A Question of Firsts: Durian

We're all bound to ponder the questions which yield no answer, such as "if a tree falls in the woods and no one is around does it still make a noise?" or "what is the sound of one hand clapping?" And though in theory these questions do have answers from a logical stand point, they continue to create moments of zen as one wrestles with them, never truly finding an answer.

I too contemplate these questions, but my questions are questions of "firsts." For example, who was the first person to think a Durian would be a good thing to eat. If the weapon like exterior didn't look inviting enough the putrid smell should have detoured any further advances. If I was the first man to discover a durian I would have thought that they would have made wonderful weapons. With their naturally spiky exoskeleton. I would have launched them with some sort of catapult or trebuchet, or just waited in the trees for my enemies to walk past and dropped it upon their heads. Perhaps the first encounter with a durian was a near death or possibly fatal incident. Walking mindlessly through the forest, a spiny, dense, head sized object falls from the trees (nearly) smashing an unsuspecting passer by in the head. At what point during the pain and bloodshed, and not to mention pungent smell did one think, "Wow that really hurt and it smells gross, but MAYBE it taste delicious."

Perhaps the first encounter with said fruit was not as destructive and violent. It could, and probably was, a chance encounter while wandering through the forest and finding these objects on the floor. However I would have thought the smell would stop any normal person from deeper inspection. The wise comedian Demitri Martin once stated that "whenever we investigate smells it's always something nasty, it's never,'What's that smell? OH! Cookies!'" Resonating with that idea, why would you, upon discovering the smell was not in fact cookies continue to the point of thinking of "even though this smells gross I wonder what it taste like?" A normal reaction to strong and offensive smells is not to try and see if it taste good but to throw it out, which in the case of durian may have resulted in yet another head injury.

I like to think that durian and it's acceptance as a edible treat is proof that though alcohol did not exist in early human history, since the beginning of time "Truth or Dare" and like games have played a major role in culture as well as the idea that our ancestors must have been as dumb or dumber than we are to have tried things which defy logic. Here's to you, durian and the bravely stupid person who first tried to eat you.

Breaking Rules and Japanese Awesomeness

The first major rule to writing a good blog is to not reblog. Don't post others stuff. Not really because of plagiarism but just because if a blogger was to do that they'd cover ground that has been covered before. However I've decided to break that rule, due to the supreme awesomeness of what I'm about to share.

The Japanese are known for their crazy inventions which seem to serve very limited and specific purposes. Case in point the cat mop, or the full body umbrella. However a Japanese designer has managed to develop, what I can only describe as a security device, which mimics old time cartoon techniques.

You may remember as the witty mouse scurried about the marketplace, in hopes to avoid the cat in chase he would often find refuge in a clay pot or potted plant. Now when you are being chased by someone you're able to disappear in a row of vending machines.


























How awesome is that! There are actually quite a few "devices." A backpack which can unfold to become a "fire extinguisher" or a purse that looks like a manhole cover so when you're being chased you can throw it away from you and the pursuer won't know where your belongings are. Japanese have the best "inventions."

Yet Another Mini Post

It was a hazy day. Just one of those days where you'd rather lay in bed where it's warm, instead of climbing out to the chilled air. Was it night still? I couldn't tell, the sun was masked by the clouds which made it look like I should crawl back into bed. I had to go though. I already missed this class once this semester and it's only the third week. Did I miss it once or twice? I don't remember. Either way, I had to get up. The day went on as normal. But when I returned home I was greeted by the strangest thing. Two ducks sitting by the pool in my apartment. Just hanging out.

It's things like that make it worth it to go outside. The best part is that those little guys are still out there, some 9 hours later. They're sleeping now. I hope the management doesn't chase them away in the morning. I kind of want to catch them and make them my pets. Jenn said no. If they just stay around the apartment that'd be good enough. I think I'll go feed them.

All I Wanted Was A Coffee

All I wanted was a coffee. It had been a really tiring, and warm day and I had a feeling in my mouth. The type that seems to scream, "something sweet!" I ventured into Common Grounds (the campus coffee shop). We found a seat and I approached the counter. Eying the menu, I didn't see anything that would satisfy my critical taste buds. Perhaps the specials?

Biola has an affinity with clever names. Speckled Cows and MicroBursts, and this list was no different. Love Potion, a raspberry, strawberry smoothie. Sad Single, basically a speckled cow with strawberry. I found something that seemed like just what I was craving. A raspberry and chocolate smoothie. Basically a liquefied truffle. I look at the name and instantly hate the person who thought it up.

"What can I get for you?" he says, a bit too cheerful.
"Um...can I get a..." scanning the menu for a last ditch escape hatch. No luck. "A...Sweetheart Special." I hear the words leave my mouth and I feel like kicking myself. But sadly, I love truffles. I add a comical "as fruity as that sounds." He just smiles and lets out a quick laugh.

I stand around the pick up area, hoping to intercept the drink without a public announcement of the emasculating name. My greatest wish was for the barista to just hand me the drink. He pours on the drink, and I find myself reaching for the cup, stopping myself short realizing that he's not done. Chocolate syrup around the edge, whip cream with even more chocolate syrup. Finally the lid appears and as he caps the drink, I reach for it. Please see me. Please just read my name. Please just place the cup in my hand.

He looks up, smiles at me, "Sweetheart?"

All I wanted was a coffee.

Happy (early) St. Valentines Day