I make this Spicy Thai Basil that is totally and completely awesome. I vary it a little with jalapenos and habanero
peppers. It's really really spicy. You don't even so much taste it, as you feel it searing the skin off the inside of your
mouth. It's actually that painful to eat. But I love it. Is that what one would call ironic? Or masochistic?
Most of what I want to eat is bad for me, just as most of the women I'm attracted to are bad for me. The Apostle Paul
addresses these self-destructive human tendencies in his writings much more so than, say, Darwin, who believed that all of
our instincts were geared to self-preservation. I don't think Darwn factored self-destructive behavior into his equations.
I want things that are bad for me and I actively pursue things that will ultimately kill me, and I don't understand why
my instincts run so counter to my own basic need for survival. Worse yet, these are primal tendencies that everyone has, we're
actually made this way. I can change my diet and my behavior, but it's not so easy to change what I want or what
I believe.
It's like when I drink coffee. Coffee is bad for me, and the more I drink it, the more I want it.
On the other hand, one time I knew a woman with an ulcer who said that she craved onions, and her doctor told her that
it was because her stomach needed onions to heal itself. And so that was her mind knowing what her stomach wanted. Or something
like that. Anyway that's the story she told me, though I'm not sure I believe it.
So your body craves things that will kill it and your mind wants things that heal it. It all seems so conflicted and
weird.
This woman I know
Like, I'm supposed to go out with this woman, who I don't actually know. We met online and we talk on the phone quuite
a bit. I know she has a kid and I know she's divorced and I know she talks a lot. I mean, a lot. She never met my kids but
she tells me what they're thinking and what they're feeling, and she has some definite opinions about how I should parent
them.
It's hard to argue with someone who speaks with such conviction and authority on subjects they don't know anything about.
Not only is it impossible to contradict them, but it's difficult to even add anything to what little you might agree with.
I think about the blind guy on Kung Fu and how, when he spoke, everyone bowed and nodded; they could ask questions
and stuff, but there was never any doubt about who the master was.
People like this say something, and even if it's something completely obvious or totally wrong, they repeat it for emphasis:
The sky was really blue today. Yeah, it really was.
Experts say that most of Shakespeare's plays were actually written by syphillitic monkeys. It's true.
When a child cries like that, all he really wants is attention. Because for some reason he feels that he's not getting
enough, and so he cries to get it.
It's like the instinctively know that no one is going to say anything because either it's so insanely obvious that there's
nothing else to add, or it's just so stupid that there's no point even in disagreeing with them. So they just agree with themselves.
Part of me wants to go on this date, but part of me really really doesn't. The part that doesn't is attached to my ears
and my brain, and usually those lose out to the other parts. At least, that's how it's been in the past.
But like spicy food that I want and is bad for me, I'm divided. Maybe tomorrow will be different.
