Cheese In The Middle East

Cheese In The Middle East

by Rob Cottignies

“For a long time I could not conceive how one man could go forth to murder his fellow, or even why there were laws and governments; but when I heard details of vice and bloodshed, my wonder ceased and I turned away with disgust and loathing.” -the creature, Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

There are many trees on many islands but one particular tree only grows on one particular island. The dragon's blood tree (Dracaena cinnibari) is native to the island of Socotra, the largest of four islands in the Socotra archipelago off the coast of Yemen.

The dragon's blood tree is arguably the most interesting-looking tree on our planet and its red sap was mythologized as resembling the blood of a dragon. These trees can be found on plateaus, beaches, mountains, and wherever else they feel like sprouting up from the mighty ground.

A dream of mine is to sit under a dragon's blood tree and admire Socotra's diverse flora and fauna, read a book, eat the tree's berries, contemplate, and whatever else. That seems easily-attainable, but sadly, it will probably never come true.

I have the means, motive, and opportunity to visit Socotra, so why should this not happen?

The U.S. Department of State advises against traveling to Yemen “due to terrorism, civil unrest, health risks, kidnapping, armed conflict, and landmines.” In other words, I can't relax under a tree because people might try to blow me up. I could certainly sit under the tree, but there's a decent chance I could be kidnapped and/or killed on my journey by violent radicals, pirates, or any other group of angry folks who are waiting to cause chaos.

Those trees look awesome but aren’t entirely worth the risk.

…

How did we get to this point? By ‘we’, I mean humans, the only species of the roughly 8.7 million on Earth to cause such situations.

Many have argued that violence is in our nature. Some quick research into the history of almost any country, tribe, ethnicity, or religion will show you massive amounts of bloodshed. Even our ancestral apes likely resorted to violence when the thought emerged, as pointed out by Arthur C.Clarke and Stanley Kubrick in 2001: A Space Odyssey. Many animals fight with each other, but those bouts are limited to hunting for food and protecting the pack. People do horrible things to other humans out of greed, jealousy, revenge, enjoyment, or even for no reason at all.

And why would this specific state of things change? The Middle East has been a disaster since I've been aware of what it is and long before that.

…

Then I wonder, ‘Do they eat grilled cheese in the Middle East?’ I think not, because the versatility of this food would make anyone stop blowing things up and start eating. ANY person can take two slices of ANY kind of bread and put ANY kind of cheese between them to get a delicious and possibly nutritious snack.

Melted cheese turns any food into an absolute delicacy, but with grilled cheese it’s the featured ingredient!!! Peaceful and relaxing, cheese has a proven* calming effect on any person it enters. When it's placed between bread and cooked, Nirvana is achieved. Go forth, young Arhat.

*I made this up, though it should have been proven by now

What's even better is that you don't even have to specifically grill your sandwich. Instead, you could toast it, bake it, broil it, griddle it, pan-fry it, cook it over an open fire, put it in a Panini press, or however else you want to cook it for maximum deliciosity.

For a minute there, I felt like somebody else…

…

Have you ever seen the film Benny And Joon? Me neither, but apparently it contains a charming scene which features Johnny Depp making grilled cheese with a clothes iron. As far as I know, Johnny Depp has never wanted to blow me up so that I couldn't sit under a dragon's blood tree, so I'll also trust his method.

By adding a few simple ingredients, you can make at least 150 different amazingly deliciously wonderfully melty grilled cheese sandwiches!

If grilled cheese sounds amazing but not quite filling enough, have I got some great news for you- Grilled cheese's best friend is none other than tomato soup! Just think about dipping the corner of your scrumptious cheese-melt into a bowl of hot liquid red wholesome creamy amazingness.

(Is anyone else drooling right now? If you're not, immediately stop what you're doing and spend no less than four hours on this site.)

Cranking up the appeal for people who hate their bodies but love their taste buds, restaurant chain Friendly's once offered a grilled cheese burger melt, which was a good old juicy hamburger smooshed between *two* grilled cheese sandwiches. Sadly or thankfully, this item is no longer available.

...

The Great Depression, by its own definition, was one of the saddest times in American history. To feel better, do you know what people ate during this era? Grilled cheese! They often called it Cheese Dream and I don't blame them for one second. Sometimes there were variations, such as adding bacon or eggs, or (gasp!) preparing it open-faced.

If some of the saddest people ever ate grilled cheese to get through their hardships, surely terrorists and counter-terrorists would benefit from its grandiosity, eating together while holding hands and singing Imagine.

Forget about hating people with beliefs different from yours and make yourself a grilled cheese sandwich according to your own specifications. And enjoy it!

Everyone is entitled the right to enjoy cheese.

Hopefully Middle Easterners will read my message and I'll see you in Yemen.

Postscript- This article was originally titled 'Discussing The Disgusting' and took a very serious turn toward Existentialism and the history of human-on-human violence. Wasn't reading about cheese so much better!?!?

Neuyaht -OR- Neil Young

Neuyaht -OR- Neil Young

by
Joseph McConnell (Woo Woo)
Adam Czaplinski (Big Fish)
Rob Cottignies (Smoky Jones)
&
Olga Fedorovna (Crow-talker)
with
Illustrations by Woo Woo and Big Fish

Last year, Odie and I went to Europe with a notebook and recorded random nonsense that we said into it. You can see that glorious blog here. We recently went back to The Continent with another notebook, and for your viewing pain and/or pleasure, here is the result. Enjoy!

It begins. Everyone is distraught.

Sludge butts.

That's some good-looking change.

I like the way you think, Brown Horse. You're on to something.

From Arizona to Ireland in an instant.

Eat grass, sleep, repeat.

Hey man.

Hey what?

Eeee!!

Ohh...

Can you call the president and tell him to turn on the Northern Lights? I have to watch Mike & Molly. They don't have TiVO here.

James Earl Jones is the Aurora Borealis.

Jewish beach bugs.

I certainly don't want to pee into Parliament.

Damn it! Tens with fish on them! I want a fifty with a crab!

I just want a big ass with a pretty face.

Everyone has retards. They just put them away.

Scoop what you can and mix the rest with sand.

This is where we keep our blind priests.

That horse looks like Greta Garbo.

What do you do?

You just eat butt, man.

Visit the Blue Lagoon. It was... comfortable.

What's the point of having a big ass if you can't smack it? Like... why did you grow this!?!

Three boys, three caps.

So you need to find a city with whale meat, a lot of butts, and it's not too hot.

I'm a simple man. I like whale, butts, and jackets.

Don't insult the witch. I'm gonna go insult the witch.

Look, God, there's a lot more to me than just ass.

I bet you that whale meat is good for your memory. They have great memory. They travel a lot.

This... is not... Myrtle Beach.

It starts with your poop. It ends with opening a 10-kroner pizza in Bergen.

Is this Horse Limbo?

Use that time to have a good time.

I like my chocolate like I like my women- dark and they shut the fuck up.

You fuckin' bitch. A bagel wouldn't treat me like this. That's why I fuck bagels, oats, meuslix. It's fucking great.

I can't wait to eat with might be deer or something else.

You are one of the otter people.

"So this is the subway, huh?"

That girl is so tall, her butt is small.

Deep down, every girl likes the smell of egg.

Do you want a piece of gum?

No, I like concerts.

Bam, kids, ten-kroner pizza.

At ease, Pakesh.

I have so much liver paté here.

What are you, gay?

No! You're my doctor! Look at my balls!

Your mom introduced you to Sepultura?

It feels like I'm a southern woman with a huge ass.

Don't rush Pocahontas.

Why are you alive if you can't make fun of fat people?

Complex rice cake.

You and your Medieval Times.

I can't look at those. I get a boner just looking at mannequins.

Poop or Snüss?

She's smiling at him. Is he insane? Is he drunk? Does he not have a ticket? What is going on? I'm confused.

He hit the nerve in his head that was the goat nerve.

Did you see the scallion guy?

Oh yeah? Well I fucked your wife... AND your granddaughter.

Santa Claus, bend your elbows now.

You're a spoon addict!!!

Underwear is like oysters. You never know which one you're gonna lose.

I like it here. Let's leave.

My butt is gonna fart soon. No... I lost it.

People are always looking for shit that soothes their soul. Yeah, that's why I love beer.

7'11. Yeah water, you're in charge of those.

Christiania (Long sigh............................................)

That was Umami. That was Akebakke.

You died on the train.

Is this my special coin? This is my special coin. No, wait. This is my special coin.

I'm pulling out the yellow card, mate.

Checkpoint Charlie? Checkpoint naptime.

Anyone want a chicken?
Chubba-lubba over here wants some food.

You can cut your jeans into funky shapes.

I'm not afraid to hump women and eat buffet. I'm just not interested.

There are three fat girls inside who look like walking potatoes.. and they're loud. Guess where they're from.

Now you know what it's like to have an empire.

It's like my nose is a minty jet pack.

Everyone is their own Beowulf.

"I only have 2 rules: Don't urinate on me and you have to drink your drink after cheersing." -Soup Stain

When did we find out that I am DMX?

Ask somebody's sister.

I'll find the skinny waitress. I'll buy her a chin.

Well, I mean, head zits.

Farmers do anything.

If a mountain could fart, what do you think it would sound like?
Oooooff!
That's what earthquakes are. Mountains farting.

Serious!? We were screaming Backstreet Boys!!!

Real butter or ghost butter?

Blaha No
Astoria Yes

Caribou Death Throat.

I slept like a groundhog.

When you argue with a guy named Soup Stain, it might not make total sense.

Nothing says Budapest like Britney Spears.

Fucking artists, man. Artists will save the world.

Their air circulator is a Rubik's cube.
Your brain is a Rubik's cube!
Yeah, maybe.

Ah, The Perfect Sturm.
[This is the only one I'll explain. In Austria, there is a drink called sturm, which is fermented grape juice in the stage before it becomes wine. It's delicious. Odie, Olga, and I were at a cafe in Vienna and we each ordered sturm. The waiter said, "Ah, The Perfect Sturm." It was awesome.]

Is Olga in the souvenir shop?
No, she's being.

What is he doing, taking wish money?

Dizzy Gillespie.
Dizzy Moocock.
Yeah, that's the one.

That's a good sleeve.

She's tall but her butt is not as nice as the one who was tall and her butt was small.

He likes pork. He is a pork pigeon.

Should we go to Strasbourg?
No, don't kill yourselves.

Where was Jenbach? Where is Jenbach?

It's gone. The plane has been taxied.
That's a good one. I've never heard that before.
I've never said that before.
It probably doesn't make sense.

Jerome will be there.

You have an eye like a diamond for the soup.

A lot of things have to happen in your life to be passed out in the middle of the afternoon on the steps of Vapiano.

No amount of sex is worth getting stabbed over.

You are the bread giver. I am the cheese master.

Oh, we are in a castle, eating cheese and drinking beer. Nice place to be.

You're a tough guy.
Why?
Well, eat this cheese for breakfast. Tough guys do that.

When in Rome, put your cheese outside.

Now is not the time for comfort. Now is the time for train chocolate.

I want to get something off but something is cold and amazing or something.

When you're old you get itchy but can only scratch yourself with soap brushes.

I refuse to do Basel Basel.

I don't need your pity berries.

More sports have no something.

If a walnut falls, you gotta eat it.

Where did you go today?
Buttlessville.

Pumpkins and napkins and locks.

If I get something with a beer, then I'll get a beer.

The goat nerve makes you bleat like a goat.
YeeeAAaarghhh

The butt of the gods was in Bergen. The holy butt of Basel, that all others are envious of, was in Paddy Reilly's. It belonged to the blonde girl with bangs.

Did you hear the Muslim guy trying to swallow his throat?

You can go to Amsterdam, or you can go to Amsterdam... in prison.

Hopefully they don't arrest me and kill me with guns and bullets and goblins.

Trust the Akebakke.

You're not full of love. You're full of cookies!

Even bus drivers know people.

I'm not shaking your hobo hand.

Are you tired?
I'm just existing. I'm tired. But I'm also wired. Tonic is horrible.

You wanna go sit out in the garden?
I'm looking at this chick right here.

When there's a will, there's a way.
When there's no wi-fi, there's no texting.

I want two billion billions.

Anything is the same.

What did you say about Teddy Grahams?

Mayonnaise is God.

They earned the smelly butt.

Dutch Bubba Gump Salad Guy.

Poo Poo Kenya.

They were worse than goblins. Demon goblin trolls of Basel.

We could sit here and watch a bunch of old people eat cheese. Their faces are so funny when they chew.

I'd rather have a Franken-lady than a pregnant lady.

I'm in Hell.
I'm a duck.

I never trust two guys in sweaters.

If he's part maniac he could have been Mumbling Man.

I like the smell of abandoned buildings.

This is where the Brits bring their ladies. Flying Water Douche.

Listening to Barry White in Bruges.

What's your team name?
Pwempay Pee Pee Poo Poo Paa Paaaa.

How do you go to sleep when your bottom half is a bowl of soup?!!!!?

Keep screaming, maniac. I'm going to bed.

Ping Pong Priest is gonna change the world.

I mean, I smell terrible... but I guess I could get drunk.

I've seen some good butts here, but they're not Bruges butts. They're tourist butts.

I might not be good at much, but I'm good at finding beer.

Drinking makes you learn Latin.

Sometimes you just gotta let her marry the fat guy.

Maybe he just talks to floors.

Now you have a Jerome of your own.

Semper Fidelis, Aliquando Insipiens

Semper Fidelis, Aliquando Insipiens
by Rob Cottignies

Firstly, that is Latin for 'Always Loyal, Sometimes Foolish'.

Secondly, read this article.

That editorial was definitely written with a slant because of how it presents the situation. 'Marine Vet' and 'A Marine Veteran' begin its title and the article itself, respectively. The reader is already supposed to be on this guy's side. The next three paragraphs, in order, mention Father's Day and a kid's birthday, the Fourth of July and a military charity, and how long Alejandro served in the Marines and the fact that he was discharged due to disabilities.

After the article refers to the incident as 'outrageous', it finally tells the story- Alejandro wore a shirt which was deemed offensive by Six Flags security but informed them it was not while stating that he served in Iraq. He was then asked to leave the park, which caused his wife and kid to start crying.

Veteran, holidays, family, tears: How are you NOT on this guy's side against the unpatriotic meanie-heads at Six Flags?

Well, I am not, for one simple reason- he thought the rules did not apply to him. Six Flags is a private business which allows it to create its own rules, such as dress code. As written on their website under Park Policies, 'Clothing with rude, vulgar or offensive language or graphics is not permitted ... Park admission may be denied if clothing is deemed by management to be inappropriate.'

An argument against that might be asking who takes the time to read a theme park's clothing policy. Ignorance of a rule is not an excuse to break it.

Also, I was able to find the policies page in less than ten seconds, as anybody else could.

…

I say that 'vulgar' and 'offensive' are up to interpretation, and it WAS just a cheeky T-shirt, but it clearly promoted violence. Because of this, Alejandro was told to change the shirt or leave. My initial thought was that he should have turned the shirt inside-out, thus saving time and money, but this is apparently not an acceptable solution according to the company.

The way I see it, he had these options:

Option A: Go home to change the shirt and come back, allowing everyone to have a wonderful day as intended.

Option B: Purchase and change into a Six Flags shirt, allowing everyone to have a wonderful day as intended. If memory serves me, they have some excellent Bugs Bunny merchandise.

If he was still upset about the situation after choosing either of these reasonable solutions, he could have contacted the people at Six Flags who made the rules instead of shouting at those who enforce them.

-OR-

Option F: Argue with security, throw a fit, attract attention, confuse and fluster his family, and do his best to ensure that no one will have a wonderful day as intended.

I think we all know which option he chose. And I labeled it as Option F because it was an extreme Failure on his part.

The fact that he is a veteran had nothing to do with the situation. The fact that proceeds from the shirt went to a military charity had nothing to do with the situation.

The situation was simply this: Mario Alejandro not only wanted to break a rule but had the idea that the rule did not apply to him. He thought he was exempt and special.

This makes me wonder if he enlisted in the military for his country or himself, knowing that the general public is all-to-eager to laud praise on soldiers. Doesn't the military teach people to not act privileged but follow established orders and rules for the greater good? It is a shame that nobody spoke up to take Alejandro down a peg during his rant.

…

The military is (unfortunately) a necessary entity which should be honored and respected, but when soldiers act the way Mario Alejandro did, it poses the question, 'Do we give them too much?'

There are probably thousands of military-related charities out there. I am not saying they are bad but surely part of their money-raising marketing plans involve tugging at the public's heart strings. (To be fair, the same could be said about many charities.)

These days, one cannot attend a sports event without the military being honored during the National Anthem or simply by pointing out a group of veterans to applaud.

…

One of the saddest military-related displays I have seen was when Chris Rock hosted the Academy Awards in 2005, during Operation Iraqi Freedom. He opened the show by saying that it was dedicated to the troops. A bunch of celebrities stood up to applaud, but this "dedication" ultimately meant nothing. How did a gathering that makes rich people richer honor soldiers away from home fighting a war that most people did not understand? Sure, the awards show was a display of freedom available in this country, but I think they did it simply to attract attention to themselves, like Mario Alejandro.

To close, another article. This one is lengthy and intense but worth the read. I especially like what he says in point number one...

Moose Vs. Goose

Moose vs. Goose: The Eternal Battle Of The Rhyming Animals

by Rob Cottignies

If you're familiar with my articles, such as my war against a word and why I should be allowed to shoot people in the face, you know this blog tackles today's most pressing and serious topics.

The current ultra-important topic is how much better moose are than geese.

It is unfortunate the words 'moose' and 'goose' rhyme in English. However, this mere coincidence is the only likeness between the creatures.

Awkward and clumsy with poor eyesight, the moose is undeniably mighty. It is far from accidental that 'moose' and 'mighty' begin with the same letter.

Another non-accident is how the G in 'mighty' is completely ignored during pronunciation. That letter is silent, as geese should always be.

Geese are not mighty but hiss like snakes because they’re dumb.

A snake's hiss warns me to not go closer to it lest I be struck down by natural poison, which is awesome. Being poisoned wouldn’t be awesome but the phenomenon of snake venom is breathtaking, figuratively and actually but certainly not literally.

A goose hissing makes me simultaneously laugh and angry, both inspiring the thought of grabbing a furry goose child and punting it into a lake.

The only species-confusion moose have is due to Europeans calling them elk. Why do they do this? It’s just one of those things. But if you ask a goose, you'll probably get an answer like 'Duh, I don't know. I'm going to fly in a V pattern with my friends and crap everywhere because I'm rude and awful.'

For the record which nobody is keeping, I am speaking specifically about Canada geese and not any other kind, such as snow geese, or 'snoogeez' as they prefer to be called.

These geese left Canada out of jealousy because moose are amazing and everyone adores them. The geese selfishly reacted by invading Canada’s only land neighbor. Some brave Canadian should petition their duchess-or-whatever-they-have to change the name of these embarrassing creatures, which are the only blemish on the delightful nation’s culture.

…

‘Oh man, my feet are so sore. I’d better put on my goose slippers.’

NOPE!

There’s no such thing. An internet search for them will come up empty.

When seeking ‘moose slippers’, however, you’ll find pictures of many warm and welcoming slippers with some sort of moose head complete with antlers, which are not only practical but adorable.

A search for ‘goose slippers’ will bring you nameless, faceless sleepy shoes which contain feathers from geese and look dreadful when juxtaposed with a wonderful pair of moose slippers.

(Also, I’m very aware that I said a search would come up empty then provided results from said “empty” search. Errors like this happen when one has geese on the brain.)

…

The best thing about moose is how considerate they are.

When offered pluralization, the entire Cervidae family collectively said, ‘Nah, we don’t need an S or anything. Whether there is one of us or a thousand, we will be moose, deer, elk, caribou, and reindeer.’

Geese, on the other hand, totally rewrote the rules of obscenity.

Dictionary people: “So, many of you would be ‘gooses’, right?”

Goose representative: “Not only no, but we demand that you completely change two letters in our singular title. Add a separate entry in your book for our plural form, which MUST come alphabetically first for maximum confusion.”

Mice followed this example and there has been chaos ever since, but mice are not jerks like geese. Calling a mouse by a name one letter different from a moose is simply a fun thing to do, like calling a huge guy Tiny or a fat guy Slim, but don’t call Fat Boy Slim or you’ll hear the same sentence 20 times in a row.

Mice are fun but moose are the best. Once more, geese are the worst.

…

In the world of sports, there are several teams from northerly-latitudinal locations whose mascot is the moose. The Manitoba and Jackson Hole Moose terrorized their respective hockey associations for years. The University Of Maine decided moose are so wonderful that they named the mascot of the *entire* school after the majestic beasts.

To contrast, I found exactly ZERO teams named Geese in my search, which was brief and sloppy because I was afraid of actually finding a team with that name and ruining this whole article.

Remember Tony Siragusa? He was a sports commentator who was mostly famous for being insufferably obnoxious.

What is his nickname? Goose!

Another perfect example to help prove whatever point I am trying to make.

Alternately, football player Daryl “Moose” Johnston is not in the NFL Hall Of Fame but was proudly inducted into the Greater Buffalo Sports Hall Of Fame. Can you name anyone called Goose who holds that honor? I sure can’t, partly because I am unable to name another person in the entity I just found out exists.

Also, there is a basketball player named Greg Monroe whose mighty nickname is Moose. This guy is so good that he’s played for six NBA teams and is now in Germany since there’s apparently a basketball version of Bundesliga.

(How’s *that* for concrete evidence?)

Someone who should have been nicknamed Moose was Benito Mussolini. Not only does the beginning of his surname sound like the grandest of animals, he was good at being a bad guy so perhaps he deserves some kind of credit for it, but he was a violent ally of Hitler so probably not.

I hereby rescind the honorable offer to nickname him Moose.

…

I heard a story of a man who was walking in Fairbanks, Alaska, when he unwittingly strolled between a baby moose and its mother. Fearing her child was in danger, Mama Moose immediately ran at the man, trampling and killing him.

This is indeed a sad and unfortunate story for humans, but how tough is Mama Moose for using her weight and might to stomp out a threat to her kid?

And what would a goose have done in that situation? Hissed; maybe flapped its stupid wings. What potential predator would that deter? A boll weevil. Maybe.

…

To close, have you ever gone to a park? Yes? Good job! Then you must be aware of how annoying it is to avoid 'landmines' on the walking path.

Not only do geese crap everywhere like rude jerks but waiting for one or a series of them to cross said path is excruciating. Coming to a full stop (physically, not the British phrase for a punctuation mark) to watch these morons waddle out of the way is unbearable.

Sometimes you'll witness a goose-battle over a twig-or-whatever when one stupid goose runs at another. This shows they can run but instead choose to move at a snail's pace.

Sorry, snails. I didn’t mean to insult when I compared you to those dreadful birds. You just move slowly, ya know? Sloths do as well but they have sharp claws and I’d rather get slimed by you than sliced up by them.

I feel like there's something else geese actively choose to not do despite it being convenient for everybody…

Oh right, geese are BIRDS with WINGS which enable them to FLY. They can move really fast if they want to but instead real animals must bide our time and, for some reason, not run them over.

Let's change this. Run geese over. Bark at them. Kick their stupid necks. Do anything you can to make their small brains realize that they are the worst species on the planet.

To actually end this rambling, all hail the moose.

Why I Gave Up Giving Up

Why I Gave Up Giving Up
by Rob Cottignies

The word ‘fasting’ has its root in an Old English term meaning ‘voluntary abstinence from food and drink’. This idea is commonly associated with religious observance but we all do it every day. Any period between meals is a fast, which is why in the morning we are known to break it.

Each of the world’s three biggest religions has its own version of a ceremonial time of fasting.

Yom Kippur (‘day of atonement’) is the holiest day of the Jewish calendar, which is currently in its 5,781^st year. On the tenth day of the month of Tishrei, Jews practice five prayer services from sundown on the tenth until the following day’s sundown. During this period, the devout are not allowed to eat, drink, or clean their bodies in any way, including brushing their teeth. Through these acts of abstinence, they seek forgiveness for the sins of themselves and others and ask God for the year until the next Yom Kippur to be prosperous.

Ramadan is the ninth month of the Islamic calendar, which is currently in its 1,442^nd year. This period celebrates Allah guiding the prophet Muhammad with revelations that are now in the Quran. From sunrise to sunset on every day of Ramadan, Muslims abstain from food, drink, physical pleasure, and even medication. This teaches them self-control as they empathize with and give charity to the less fortunate.

Ash Wednesday begins the annual 40-day period known as Lent. Physical ashes (commonly from burned palm leaves) are applied to Christians’ foreheads in the shape of a cross to symbolize repentance (acknowledgement of sins) and the fact that everybody dies (ashes to ashes).

An Old English word meaning ‘lengthen’ (as in days of Spring growing “longer”) gives us Lent. According to the Bible, Jesus fasted for 40 days in the desert while resisting temptations of Satan. During Lent, followers do not eat meat on Fridays (explained later in this article) and give up an everyday luxury such as smoking, social media, or hot sauce, for the entire period.

…

(How about a quirky story after that history lesson?)

A few years ago, I read a book about the world’s religions, cleverly titled The World’s Religions.

Included were explanations of Yom Kippur, Ramadan, and Lent. I have never been religious but the idea of voluntarily abstaining from a small part of everyday life intrigued me.

Since it was early March (and because the idea of not eating for most of a day horrified me), I decided to give up hot sauce for Lent.

This may sound trivial but was a big deal for someone who puts hot sauce on almost everything- Cholula on rice, hot taco sauce on eggs, El Yucateco (green) on pizza, and sriracha on most of the remainder.

(This example of pickiness should demonstrate how serious I am about hot sauce and why it was an appropriate sacrifice.)

Starting March 5^th of that year, I ate many typical meals that would have tasted splendidly with their respective hot sauces, yet denied myself with pride (and several instances of whining and pouting).

…

I gave up after three weeks.

22 days into the 40-day period, I convinced myself that lasting more than half of Lent without hot sauce was a worthy accomplishment.

What happened?

While talking with my dear friend Sam, who gave up alcohol for Lent, we decided life was too short to deny ourselves goodness.

Of course, many people around the world have little goodness, but why should I not embrace what I have by enjoying it? How arrogantly pompous was it for me to say, ‘I’m going to refuse one of the wonderful things in my life for six weeks for no real reason'?

(No reason for me. I understand why Christians do it. Sort of.)

And ‘no reason’ goes straight to my second cause of ceasing the denial- there was no point to me doing it. I study religions but am not religious, so depriving myself hot sauce ultimately hurt only me because I do not subscribe to the implications.

It was a nice experiment and I applaud those who stick with their periods of self-denial, like Sam successfully did. Kudos.

(I planned on doing this again during a religious period or other random phase but, at the time of this writing have not.)

Having known people who lasted for all of Lent only to binge on Easter – missing the point entirely – I did not return to hot sauce in an extravagant manner. I had an average meal with an average amount of hot sauce on it.

Self-discipline and moderation were the goals.

…

[Here is where I change direction to criticize Lent.]

You can see from the beginning of this article there are several versions of fasting, but I think Lent is the most curious.

The idea of not eating meat once per week for a month and a half stems from suffering as Jesus suffered before he was killed.

Admirable notion but does giving up chicken sandwiches once per week really equal being nailed to wood, stabbed, and exposed to the elements until death?

…

Non-land animals such as fish are not considered ‘meat’ and loopholes have been found to allow eating beavers and capybara, since they live near water.

(Picking which rules to follow must be wonderful.)

For another tidbit, going meatless only applies to people over 14 years of age.

I have seen friends who never practiced Christianity subscribe to the no-meat policy. When asked why, they usually gave the verbal equivalent of a shrug.

They just blindly did it because of tradition and/or obligation. How is that honoring anything?

To make it a bit more ridiculous, I knew somebody who gave up shots of alcohol for Lent.

More specifically, he gave up shot-glasses, not alcohol nor drinking small amounts of it. The liquid’s vessel was the target of his abstention. I naturally laughed at this idea until discovering he was serious.

…

Back to the Friday thing, do people actually think that is a requirement of getting into Heaven?

'Well, you cheated on your spouse a bunch of times and coveted your neighbor's snowblower, but you had pizza for a few Fridays out of every year so come on in.'

To the contrary: 'So you donated a lot of time to charity and belonged to a respectable family but ate a hamburger in late March once so you must go downstairs.'

(These were silly examples but hopefully you get the point.)

Just be a decent person. Doing things based on centuries-old rules, which have probably been mistranslated throughout their journey, is a waste of time and perfectly good hot sauce.