Imagine my frustration to discover that not everything I gripe about here is immediately remedied. Yesterday's fulminations included carping about silly drinks, and an hommage to George Orwell -- business as usual, in other words:
As George Orwell pointed out long ago, when we are sloppy with words, we get sloppy with ideas, and then we have facism.* Recently, the Post had an article on the crimes commited in the name of the martini. The osso bucco situation is more akin to the degeneration of the gimlet.
A perusal of The Food Section suggests I may have jumped the gun. I: Hungry people now construed as experiencing "very low food security." (Tell that to your niece the next time she wants to play Hungry Hungry Hippos.) II: People in Brooklyn are putting pork in their margaritas. Not only tempora, but also mores. It might be too much to hope that a real rain comes along for the USDA and the restaurant serving the pork margaritas, but I can't root against it.
I felt it before and I feel it again: it is the facism that really has me worried.
Posted by: Isis | Tuesday, 21 November 2006 at 04:54 PM