26 September 2006

The Onion Of Confusion

You know all about the Onion of Confusion, Allium Dumfukium, surely. It turns up in all sorts of dishes regularly on the menu (if you happen to be me), such as the humble Stew of Humiliation or the more spectacular, crowd-drawing (crowd demanding) Credibility Flambe.

Sometimes it is a meal in its own right, but is mostly proferred as Possibility Surprise; a delicacy set upon a bed of desperation, that involves slowly peeling and consuming your very personal and large onion of confusion one pungent, eye watering layer at a time, in the sure knowledge that the entire thing is steeped in a marinade of faint hope and therefore may just contain a possibility. Possibilities are like fortune cookies; mostly hollow, more usually containing trite philosophies than anything remotely complimentary to said marinade; highly unlikely to come close to soothing the passage of the vicious root, and generally, if approached too swiftly, leave you with nothing but the taste of cheap paper (and lost possibilities, of course), and another good reason for chronic indigestion.

This is what is known to the gods of perplexity and mortification as a double-triple whammy with a cherry on the top*. It is a riddle more demonic than the whole chicken and egg thing and therefore pleases them immensely, even though it is based entirely on a stupid pun. See one might feel like a dumfukium having consumed said delicacy. One might also feel like a dumfukium having conversely been consumed by it, 'it' being confusion, after all - in other words between you and the onion, it doesn't matter which consumes the other, you still get to feel really incredibly stupid.
*No, there isn't really one at all. It just pleases them if your mind ends up so fried that you actually ask why you never got your cherry.

After all that (or more precisely before it), one has to take into account that free will exists, that consumption of such a meal (or, as established, consumption by it**) is a matter of choice, so that one could be said to 'feel like a dumfukium' , just as one might 'feel like a bite to eat', before actually coming into any sort of contact with the damnable bulb.
**Highly unlikely, which makes it inevitable. I mean, that's confusion for you.

It has to be said that one must surely be either mortally stupid or terminally confused to contemplate such an action, ergo the onion wins, having you in its grasp before you even know of its existence. In other words, confusion is a temporally resistant state which afflicts us all from the first moment of awareness. This would be a comfort if not for those who spend their lives trying to hide their condition through massive consumption of the Cola of hot air, the caviar of groundless superiority***, or cow pie.
***Of course groundless; this is fish eggs, people. I accept caviar as a symbol of gentility if you accept pigs trotters for the same reason. Q: If the trotters were also groundless, would they have to come from flying pigs?

My day today was one huge allium experience; one delicacy after another (although I think I just avoided the flambe on a technicality due to a deficiency in spectator numbers), each gulp drier than the one before. I'd like to say that's another story but it isn't, it's exactly the same one. I'm just too confused to tell you about it; OK?

10 comments:

Stegbeetle said...

Cheryl, sometimes your confuse me immensely. But I love you dearly!

Your sounding a little more your old self, you know that?

rashbre said...

I find these tablets help.

rashbre

zilla said...

I agree with stegbeetle -- the old self is once again beginning to shine through, and yippee for that! I have never read a clearer explanation of confusion. Ever. Bravo! You're on your game, even if you had a shitty day.

Note that I am resisting the urge to demand details. (But please e-mail me with the details if you're so inspired!)

PS: I love the onion analogy even moreso than Lindberg's seashell analogy.

fargin' word verification: elsbzvsd

Miss Cellania said...

I just adore the way you write.

fineartist said...

Okay.

Oh man, oh man, I had the exact same intuition as Steg and Z...YOU are BACK. I knew it the moment I had to read this post twice, okay, okay, thrice.

CHERYL'S BACK KIDS, anybody thirsty?

If we're talking about dinner, dining, meals eaten with a foot in the mouth, or tasting like crow, honey I'm with ya at the buffet and lem me tell ya, I'm FULL.

Only my dinner has been steadily interrupted by friggen' fraggin' phone calls, repeatedly. So while I'm picking the bones out of my mouth from the crow, or gaging a little from the toe jam, the frappin' phone is ringing off the ding dang wall...with more news. And sister I am beginning to hate the news. Cringe.

Sorry, rant over.

I love ya, I love the way you make me think, and I LOVE THE WAY YOU WRITE. I would read your tea leaves, I would read your map directions, hell, I'd read a text book if you wrote it. You are the bomb chicky, and tomorrow has got to be better.

It's only up from here. xx, Lori

Liz Strauss said...

Yep, I'm with all of them. This is the Cheryl I met just about one year ago. No matter how confused I was in the middle of this one -- I didn't know about allium, I'm still not sure what it is that I know -- you always slam dunk the ending. :)

Atyllah said...

Blogger ate the comment I left yesterday! Waaaah!

I think I said something like...
Rolling around on the floor laughing. You might have been confused but you portrayed it with brilliant wit, worthy of a Pratchett accolade!

Cheryl said...

Rashbre - brilliant.

The rest of you - wow, I'm stuck for words. Except I ma hearing perhaps, that 'shorter sentences' would be a good goal?

:-) Huge hugs at you all

beckyboop said...

Your metephores are fabulous. I loved this post. All of us have experience confusion in life. Most of us can't convey it the way you did. Hope life gets less confusing.

Becky

Astryngia said...

Surreal - and one to treasure! :-)