ve cultivated a society of toddlers who want seedless watermelon fruit and an endless supply of chicken tendies. And I’m guessing this also means that every year, actual watermelon farmers, all the little Mr. Majestyks out there, have to order a new batch of freshly fertilized melon seeds, to grow a new crop. Of course, there are few Mr. Majestyks farming… it’s all giant farmaceutical corporations, and even the smaller farms are the petty bourgeoisie doing the Sylvanaqua thing and cosplaying as farmer off the saved up money from their early retirement working for defense or intelligence contractors. We’ve created such a completely clusterfucked society, with nothing but consumer cultural identities, so that it all falls apart so easily. That’s why all them assholes were so mad about the fake threat of “cancel culture” because when your cultural identity is consumer-oriented, if somebody points out the products you’ve built your existence off of are flawed and potentially corrupt, then you’ve fucked up the plastic foundation of their own self-identity.
Oh well, fuck it. If freedom is outlawed, then only outlaws will be free. I’ll still eat this non-sweet ass seedless watermelon, out of respect for the hungry, for a day or so, then give the rest to my girlfriend’s chickens. Or I’ll throw it at the edge of the woods for the critters back there. We’ve been having a mama and fawn deer hanging the past couple days. I bet, despite the seedless non-sweet ass nature of it, they’d be stoked about a little watermelon. Or maybe not. Maybe they’d nibble some, and the mom would say in deer to the fawn, “Damn, this triflin’ ass man eats nasty.” Maybe that’s why they galloped over the neighbor’s yard when I saw them earlier today. Fuck. How embarrassing.
