i___zombie

I know I haven't been saying much about what we have been doing, .... we are busy working. But here is something funny to keep you amused...

Rant by: Scott Westerfeld

He is one of my favorite writers and just a man of true wit and wonder....

I know its long babies... but read it... youll get a laugh from it and
learn something


I promise

The Front of the Can

Don't they know they're killing us? Don't they know we give a damn? Don't they know that every time we see the plural of "salad" with an apostrophe, we die a little?

Everything should be done right. The world should be well edited. Don't they know that the child who reads the randomly punctuated menu grows up to vote for the mealy-mouthed candidate? Grows up to pay a dollar-fifty to a cash machine to get out twenty bucks? (Lucky them. How simple the world must be for those people who don't see the apostrophes, or hardly notice when they're ripped off. They just look at the pictures, and they are content.)

So, here's me having a can of V-8 juice, and for a blissful moment I'm not thinking anything. I'm like them, I don't care, and the vegetable juice tastes good. Then I make the mistake of looking at my V-8 carefully, with an editorial eye. On the front of the can are illustrations of the vegetables within: carrots, celery, tomatoes.

Uh, wait a second. Tomatoes? Tomatoes aren't a vegetable, they are a fruit. But that's a picture of a tomato on a can of V-8. What's does the "V" in V-8 stand for, if not "vegetable"? Shouldn't things make sense? Shouldn't the world be well edited? So what's the deal? Is V-8 really "V-7, F-1"?

Who makes this stuff, the Florida Election commission?

Now that my editorial eye has been activated, I'm reading the fine print on the can, seeing if there are any clues to explain this misnomer, this taxonomical travesty. I find a toll-free number. Right above this number it says, "If you have any questions about our fine General Foods product, call." This can is practically begging to be edited. It wants my help. Needs my help.

"General Foods, Jane speaking."

"Hi, Jane. I have a question about V-8 juice."

"Yes, sir. What's your question?"

"Well, I would like to know: V-8 is so named because there are eight vegetables in it, correct?"

"Yes, sir. That's right."

"Are tomatoes one of those eight vegetables?"

"Uh, yes, sir. I believe so."

"But tomatoes aren't vegetables, are they, Jane? They're fruits."

And she says, "Oh, you're one of the tomato people."

I am not alone.

"I'm afraid that I don't handle this question," Jane continues. "But Candice does. Please hold a moment, sir."

I wait a few moments for Candice, secure in the knowledge that I will soon be in the hands of an expert. An expert on us tomato people.

"General Foods, Candice speaking."

"Candice, I'm one of the tomato people," I proudly proclaim.

"Oh."

"And as such, I would like to point out that the tomato is a fruit, Candice. It grows on the vine, containing seeds. Therefore, it seems dishonest to call your fine product V-8. It seems to me that V-7, F-1 would be a more accurate designation."

"Well, yes, sir. We here at General Foods are aware of the tomato issue. And I have two answers for this question."

Two answers? A duplicity of responses.

"Okay, what's the first one?"

"Well, sir, the Supreme Court of the United States has determined that the tomato is for legal and commercial purposes both a fruit and a vegetable. So we can legally refer to tomato juice as 'vegetable' juice."

The Supreme Court, I think. Those guys again. I wonder what the ideological breakdown was on that vote. Did the original intent guys want to keep the tomato a fruit? Somehow, I doubt it. Those guys aren't about it getting it right, they're about power, pure and simple. The power of the marketting department over editorial. And so the country winds up with a vegetable by fiat.

"That answer doesn't make me happy, Candice. I don't care what the Supreme Court says. Tomatoes are in no way vegetables. They contain seeds, they grow on a vine. They are the fleshy, ripened ovary of a plant. The Supreme Court can't just say that they're vegetables for the sake of convenience. Just to wrap things up. This is the Bush v. Gore of the produce aisle. Who was arguing for the fruits, anyway, David Boise?"

"Well, sir, I know what you mean. Not many tomato people find that answer satisfactory, I'm afraid. But a lot of you seem to accept the second answer a little more easily, once it's properly explained to you."

"Lay it on me, Candice."

"Well, sir, here it is: although technically a fruit, the tomato is perceived to be a vegetable."

"Perceived to be?"

"Yes, sir. Most people go their whole lives thinking that tomatoes are vegetables. They never question it. Not once. And they're perfectly happy. Sometimes perceptions are more important than reality, sir. In a sense, perceptions are reality."

"I like this answer even less, Candice."

"You may not like it, sir. But I'm sure you'll learn to accept it. If you'll let me try an experiment, perhaps you'll understand."

"Okay . . . "

"One question, sir, what did you do last Saturday night?"

"Saturday night?" This is weird, I think. "I went out to dinner, then a movie, and then to two or three bars."

"And what time did you go to bed on Saturday night?"

"About two-thirty?"

"Well, sir, I'm sure you're being perfectly honest. You're saying what you think happened, but it didn't happen that way at all."

"It didn't?"

"No, sir. Technically you didn't go to bed at all on Saturday night."

"No?"

"No. You see, there is no two-thirty AM on Saturday night, sir. Two-thirty AM Sunday is perceived to be Saturday night, but properly speaking, it isn't Saturday at all. It isn't even night. We just think it's night, and we all say it's night, but no matter how black it is outside, it's technically Sunday morning."

I am in stunned silence for a moment, then, "Damn, Candice, you're good."

"But you know in your heart that it's really night, don't you, sir? No matter how accurate you tomato people try to be, you live in the same world with the rest of us, you know what's on the front of the can."

"I know that a tomato is--"

"You know it's black outside, sir. You know it's night. You know you're stuck with a vegetable. And if you can't stand to look at the front of the can, maybe you should just close your eyes."

"No, Candice. Please don't--"

"That's right, sir," she says, cold and relentless now. "George W. Bush is the President of the United States. Not because he got more votes. Accurately speaking, he didn't, not in the country, not even in the sunshine state. And he's not president because the Supreme Court says he is. Those guys just came in to tidy up the produce aisle. George Bush is president because he is perceived to be. He showed up for the inauguration, he's on television every day, he's on the front of the newspaper."

"He's on--"

"The front of the can, sir. I hope that answers your question about V-8?"

"I'm afraid so. I'm sorry to have troubled you, Candice. I'm sorry I called."

"That's okay, sir. Enjoy your vegetable juice."

Don't they know they're killing us? Don't they know we give a damn? Don't they know that every time we read the newspaper, we die a little? They don't know where to put apostrophes, and we think we live in a democracy.

The world should be well edited.