Happy Tuesday everyone! Thanks for all your enthusiastic comments about my last painting. It made my day (week, month, year... it did!)
Topic Change: In the cafeteria at my work they make these great wraps. They are really popular with everyone so I thought I'd give the chicken one a whirl. (It was great!) So, I decided to buy the stuff and make it for Kip's dinner last night. So if you wanna see the recipe (with pictures) it's behind the cut.
So here's what you need. Chicken pieces (breaded)--look at mine! they are shaped like little drumettes... (I'm so special) shredded lettuce, those really large tortilla wraps & some ranch dressing. You cook the chicken according to the package instructions then layer everything as you see below. Oh! Your suppose to add chopped tomatoes too...but I don't em...so mine went Tom-less.
Heat the tortilla's up a little in the microwave so it rolls easier...then cut in half. See? easy-easy-po-peezy. I think next time I will try those Spicy Buffalo Chicken strips! (gawd...fat-ton-ning)
Blog more tonight...Oh! If you like Juxtapoz Magazine you'll love this site ARTDORKS.COM
From the collection
Bears Discover Fire and Other Stories
by Terry Bisson
“They’re made out of meat.”
“Meat?”
“Meat. They’re made out of meat.”
“Meat?”
“There’s no doubt about it. We picked up several from different parts of the planet, took them aboard our recon vessels, and probed them all the way through. They’re completely meat.”
“That’s impossible. What about the radio signals? The messages to the
stars?”
“They use the radio waves to talk, but the signals don’t come from them. The signals come from machines.”
“So who made the machines? That’s who we want to contact.”
“They made the machines. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Meat made the machines.”
“That’s ridiculous. How can meat make a machine? You’re asking me to
believe in sentient meat.”
“I’m not asking you, I’m telling you. These creatures are the only
sentient race in that sector and they’re made out of meat.”
“Maybe they’re like the orfolei. You know, a carbon-based intelligence
that goes through a meat stage.”
“Nope. They’re born meat and they die meat. We studied them for several of their life spans, which didn’t take long. Do you have any idea what’s the life span of meat?”
“Spare me. Okay, maybe they’re only part meat. You know, like the
weddilei. A meat head with an electron plasma brain inside.”
“Nope. We thought of that, since they do have meat heads, like the
weddilei. But I told you, we probed them. They’re meat all the way through.”
“No brain?”
“Oh, there’s a brain all right. It’s just that the brain is made out of meat! That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”
“So . . . what does the thinking?”
“You’re not understanding, are you? You’re refusing to deal with what I’m telling you. The brain does the thinking. The meat.”
“Thinking meat! You’re asking me to believe in thinking meat!”
“Yes, thinking meat! Conscious meat! Loving meat. Dreaming meat. The meat is the whole deal! Are you beginning to get the picture or do I have to start all over?”
“Omigod. You’re serious then. They’re made out of meat.”
“Thank you. Finally. Yes. They are indeed made out of meat. And they’ve been trying to get in touch with us for almost a hundred of their years.”
“Omigod. So what does this meat have in mind?”
“First it wants to talk to us. Then I imagine it wants to explore the
Universe, contact other sentiences, swap ideas and information. The
usual.”
“We’re supposed to talk to meat.”
“That’s the idea. That’s the message they’re sending out by radio. Hello. Anyone out there? Anybody home?’ That sort of thing.”
“They actually do talk, then. They use words, ideas, concepts?”
“Oh, yes. Except they do it with meat.”
“I thought you just told me they used radio.”
“They do, but what do you think is on the radio? Meat sounds. You know how when you slap or flap meat, it makes a noise? They talk by flapping their meat at each other. They can even sing by squirting air through their meat.”
“Omigod. Singing meat. This is altogether too much. So what do you
advise?”
“Officially or unofficially?”
“Both.”
“Officially, we are required to contact, welcome, and log in any and all sentient races or multibeings in this quadrant of the Universe, without prejudice, fear, or favor. Unofficially, I advise that we erase the records and forget the whole thing.”
“I was hoping you would say that.”
“It seems harsh, but there is a limit. Do we really want to make contact with meat?”
“I agree one hundred percent. What’s there to say? "Hello, meat. How’s it going?" But will this work? How many planets are we dealing with here?”
“Just one. They can travel to other planets in special meat containers, but they can’t live on them. And being meat, they can only travel through C space. Which limits them to the speed of light and makes the possibility of their ever making contact pretty slim. Infinitesimal, in fact.”
“So we just pretend there’s no one home in the Universe.”
“That’s it.”
“Cruel. But you said it yourself, who wants to meet meat? And the ones who have been aboard our vessels, the ones you probed? You’re sure they won’t remember?”
“They’ll be considered crackpots if they do. We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat so that we’re just a dream to them.”
“A dream to meat! How strangely appropriate, that we should be meat’s
dream.”
“And we marked the entire sector unoccupied.”
“Good. Agreed, officially and unofficially. Case closed. Any others?
Anyone interesting on that side of the galaxy?”
“Yes, a rather shy but sweet hydrogen-core cluster intelligence in a
class-nine star in G445 zone was in contact two galactic rotations ago, wants to be friendly again.”
“They always come around.”
“And why not? Imagine how unbearably, how unutterably cold the Universe would be if one were all alone . . . “
Yipes!!!!!!! That's one honkin' comment Ray! lol :)
(psst... Only 30 more mins until Sir Foo Moon Chu ends)
Posted by: Lori on August 16, 2005 05:01 PMYeah, Ray!!!! Thanks, man!
(not so closet SF freak here!)
Oh, and that's a pretty nifty recipe, Lo!
Posted by: dan on August 17, 2005 11:17 PM