THE GURGLING COD

Cotton Mather has a hot sauce

It's home grown Inner Beauty, in the special Cotton Mather Wound in the Face Edition packaging, courtesy of the cinetrix. 

Halloween Public Service

I have of late, obvs, lost my blog mirth. With any luck, I'll find it. Halloween as an adult in a college town means saying a little prayer when you leave the house that the student you bump into at the super market has chosen something wholesome, like Alice in Wonderland, rather than, say, O. But for those of you with children, or who are children, a guide to kids' chalk trick or treating symbols. (The Werthers Originals is at left.)* There are many more than you would think, and quite clever. Better yet, it conjures up a world where little kids are more like hobos than usual. Come to think of it, with the way things are going, that's not bad experience to have.
*No symbol yet for "cranky fesser who just might give you an offprint of an article he wrote."

No on Prop 8

It's Write to Marry Day, where bloggers speak out against the retardedness of Prop. 8. Here is the Gurgling Cod's guide to witnessing to clueless homophobes from 2006. Hope it helps. Hope it works:

Many of you will have the chance tomorrow to vote on a definition of marriage amendment in one form or another. By and large, these are initiatives that seek to define a marriage as a union of one woman and one man, with the idea being that other kinds of couples, like two dudes or two ladies, should not be entitled to the same privileges as straight couples. If you are considering supporting such an initiative, a few thoughts:

     1) Supporting same-sex unions does not make you gay. You might be a dude who thinks sex with another dude is totally icky. However, that seems like a poor reason to deny a couple the right to make medical decisions on behalf of one another.

 2) If gay people make you uncomfortable, are you less comfortable with gay couples refinishing antique furniture and grooming their pets, or with single gay folks hanging out at rest areas? Is allowing same-sex partners to claim survivors’ pension and Social Security benefits likely to lead to an explosion of gay sex where your kids will see?

 3) You may feel that the purpose of marriage is procreation. By this logic, infertile couples would not be allowed to marry either. Indeed, under this logic, couples would have to prove they were fertile before they could get married, raising the specter of compulsory premarital sex to uphold the institution of marriage. Also, the last time I checked, there was not a population shortage. Should health insurance be a special treat for potential baby-havers?

 4) It says “Adam and Eve” in the Bible, not “Adam and Steve.” True enough. Yet, many hetero couples are not named Adam or Eve. More generally, I would argue that arguing from a genital identity degrades the very idea of what marriage is. If marriage is a union of two people who are uniquely suited to one another, why define that bond in terms of what your spouse has in common with every other member of their gender? If it is your husband’s penis or your wife’s vagina that defines that person for you, your marriage is in trouble.

 5) If you want a special, hetero-only blessing for your union, there are many churches that would be happy to help you out. Have your religious ceremony, and thumb your nose at the gays all you want, but depriving other folks of their civil rights is a pretty lame way to make your marriage more special. The Fesser and the cinetrix tied the knot in Massachusetts before the gays could marry there, and that state’s subsequent sanction of same-sex partnerships has not undermined our relationship to any significant degree.

I will clamber off my soapbox now. Don't forget to vote tomorrow.

Department of Detumescence

 
When there is a Bizzaro version of Boner Party, "Podcast from NYC's sexiest chef" would be a good place to start. If sideburns and a D.A. are sexy, then that dude from Sha Na Na must be getting ass like a portapotty at Coachella.

Your favorite recording artist is a condiment.

Moving beyond Marmite artists, Idolator characterizes a variety of bands in terms of the condiment they resemble:

Mustard: Popular in its original form, but also available in spicy variations.
Key characteristics:Masters of reinvention; have found mainstream success with one genre of music, but can’t wait to go all Dijon and become something entirely different; tend to find success in most everything they do, to the chagrin of safe-but-steady ketchup bands.
Sample artists: Damon Albarn, Ne-Yo, Justin Timberlake.
When they're past their sell-by date: When they take it one step too far and become children’s book authors.

I feel some inchoate desire to explain why the Pixies are that stuff they put on muffulettas. I also think it would be fun to start a band by advertising your condiment ambitions, rather than your musical influences:
Songwriter/Bassist seeks drummer and guitarist to become the Inner Beauty/Duke's Mayonnaise of the music world."

Barack Obama for President

The Gurgling Cod endorses Barack Obama for president of the United States.

Take your protein pills and put your helmet on

That question of what's for dinner has been solved.
 

Molotov Cocktail Party

The Cod is feeling becalmed, foodwise, but as a public service, must share the following. This week, the eyes of the world will be on Jacksonville, and the Contest Formerly Known as The World's Largest Cocktail Party. If you're heading  that way, do be sure to shop at Chowder Ted's. But Gator or Bulldog,, the following seems like just the thing to play before what promises to be a spirited contest.
Vivi Bach & Dietmar Schonherr,  "Molotov Cocktail Party" .mp3

Asado & Disco

Homesick Texan drops  a receipt for a mexican pork disk called asado (not asada). Looks like just the thing for the next manly gathering. So, like, dayenu, right? Yes, but the receipt includes instructions on how to make your own implement for this dish out of a tractor harrow. It involves welding. Last I checked, they ain't selling these at Sur La Table, so recognize. But wait, there's more. One of the commenters offers a solution for the welding averse, which would be lame,  but the man who sells these readymade does business under the name Mr. Dutch Oven. It makes me want to have Tex Cobb, Andrew Jackson, and Willy Korn over for dinner.

Newphemism

John Mariani has given us a rare gift -- a brand new way to identify hot chicks you want to do:
"Number of Restaurants Visited: 115...Number of Really Rotten Meals: 10...Number of new Restaurants with Ear-Shattering Decibel Levels: 55...Number of Hottie Hostesses I Want my Sons to Meet: 12."
Try it yourself: "I would like my sons to meet Ludivine Sagnier." Or, perhaps, "I would like my sons to meet Zooey Deschanel." Also, worth noting that it's actually a lot creepier than, say, "hottie hostesses I wished I could immediately bang in the cloakroom," because it suggests that Mariani encounters the hostess, and imagines a future of looking down his daughter-in-law's blouse at Thanksgiving. Awkward.