(In which we actually exist!)

Posted by Job O Brother, February 18, 2014 02:05pm | Post a Comment

Was (Not Was?): Elvis Presley, Hitler's brain, Jimmy Hoffa, the author

You guys, I’m not dead. I know – like I’d ever get that lucky!

It’s been around 8,888 years since my last post here on the Amoeblog (give or take 8,888 years), which begs the question: What have I been doing?

Well, maybe it doesn’t beg the question. Maybe it just prompts you to politely inquire so I don’t feel unwanted and insecure. I’ll take it! Beggars can’t be choosers.

Actually, that’s not factual. Beggars can be choosers. In fact, it’s in a beggar’s best interest to consciously prioritize a great many things the rest of us FANTASTICALLY WEALTHY people take for granted.

For example: I’m often faced with a choice between whether I want to buy organic cilantro, versus non-organic cilantro. While I normally prefer organic produce, cilantro raised without chemical black magic is, in my experience, always filthy – and not “Oh, this potato needs to be rinsed first” dirty; organic cilantro requires a scrubbing akin to a Karen Silkwood workplace shower, which the culinary herb’s delicate leaves do not endure well.

Conventional cilantro? Always sparkling. Like, so clean you could eat off it.

Fragrant and edible joy – or – what Satan's sneezes smell like

I only have this issue with cilantro (or, for my dear readers outside the USA, coriander). What up, organic farmers of cilantro (or, for my dear readers outside the USA, coriander)? Why so much solum on my coriandrum sativum?

I realize that, for those of you lacking the gene OR6A2 in your olfactory-receptor clusters, all this fuss about coriander (or, for my dear readers inside the USA, cilantro) is just one more thing to hate about what you find to be an offensive, soapy-tasting plague on your favorite Mexican restaurant, but many of us love Chinese parsley (as it’s sometimes called by people who prefer to sound ridiculous).

A beggar would have to face the same problem plus have to consider the cost difference between organic and conventional cilantro and consider if his paltry coins, earned by asking alms, couldn’t be better spent on something more substantial for his grumbling, ill-nourished belly – like say, a crown roast of lamb, which has much more protein per pound, and will better help our beggar as he prepares to fight crazy ol’ Vietnam Sam for turf under the bridge, come sleepy-time.

I hope I’ve made my point about begging. Awareness of our homeless brethren is important, you guys.

Tsk... Obama's America.

Now you know what I’ve been up to all this time. Yay! All caught up!

…Oh, and I also got engaged to be married just after the heart-breaking death of my fiancée’s sweet mother after her long battle with cancer, but before I found out one of my best friends’ might be facing a major, life-altering operation. Now, we’re caught up.

And you? What have you been doing? Have you lost weight? You look like you’ve lost weight.

Gained weight? Well, I don’t see it. I think you’re just… you have body dysmorphia. You look great!

Okay yeah, but…

Yes, I see that, but…

Well that starts to sag on everyone – that’s just a part of aging, not weight gain.

No, I’m not saying you look old, just that…

No, I…

You’re putting words in my mouth!

Well, if you’d let me talk…

Yes, I know you’re reading this and not talking, but…


…No. I don’t mean that. You just got me very flustered. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I absolutely apologize. I’m sure you have every good reason to be annoyed with me.

You’re probably just more grumpy now that you’ve gotten so fat.

Is it all coming back to you? This is Another Witty and Unnecessary Blog. We do this, then find flimsy excuses to weave music in.

Did someone say music? I love music! What kind of music? Today, because I recently got a swell letter from one of my favorite earthlings, the gorgeous and street-smart Shireen, I’m listening to the hip hop from Holland she introduced me to when we lived together in the beloved (now deceased) squat, de Illusie, in den Haag.

I think Dutch is a rad language for hip hop, don’t you? Something about that “hard G” isogloss sounds so fetching against beats by hard Gs. For instance:

Kubus feat. Jawat, Stickz & Rico – "D-d-d-dikke Gek"

DuvelDuvel – "Wie Is Ut"

Osdorp Posse – "Nederland Tolerant"

Spookrijders – "Klokkenluiders"

Salah Edin – "Het Land Van..."

Extince – Viervoeters

Amoeba Music is the only record store I've been to outside of the Netherlands that has a section for Dutch artists. Look for sounds like these there, or in the extensive Hip Hop Section. Or heck – throw common sense to the wind and look for these tracks in the Opera Section – I'm not the boss of you!

Ugh… all this Nederhop has got me craving patat oorlog. Many of you won’t be familiar with this delicacy; it’s perhaps better left unexplained, except to say that it’s exactly what I would spend my money on if I had to steel myself against Vietnam Sam for a dry spot along the underpass. Krijg de pleuris uit, Vietnam Sam!

Relevant Tags

Extince (1), Kubus (1), Dysmorphia (1), Coriander (1), Karen Silkwood (1), Or6a2 (1), Hip Hop (94), Squat (2), Cilantro (1), De Illusie (2), The Hague (2), Den Haag (2), Holland (4), Patat (1), Nederhop (1), Netherlands (3), Nederlands (2), Homeless (4), Dutch (1), Cancer (10), Death (25), Shireen Van Dorp (1), Patat Oorlog (1), Jawat (1), Stickz (1), Rico (1), Duvelduvel (1), Osdorp Posse (1), Spookrijders (1), Salah Edin (1), World Music (146), Squats (2)