I direct your attention to Mr. Hess’ comment to Mr. Biteyoureyes first posting. Mr. Hess suggests that the raison d’etre for Yesterday’s Salad is “outward pretension,” and, as such, we should avoid such self-referential columns as Mr. Biteyoureyes brilliant debut feuilleton. Part of his claim is that pretension is an inherently negative characteristic, but that the spirit of whimsy imbibed in our outward pretension elevates us from that definition. But is this true? Is pretension truly negative?

To begin the analysis, I will make the working assumption that Mr. Hess is using definition 3b of pretension: The unwarranted assumption of a quality, esp. of merit or dignity; pretentiousness, ostentation. Truly this is a negative virtue if there ever was one. An aside: one could make a strong case that our use of “pretension” instead of “pretentiousness” is a sign of our undeniable pretension. While I will not comment on such a dissimulated accusation, i will suggest that we begin using “pretense-adj,” (Pretended, alleged, professed; feigned; dissembling, fictitious; obs.) wherever possible.

But this is hardly the only definition of pretension. The primary definition for pretension is, “An allegation or assertion the truth of which is not proved or admitted; often with an implication that it is unfounded or false, or put forth to deceive, or to provide a false excuse or ground.”

however, the word also means: “The assertion or claim that one is or has something.”

this is similar to the first meaning, and also close to definition 3b. the idea of pretension is that a claim is made without providing evidence. this claim could either be by right and true, or not. this leads to the now nearly obs. definition, “An intention, a design; aim, aspiration.” these are all positive claims being made without any sort of substantiation. they may not come true, but the connotations of all these words (except maybe design) are positive. still, this positive definition is fading, giving credence to mr.  hess.

we should remember, however, that the root idea of pretension is “pretend.” that the idea of claiming something wrongly, or feigning, is that one is pretending. to this i suggest that we at the salad are not pretending. we are who we are: a mirthful collection of aspiring plutocrats, wiling away their salad-days.

The Soul of The Salad

January 20, 2007

It is both the great advantage and the great shortcoming of being me, that I cannot begin something without the intention of 1) completing it to the best of my ability and sometimes beyond that (the bestest of my ability) 2) understanding everything there is to understand about that something’s “soul.”

Neither of these are very smart intentions to adopt, and to tell you the truth, if I had a choice I never would have adopted them. I could go into this into further detail, but you shouldn’t care about whether I do or I don’t. If you do care whether I do or I don’t, then I don’t know what to tell you – or maybe I do. Or don’t. Or do or don’t. Ordordont. Order do not. Do not order. Do not order the fajitas.

The point is, in addition to contributing to the best of this blog to best of my ability, I need to understand its soul. This need, once fulfilled, is like a drug to me. Someday, this obsession will destroy my children and isolate my wives. I don’t care, I’ll get new wives (how could they feel isolated then, eh?), make more children. But I digress. The question – at hand and at foot: What is at the soul of Yesterday’s Salad?

We’ll, obviously, the soul of this blog belongs in the past, specifically, it seems to have been born yesterday. Worse, it was born a salad. And that leads to my first theory:

1) Yesterday’s Salad is a support group for disgruntled carnivores. Think about this. Why, today, is there still salad left over? Because all we did yesterday was eat meat, meat, animal, and more meat (the difference between meat and animal is that animal is still alive). And so, this blog just might be a means of support to all of those, bloggers and blog readers alike, dealing with the repercussive guilt of not utilizing our flatter, squarer teeth. Personally, I say to hell with these teeth. I delight in envisioning a uneaten, wilting salad weeping before me on the kitchen table. In fact, let it wilt and weep on the floor. The cat won’t eat it. No one will. Salad does not belong to today – which is the day of sandwiches, sandwiches made out of meat and animal (there’s a post all on it’s own, How to Eat an Animal Sandwich While Said Animal is Not Yet Dead). The salad, we will deal with tomorrow, once we have gloried in meat. So that’s theory number one. It’s wrong.

2) Sticking with the assumption that wherever the salad’s soul lies, that it lies somewhere in the past, we must, dutifully, consider the likeliest moments in American history (no other history means anything, anymore, after the universe realigned itself to revolve around Hollywood, CA) wherein the soul of said salad would most likely have found its first genesis. As opposed to its second genesis, which if I am not mistaken would have been Sega CD. Therefore, because I seem to have already arrived at this point, and because I don’t feel like really thinking any more about this theory, I’m going to go ahead and propose that the salad about which this blog revolves (or, at least, its soul) came into being the moment the first Sega CD came off the assemblyline. Streets of Rage was a wonderful video game.

3) This third theory is short, simple, and perhaps one of the likelier theories. I posit that Yesterday’s Salad, despite technically having its origins in the past, is in fact a product of the day. You see, it was made in the present, but because the ingredients for the salad were bought at a local C-Town Grocery Store, it might as well have been made last week, never mind yesterday.

4) The salad was originally a lunchtime salad ordered at a cafe by one friend while another friend teleconferenced in to the lunch from a far away location, via his/her new iSight camera, which is built into his/her new Macbook Pro. The feelings of loneliness and longing existing between the two separated friends (despite the near-constant contact they were been able to sustain due to the internet, cell phones, and courier new service ((ten times faster than plain old courier service))) manifested itself physically as a longing by the saladless and faraway friend for a bite of the closer and saladed friend’s…salad. Is that confusing? I don’t care.

The point is that, as a sign of his/her devotion and affection as a friend, the saladed one saved a substantial amount of his/her salad for the saladless, and, once the lunch was over, proceeded to the nearest FedEx, where he/she then overnighted the remnants of said salad to the previously saladless friend – who the next day became the saladed friend. But something, by then, had changed. It was not the salad of today, but in fact: Yesterday’s Salad.

I bite your eyes.