2004-03-30 - 1:18 p.m. Bisquick Okay, so I woke up late and got into work like 2 hours late today so I only have time for this one entry. I had two idea�s though. The first is about human�s relationship to the things they love, and the second is pancakes. This is then forced me to write about Human's relationship with pancakes. The Bisquick is Slow today The first three things I think of when someone says pancakes are hunger, my family, and IHOP. This was interesting to me because it focus on three things that penetrate our everyday life; needs, hopes, and commercialization. Like we need and want food and sex, because at the core we are animals. Our higher consciousness has this need to connect and establish bonds with people like with your family. And our culture influences our movement with commercialization. I don�t hate commercialization, except to spell it�, and this is because I think it makes life more fun. Just think�if it weren�t for TV and all that shit my dreams would be far less vivid. I like the jingles and the clever commercials, and it drives creativity. Things that were funny 40 years ago usually just aren�t funny anymore, and the recycled-ness of certain things won�t grab audiences. Hollywood cheats with their stupid sequels and remakes, but we are more picky today than any of our �ancestors.� We know what is good an isn�t. Take the Simpson�s, South Park, or Seinfeld which were three very different and unique shows. Those shows would have never existed were it not for over commercialization. But trust me, I know it has its downsides too. But Pancakes�mmmm�.how I love thee. And not all the time. It�s like once every three months, I could go for some goddamn pancakes. And I do. I just like the way they cook, and then how I eat them with the syrup. So damn good. Like little golden fluffy puffs of yummy extract. I think they are bad for me, but fuck that. If I did heroine once every three months I probably would make it to 70. I remember being young and watching how my dad ate his pancakes and I copied him, and that makes me wonder whether my son or daughter will do the same. Or maybe they will be allergic to pancakes! But my dad would get up early probably about once or twice a month before church and make way to many pancakes. I am talking like 30. That was 10 each for my family. He would feed the extra to the dogs or the birds. My Dog didn�t have a long life incidentally. Neither did the birds. Anyway, I always shudder at how sad life can be sometimes, but then how things can get turned around by something as simple as a pancake. Because it�s not the Bisquick, egg, and water, but the memories and story that that pancake represents. And for me, that memory is happy and comfortable. | |||||||||||
