So I thought it was a bit odd that my profile wouldn't save my response to the question that was basically asking: what would you do if your tongue was magnetic? What silverware would you use? I kept writing and writing wondering when I would satisfy the 150 character requirement, when after six hundred and howevermanywordsIlostcount words I realized the message was supposed to be no MORE than 150 characters. So, instead I've provided it here. So what would I do about the silverware issue?:
not silver, maybe chop sticks. That seems logical right? Since a huge population of people can get away with using wood as their utensils, why is this question even asked? What if it wasn't randomn to me but quite familiar? Maybe I use chop-sticks because I happen to have that kind of debonair. Well, I would hate shoveling with a piece of wire. Maybe I wouldn't be able to satisfy my voracious appetite with two little sticks, and what about the environment? What about all the trees? I guess I'll go with plastic.
On second thought, this question really opens you up to a lot of possibilities since it's really asking what kind of silverware would you use if you could use anything in the world? How exciting would it be to use your hands for once and just pick that mean slice of pizza right up off of that box?
I was once in Quebec just trying to blend in and the fine matron of the house had cooked pizza from the very source of her heart. There were pepperonis and mushrooms. There were even spices beyond measure. It looked delicious. It was steaming even. (And it wasn't that kind of fake steam you would see on commercials in the eighties that any person with a hint of depth perception could tell was BEHIND the fries). I got ready to dig in, and at that young, naive age I didn't have on my guard. In the accustomed way I was used to, I so rudely picked up a slice with my naked hand. Immediately came a rift in the vibe of the table. There were furtive eyes, and a subtle outrage that could not be repressed for long. Soon enough, I was asked very politely: was I not capable of using a knife and fork? Oh the embarassment! Oh the eternal debt my sense of moral uprightness took! I was cut to the quick! I never wanted to look at a pizza again. (Ok anybody who's anybody knows that's an exaggeration). I suppose it was a test from God. Providence had brought me to this new challenge. Instead of rolling my pizza slice up and giving it over to the hungry lion inside of me I had to practice discipline, -and manual dexterity. The rest of the meal was quiet. There was only the odd scraping or screeching of forks and knives on the plates. I think the crickets outside even felt lonely. I wanted to learn more french but I felt that even opening my mouth to offer anything other than an opportunity for pizza to get in would be pushing it.
That night, I slept intensely. The next day, everything changed. I was no longer the person I was before. For once, I'd eaten something in a different way than I had ever done before. Sure I've stabbed broccoli with a knife before. I've poked perogies, but never had I handled pizzas with anything other than my raw digits. I guess there's something for us all to learn. Maybe this question IS really important to ask yourself. I mean what kind of people are we that we're depended on a specific configuration of metal, and silver to be specific? Are we that habit-based? Well, humans are that way.
The one thing I just pictured in my head though about silverware is that imagine if you had like a waterfall but of food that was dropping onto the propeller of a helicopter? The centrifugal forces would fire it out into your mouth if you were in the right place. That would be awesome! If my tongue was a magnet then I wouldn't have to worry about attracting robots. (assuming they were made out of metal). If my tongue were a magnet I'd probably show off to everyone considering that's the kind of egotistical jerk I am. Hey wait a second, this wasn't supposed to be about me. Lets just stick to the forks and spoons. *****these are metal burrs, stuck to my magnet.