Humor- The Existential (fwd)

[Michelle Todd]

> Jean-Paul Sartre's cooking diary
>
>  October 3 - Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook. Though he has
>  never actually eaten, he gave me much encouragement. I rushed home
>  immediately to begin work. How excited I am! I have begun my formula
>  for a Denver omelet.
>
>  October 4 - Still working on the omelet. There have been stumbling
>  blocks. I keep creating omelets one after another, like soldiers
>  marching into the sea, but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone.
>  I want to create an omelet that expresses the meaninglessness of
>  existence, and instead they taste like cheese. I look at them on the
>  plate, but they do not look back. Tried eating them with the lights
>  off. It did not help. Malraux suggested paprika.
>
>  October 6 - I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs and
>  cheese) is bourgeois. Today I tried making one out of cigarettes, some
>  coffee, and four tiny stones. I fed it to Malraux, who puked. I am
>  encouraged, but my journey is still long.
>
>  October 10 - I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations of
>  traditional dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I feel so
>  acutely. Today I tried this recipe:
>
>       Tuna Casserole
>
>       Ingredients:      1 large casserole dish
>
>       Instructions:     Place the casserole dish in a cold oven. Place
>                         a chair facing the oven and sit in it forever.
>                         Think about how hungry you are.  When night falls,
>                         do not turn on the light.
>
>  While a void is expressed in this recipe, I am struck by its
>  inapplicability to the bourgeois lifestyle. How can the eater recognize
>  that the food denied him is a tuna casserole and not some other dish? I
>  am becoming more and more frustrated.
>
>  October 25 - I have been forced to abandon the project of producing an
>  entire cookbook. Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by itself,
>  embody the plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling God, as well as
>  providing the eater with at least one ingredient from each of the four
>  basic food groups. To this end, I purchased six hundred pounds of
>  foodstuffs from the corner grocery and locked myself in the kitchen,
>  refusing to admit anyone.  After several weeks of work, I produced a
>  recipe calling for two eggs, half a cup of flour, four tons of beef, and
>  a leek. While this is a start, I am afraid I still have much work ahead.
>
>  November 15 - Today I made a Black Forest gateau out of five pounds of
>  cherries and a live beaver, challenging the very definition of the word
>  gateau. I was very pleased. Malraux said he admired it greatly, but
>  would not stay for dessert. Still, I feel that this may be my most
>  profound achievement yet, and have resolved to enter it in the Betty
>  Crocker Bake-Off.
>
>  November 30 - Today was the day of the Bake-Off. Alas, things did not
>  go as I had hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated and
>  bit Betty Crocker's wrist. The beaver's powerful jaws are capable of
>  felling blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless to say,
>  more than a match for the tender limbs of America's favorite homemaker.
>  I only got third place. Moreover, I am now the subject of a rather
>  nasty lawsuit.
>
>  December 1 - I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two
>  months, and I am now experiencing light tides. It is stupid to be so fat.
>  My pain and ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they were when I
>  was thin, but seem to impress girls far less. From now on, I will live
>  on cigarettes and black coffee.
>  ------------------------------------------------------------
>
>