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Thursday, August 24, 2006

(9:52 AM) | Adam Kotsko:

Cereal Killer

I never feel quite right if I don't have a bowl of cereal in the morning, even if I'm having something nice like French toast. Almost every day, I have Frosted Mini-Wheats, as I have since I was in junior high -- with some interruptions now and then. I went through a Frosted Flakes phase and found that it was only good if I was able to eat it quickly, while it was still crunchy. Right now I'm eating Frosted Cheerios, not because of any particular fetish with frosting, but because I have a rule against ever paying more than $2 for a box of cereal, and the Frosted Cheerios were the only option last time I was at the store.

It's delightful to drink the milk after eating a frosted cereal -- I feel like I could drink milk forever if it all tasted like that. How awful, by comparison, to drink the milk after eating the dread Honey Bunches of Oats! Within three seconds of pouring the milk, you're dealing with a soggy disgusting mess -- with the exception of the "bunches of oats" themselves, of course. By the time you're done, all the flakes have disintegrated, and there's always this residue. It's consistently pretty cheap, but my supplementary rule for cereal-shopping is never to get Honey Bunches of Oats unless literally every other kind of cereal is $6 a box.

What cereal do you eat?

UPDATE: Man, I just do not want to read today. Does anyone want to play ping-pong? We'd have to find a table first.

Other things I don't want to do:

Play piano
Do the dishes
Clean the bathroom
Make lunch
Go anywhere
Stay home
Take a shower
Shave -- I've got some vicious growth
Write anything of substance
Check yet another task off a list
Listen to music
Learn a foreign language
Watch television, particularly the following:
- Seinfeld
- South Park
- Family Guy
- House
- Chappelle's Show
- Daily Show
- Colbert Report
Get a haircut
Check my bank balance
Read blogs
Post this list

Ladies and gentlemen, we may very well have a case of depression on our hands! Yet again, I am discovering that the world has not been properly fashioned. The question is whether I can use this particular occasion to cut below all the specific fears, disappointments, etc., and encounter my existential angst -- but then what would I do? Does one shake one's fist at finitude as such? No, I'd have to take the leap of faith, then land right back in the same location, but differently. Or I could talk about it in Lacanian terms: FACE THE REAL, MOTHER FUCKER! I'm a part of no part, and I always have been, ever since I opened my stupid mouth.

I've always wanted to be saved, but it never "took." Probably because I never did it right -- I've never been a very trusting person, always poised for someone to rip me off, even when I'm just walking down the street. [Editor's note: This seemed disproportionate, in retrospect.]

Craziness. I actually posted this cereal thing because I'm so sick of people telling me they feel lost in the "philosophy posts," and here I am, whining philosophically.

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(Adam Kotsko has asserted the moral right to be identified as the author of this post.)