Violence: A Product of Fear

Car bomb kills 16.
Genocidal ruler sentenced to life.
16 year old raped by 30 men.
Missile hits Doctors Beyond Borders hospital.
Germany takes in nearly half million migrants.

How are these today’s headlines? We expect the natural disasters to a certain extent. But willful violence on this proportion is incredibly difficult to quantify, so being thousands of miles away, it’s equally quite “tuckable” to deeper recesses of the brain; if nothing else, due to a natural dissonance between what we hear and what we can emotionally comprehend.

Violence is something I’ve understood from childhood having lived in a part of a city where the wrong word and seeing the wrong thing can cause things to go very poorly. Somehow, the visceral hate for hate’s sake that we as a world have been witnessing has been far more potent for me. In reading Pinker’s The Better Angels of our Nature, I’ve come to realize that much of the perception of increased violence is due to our pervasive citizen journalism, social media, and moment-to-moment news, which is a phenomenal development for our continual self-awareness as civilization.

It’s been six months since my (then) 8 year old daughter and I witnessed the terrorist attacks in Paris, and in that siren filled night, that dissonance that I mentioned started closing.

However, time away from such feelings blunts the urgency and provides a security blanket. I discovered how false that mental security blanket was when one of the acts of a show I was attending took a turn that I would have viewed through more naïve eyes previously.

Exploding onto the platform was two henchmen backed by James Bond music. The M16s were obviously fake, yet my blood instantly went cold as I tried to breathe. Then James Bond himself came out flashing a Glock in time with the music, dancing about as if there was great fun. All I could see in my head were bullet holes and glass. The henchmen bend down to “check out the crowd” aiming their weapons at us. Everybody cheers for reasons I can’t comprehend because am I can only see the Kalashnikovs brandished by the French soldiers … everywhere.

Then, the pièce de résistance … a cardboard cutout of Donald Trump hits the stage and James Bond takes aim.

Perhaps I could have made more sense of it if the guy sitting next me wasn’t screaming at the top of his lungs ….

SHOOT THE FUCKER!!!!!!!!

… over and over and over and over again.

Flashes of two second scenes crashed into me of what it might have been like at riots or violent political rallies. Then oddly, out of no-where, I felt that thudding music from The Lord of the Rings when Théoden said so calmly as the hopelessly overwhelming army of uruk-hai came to destroy everything:

“…and so it begins.”

Only this violence isn’t from creatures made from evil. It’s simply our neighbors. It’s us when we lose objectively and let our fear control us.

Literary and Historically Inspired Weekend

Indulging my literary and historical romantic senses ...

• sound of vintage music
• sight of old London streets
• touch the steampunk wardrobe
• taste for gin and tonic
• smell of Belgian linen

In such a spirit from my happy Victorian age steampunk ramblings from Moriarty: A Novel (book review), I enjoyed my offscreen and non-book time in a weekend in my own style of steampunk wardrobe....

a-line skirt from two men's trousers and vintage silks

...with the vintage tunes of Elephants on Parade and Blue Skies from last night's Crow & Quill running through my head.....

With the closing of this weekend with my favourite goth-style outfit, I watch the supernatural and monster literary figures of Dorian Gray and Frankenstein shown in the Penny Dreadful (Eva Green) series, preparing me well for a week of enjoying one of my best book purchases in a very long time ... walking through London's low life with Bleak House (Dickens) and Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde (Stevenson), London's high life with Lucia in London (Benson) and Vanity Fair (Thackeray), London's apocalypse with The War of the Worlds (Wells) and The Poison Belt (Doyle), and of course London's changing nature with Dombrey and Son (Dickens) and Captain Nicholas (Walpole).

Moriarty: A Novel (book review)

Moriarty: A Novel by Anthony Horowitz
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Setting is crucial when it comes to enjoying this book. When I found myself simply reading it for reading sake, it was a wee bit predictable for Sherlock freak (me), and some disappointment for an author responsible for Midsomer Murders and Foyle's War.

However, halfway through the book I watched both of Guy Ritchie's Sherlock movies with Robert Downey Jr and Jude Law .... and the book took on an interesting transformation... even unto the points where the predictability was inauthentic, thus providing valuable insights for what was about to unfold. If you find something to be cheap ... not worthy of Sherlock style ... then you are right to question ... and you will be rewarded.

Very much rewarded.

This book is a mood setter for the gritty Victorian era as I pour a gin and tonic and settle in for a lovely afternoon of Penny Dreadfuls.

View all my reviews

The Plan

As discussed in my post earlier this week in Carnivore Meets Rabbit Patch, I felt that there was some carnivorous compensation being attempted any time it was Eric's turn to select meal plans. Also as discussed, I was determined to create the ultimate meal that fulfilled the important senses of sight, smell, and taste ... and did not involve meat.

This took literally three days.

My plan was to go simple yet beautiful. That, of course, requires cheese and bread, so the vegan approach was set aside for more moderate views. But not just any cheese. MY OWN CHEESE! Yes, you heard me. And yes, I fully grasp the level of over-compensation that I employed in order to combat Eric's meat compensation that would have never occurred if I would have simply tossed him a piece of bacon in the first place.

Moving on.

The cheese plan would indeed take 3 days. I wanted to make my own buttermilk and sour cream for the chilled buttermilk and cucumber soup that I had selected, but even I understand limits.

Back to my farmer's cheese. It's actually very simple ... just take milk and heavy cream, mix them up, and set in a temperate area of the pantry for 72 hours.

72 hours later .... can we say GROSS?

In the oven for 30 minutes ... I'm deeply shocked that it smells delicious despite the looks.

If you want it warm on bread, drain for 30 minutes; otherwise, up to a couple hours. Tart, but actually quite good!

So for $1.50 and way too much awareness of what cheese actually IS, I have a beautiful ball of farmer's cheese for up to a week....

There. The first course was prepared. Onward to simple, yet gorgeous soup.

Mandolin, check.
Very sharp and high quality knives of various sizes, check.
Sweet white onion, fennel, cucumber; all cut on the bias into half moons, check.
Fenugreek sprouts, fresh garden dill, and tiny clover flowers from the garden, check.

Everything collected, everything prepped. Absolutely NO cooking, but lots of marinating and cautious set-up for .... VOILA!!!!!!

A meal of true beauty. Deep pride as I served my chilled buttermilk and cucumber soup with a sideboard of heavy crusty bread with my very own farmer's cheese drizzled with local honey. 

I was indeed lauded with praise, as we finished a bottle of wine, preparing for a late movie down the street at ABC Brewing.

Would you believe that he ordered wings? I would be mad, except he gave me a bite.

Carnivore meets Rabbit Patch

Don't get me wrong, bacon will roll me out of bed any day of the week, AND I'm finding myself happier in the veg/vegan camp these days.

Perhaps it was the beautiful growing greens in what I affectionally call my Rabbit Patch. Perhaps it was my desire to eat more healthily that resulted in a lot more veg. Perhaps it was my focus to practice more sustainability with my garden.

Whatever the trigger, the result is that meat feels pretty heavy. I mean really really heavy. Carbs already made me feel bloated, and my lactose intolerance has been far more temperamental of late. My point is that I don't have an allergy or position regarding, meat, gluten, fish or veg. In fact, in the right circumstances, all can be quite good. I don't even have a fake position (except the dairy issue), to echo a friend from Seattle :) 

Listening to my body though, has de-motivated me from partaking of that pancake, ribeye, or a pint. 

I had not fully realised what a different journey Eric and I were on until we decided to really enjoy our kitchen this week. We love to cook together, so we each selected a cookbook to explore. Of course I selected one of my favourites: Afro-Vegan .... as images of tofu, green mustards, collards, and cashew milk flitted across my brain. 

Then I saw Eric pull down The Iraqi .... hrm... I love lamb, but didn't recall much else really. Sure enough. Kebab milouky can be interpreted as baked kebab and bread. Absurdly delicious, and frankly, the Iraqi version of pot pie. One green pepper and some parsley, and yeah, heavy. But no worries, the breakfast mekhlama? A nice "light" ground meat scramble with eggs ... this time served Baghdad style to include hot bread (toast) on the bottom. *wheel me away Scottie*

It's quite possible that there was some compensation, sub conscience at the very least from my previous evening's tofu curry with mustard greens (spiced nicely with spicy mustard green harissa) and my savory grits with slow-cooked collard greens ... all vegan. 

But do you know what really burns my ass? 

Vegan eating: 

4,323 components

231 steps

MILLIONS of prep hours

The meat dish?

Yeah, I need to pop to the grocer and grab three things; dinner will be on in about an hour.

Adding insult to injury, tonight's cajun selection by Eric from our New Orlean's cookbook required two items:

• a shallot
• pork tenderloin

Granted, we did have everything else for what promises to be a wonderful meal paired with our garden fresh spinach, but SERIOUSLY!!!! 

It's on now. Dairy issues or not, tomorrow will be a complete mind loss with Bar Tartine, including my own homemade Farmer's cheese. If it's going to take me a billion hours to make something, I'm going all out.

Keep tuned ... and if you feel a disturbance in the force tomorrow, as in all day tomorrow; just ignore it.