Big books and bad bugs
The intrepid Maxwell (Smart) used to say “Missed me by that much!”. Pretty much how I feel.
Today’s newspaper carried the story that a local food dealer had withdrawn a number of their products from the supermarket chain where I shop. Something about possible contamination from a variety of bacteria, Listeria. To which I reply “OMG”, which is also my reaction to OGM. A pathogen that cannot be detected by any of my working senses, and that might require up to a month before there is any manifestation (hence the “OMG”). I might get sick, yet. I have a good feeling about this one, though. While I would normally have piled the couscous and bean salad onto my plate, I think I skipped it, last time around.
Funny how that works. When you have to prepare your own food, from scratch, you tend to gobble it down before the wee bitty buggies have a chance to multiply. In the factory context, there’s a greater risk. And we do love our prepared meals. Time is money, apparently, and while my time is spent making money I can’t afford to prepare from scratch. Part of my whole living dangerously thing.
I’ve finished reading the latest novel (brick) from Neal Stephenson. Reamde. I like it. I’ll go so far as to say that it might not be fiction. After all, I believed the story, from start to drawn out finish. Hackers. The fog of war. Our national frontier as a magnet for loons. This isn’t the first time I’ve sat back after a Stephenson feast with a feeling of literary satisfaction and a need to loosen the proverbial belt. If you want to be distracted for a bit, pick it up. With two hands… it’s a heavy one.
