Because there's no such thing as too much cheese. Unrolling the braciole of consciousness; shaping the meatball of life. Because everything is funny; you just need to view it from the proper angle. Good for cats. Made in Poland. Because everything is like a hat. You know how those gorillas can be... Very unforgiving.

Friday, June 18, 2004

Just in case any psychoanalysts were purveying these entries, I'm going to contribute a dream I had a few months back.

The dream begins on a flight to New Brunswick, Canada. The seat in front of me has a small imbedded TV monitor, and so I decide to watch the in-flight entertainment, a documentary on a dynasty of European cheese farmers. In a tiny agrarian village somewhere in the eastern bloc, secretly resides a family of farmers that for centuries has produced the rarest cheese on Earth. A cheese that is so painstaking to create, it takes an entire human lifetime before its ready for consumption. The only humans priviliged enough to ever taste the cheese have been royalty and the super-elite. Furthermore, no one has ever witnessed the manufacturing process...until now.

The cameras enter a huge hangar full of cubicles. Inside each cubicle is a cow being fed cheese by a member of the family. Time lapse film depicts a cow ballooning in size until he has no visible legs or head, and at which point the cubicle door is locked and the room begins filling with liquid cheese. Once the cheese has reached the cubicle ceiling, the room is heated to a specific temperature and left over a prolonged (but precise) period of time, developing at last, into the most sought after cheese the world has ever known. We watch primitive film footage of Middle Eastern princes devouring the cheese in ecstasy. The screen then fades black to begin a truly disturbing scene.

One of the farmers enters into a cubicle and begins petting a cow, he pauses and locks the cubicle door. The room begins filling and we watch as the cheese rises over the head of the cow and just above the farmers neck, at which point he stares blankly straight into the camera and lets out an extremely cow-like "moo". The narrator explains that over the many decades it takes to make each batch, many of the farmers become attached to their cows and "take part in the love that has no name". Rather than carry on their lives alone they join their cows in the ultimate sacrifice inside this one-of-kind delicacy.

A sad story, but nevertheless one that must be told.