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She was covered in cats. So I’ve been cooking her some ginseng root soup. I’ve read that when a family member is sick in old China, the family will often do whatever it takes to get a piece of the right kind of ginseng root for the soup (I believe it’s “red” or “Panax” ginseng - it’s not that “Siberian Ginseng,” which is a scam, by the way). I don’t remember where I read this about the ginseng soup, so this may or may not be accurate. I think I read about the soup at the same place I got the recipe for it - browse-reading the herbal healing books at this hokey New Age store in my neighborhood, the yellow building with a bunch of new-age stuff painted on the outside of it. Have you seen the pointed hexagonal quartz crystals they sell at that place? They’re huge! I’m not kidding. Some are like the size of half a baseball bat. If somebody was ever, like, hexing me, or giving me the evil eye or something, I’d march down to that store and buy the biggest quartz crystal they had and then I’d use it to zap the shit out of the person cursing me. I’d use it to seriously fuck their cosmic shit up and get their kundalini all twisted up and shit. I’m just kidding. I make it a policy not to zap people with cystals. I just don’t want to get that kind a reputation. Because then if something bad happened to somebody I knew, that person would always be wondering, in the back of his or her mind, things like: “I wonder if the reason [that unlucky thing happened to me] was that fucker Brian Morris zapped me with that big cystal he’s got?” And, for instance, at night when everybody’s walking home separately from a bar, people’d be like: “I was just joking about that thing I said tonight – I hope that fucker Brian Morris doesn’t take it seriously and decide to zap with me that big crystal he’s got!” The worst part about crystal zapping is that you don’t know whether you’ve been zapped or if you’re just having some bad luck, and even if you know you did get zapped, you don’t know by whom or when. So somebody could have a run of perfectly naturally occuring bad luck but think that I zapped them with my crystal, and then they’d maybe buy their own huge crystal and zap me with it even though I didn’t do anything. Then maybe I could retailiate with my huge crystal, but what if they bought an even bigger crystal than me?” See, these are the things that could happen. I don’t know if this herbal Chinese soup is going to help or not. I mean, I don’t doubt it will help some, I just don’t know if it will help enough to counteract all the stress caused by me making a huge mess in the kitchen. I didn’t think she’d know I was cooking – she’s too sick to get off the couch. I tried to be quiet, too, but she figured out what was going on as I was chopping carrots. “What are you doing in there!?” She cried out from the living room. “Oh No! You’re not cooking, are you!?…Are you making a mess?!…Please cook on ‘medium,’ you know that ‘extra-hi’ is bad for the pots and stove!…Woe!” Well, we’ve had that cooking heat level argument before. I can’t help it. I’m an “extra-hi” kind of guy. The soup smells delicious. Everybody around here wants to eat some. But I’m not about to give it to a healthy person, it would fuck their chi up. This isn’t a popularity contest. I have an obligation. If I let people mess their chi up by eating my soup that would make me an irresponsible holistic healer. I’m also trying to stick as closely as possible to the recipe I have (you don’t even want to know what I used as a substitute for “chicken faces”) but everybody wants to add something of their own. I’m not letting them. If they want to make some soup then they’ll just have to go out and get their own ancient Chinese secret. Brian 3:10 PM Comments: Post a Comment

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House of Noh!

Sunday, October 10, 2004

I returned to my ancestral homeland to find my mother sick with some sort of horrible flu. When I arrived I saw her car in the driveway but I couldn’t find her inside. I eventually discovered her on the couch in the living room. I guess that she had been trying to call out to me from the time I entered the house, but the only noises she could make were pathetic, very quiet, croaking noises and I didn’t hear her. So there she was, all surrounded by dirty kleenexes, wrapped up in quilts and with a thermometer in her mouth. She was covered in cats. So I’ve been cooking her some ginseng root soup. I’ve read that when a family member is sick in old China, the family will often do whatever it takes to get a piece of the right kind of ginseng root for the soup (I believe it’s “red” or “Panax” ginseng - it’s not that “Siberian Ginseng,” which is a scam, by the way). I don’t remember where I read this about the ginseng soup, so this may or may not be accurate. I think I read about the soup at the same place I got the recipe for it - browse-reading the herbal healing books at this hokey New Age store in my neighborhood, the yellow building with a bunch of new-age stuff painted on the outside of it. Have you seen the pointed hexagonal quartz crystals they sell at that place? They’re huge! I’m not kidding. Some are like the size of half a baseball bat. If somebody was ever, like, hexing me, or giving me the evil eye or something, I’d march down to that store and buy the biggest quartz crystal they had and then I’d use it to zap the shit out of the person cursing me. I’d use it to seriously fuck their cosmic shit up and get their kundalini all twisted up and shit. I’m just kidding. I make it a policy not to zap people with cystals. I just don’t want to get that kind a reputation. Because then if something bad happened to somebody I knew, that person would always be wondering, in the back of his or her mind, things like: “I wonder if the reason [that unlucky thing happened to me] was that fucker Brian Morris zapped me with that big cystal he’s got?” And, for instance, at night when everybody’s walking home separately from a bar, people’d be like: “I was just joking about that thing I said tonight – I hope that fucker Brian Morris doesn’t take it seriously and decide to zap with me that big crystal he’s got!” The worst part about crystal zapping is that you don’t know whether you’ve been zapped or if you’re just having some bad luck, and even if you know you did get zapped, you don’t know by whom or when. So somebody could have a run of perfectly naturally occuring bad luck but think that I zapped them with my crystal, and then they’d maybe buy their own huge crystal and zap me with it even though I didn’t do anything. Then maybe I could retailiate with my huge crystal, but what if they bought an even bigger crystal than me?” See, these are the things that could happen. I don’t know if this herbal Chinese soup is going to help or not. I mean, I don’t doubt it will help some, I just don’t know if it will help enough to counteract all the stress caused by me making a huge mess in the kitchen. I didn’t think she’d know I was cooking – she’s too sick to get off the couch. I tried to be quiet, too, but she figured out what was going on as I was chopping carrots. “What are you doing in there!?” She cried out from the living room. “Oh No! You’re not cooking, are you!?…Are you making a mess?!…Please cook on ‘medium,’ you know that ‘extra-hi’ is bad for the pots and stove!…Woe!” Well, we’ve had that cooking heat level argument before. I can’t help it. I’m an “extra-hi” kind of guy. The soup smells delicious. Everybody around here wants to eat some. But I’m not about to give it to a healthy person, it would fuck their chi up. This isn’t a popularity contest. I have an obligation. If I let people mess their chi up by eating my soup that would make me an irresponsible holistic healer. I’m also trying to stick as closely as possible to the recipe I have (you don’t even want to know what I used as a substitute for “chicken faces”) but everybody wants to add something of their own. I’m not letting them. If they want to make some soup then they’ll just have to go out and get their own ancient Chinese secret.

Brian 3:10 PM

Comments: Post a Comment

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House of Noh!

Sunday, October 10, 2004