Sunday, November 27, 2011

You didn't really want ANOTHER piece of pie, did you?

Day 472 of turkey. Shoot me.

I'm in detox mode so that I can get on with life and still fit through my apartment door. I made a raw soup yesterday that was incredible. I know. "Raw soup" sounded like shit to me too. Fuck the raw soup. Bring on . . . something, anything, cooked. But it rocked and I can already feel my ass shrinking to its normal ample size. I'll share the recipe another time.

Because right now, I'm here to help you step away from the pie. Kids, gather 'round. Auntie Kiki is going to share a chapter out of history.

I've been reading a lot about Jamestown lately. The Virginia settlement that started in 1607. It's fascinating. If you are every curious, my two cents are as follows:

The Jamestown Experiment, by Tony Williams, is a good primer. Williams is a high school teacher, and his book is highly readable.

After cutting your teeth on that, Love and Hate in Jamestown, by David Price, is a more indepth look at the same story. Written by a journalist, the difference between the two books is striking.

But whatever you do, don't EVER put yourself through this terrible experience. Not even for Colin Farrell. What a terrible waste of time--I blame the screenplay. Dull and confusing if you don't know the story; frustratingly FACTLESS if you've just read two books about the topic. Books that quote journals and letters. Seriously disappointing.

I digress.

Since reading the books, I've asked people what they remember about the Jamestown Settlement. A bartender asked if it was a true story. Someone else said, "Didn't they eat shoes?" Oh, it's better than that. So. Much. Better.

So, picture it: It's winter 1610. You've been a lazy fuck all year and didn't store up food like you should have. What food you DO have is crawling with worms. You've pissed off the natives, and they've surrounded your little fort so that you can't leave without *pew* *pew* arrows flying very accurately at you and killing you. But damn it, you're hungry. So maybe you shrug and eat all the horses. And then maybe you look around and realize that the cats and dogs are competing with you to catch rats and mice, so you eat the cats and dogs. *burp* Some time passes, and you are back to eating a half-cup of wormy gruel each day. It's protein, right?

For a little switch up, you begin to chew on the leather of your shoes. Ugg, can you even imagine?
Even I'm disappointed at that joke.

You might become a tad delirious when the shoe thing doesn't work out for you. You watch your fellow colonist lose his everloving mind and leave the fort to forage for snakes or roots or SOMETHING to eat. *pew* *pew* Goner. Shit. What are you going to eat? Wait--shit! You'll try eating excrement! *cough* *spit* Nope. That stuff tastes like shit.
Don't do it, dude. Seriously. I'm shit.
After some time goes by, you begin to have those cartoon daydreams where people start to look like food:
Waikiki Wabbit, 1943
So your ethics loosen a little and you think maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to eat your neighbor, the one who died this morning of hunger. Hey, not bad! Raw is tough chewing, and he's a little lean, but who can be picky at a time like this?

Eating the dead becomes the new "black" there at the settlement, but there aren't always dead bodies lying around . . . wait--there are!! We just need to DIG UP THEIR GRAVES! This guy's only been dead three days, how bad can he taste? Well, pretty bad, but no matter. *Mmmm, full tummy*

It's gotten pretty bad at this point; you're actually looking feverishly at people, hoping they kick soon--and hoping it won't be you. But what if you're a seriously screwed up fuck who can't stop thinking about food? And what if you have this . . . idea . . . one night while your pregnant wife is asleep in your arms.

You might convince yourself that it's okay to kill your wife. The baby, of course, you remove from the womb and toss into the river--because, shit, you're not THAT crazy. But back to wifey. Mmmm. Wifey. Perhaps dismembering her body is easier if you dwell on every time she bitched at you for not polishing your boot buckles. Or for that time she was making eyes with Ebenezer over a fresh body last week. Yeah, that'll learn ya, bitch! *shakes salt on body part* *eats*

But you get caught. *wah wahhh* You try to deny it. But people are pissed and hang you by your thumb nails until you confess. After they begin adding weight to your ankles, you do confess. "Yes, I ate that bitch! With a fine Chianti. *ffffff* You're greatly relieved to be put to death. Finally, you are dead. Funny, no one eats your body. 'Cause some people have standards, jerk.


Oddly, another faction of colonists upriver did great that same winter, The Starving Time, as it's called. They ate pigs and berries and had no idea what unfortunate things their fellow colonists were up to. Another shipload of colonists had crashed into Bermuda that year and were living the dream all winter. Bet they were a little sad to eventually arrive in Jamestown. The point: It didn't have to happen.

*Auntie Kiki closes book*

Go ahead. Have a snack now. Yeah, you don't want any, do you? And I bet raw soup doesn't sound so bad now, does it?

You're welcome.

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