i've never cooked crocodile flesh before... but i've seen what happens when you buy raw herrings... you're not going to cook the herrings... after all: herrings are the Baltic sushi... but you can't just eat them raw... you need to curate them to some brine... i.e. soaking them in salty water... phenomenal... a fish swims all this time in salty waters... as a whole... but when you turn it into a schematic of edibility... you have to... ha ha... pluck all that's liver all that heart... intestines... to get to the flesh: edible flesh... proper... you have to throw it back into salty water: it's obvious that the flesh of the fish never experienced... what could make it edible... apparently crocodile meat is the same: it's lean... although... herring flesh is also high in fat... to brine something involves the thing sitting in its own juices: for the "other" thing: the protein about to be eaten is left curated: salt... in terms of what's edible and what's not... weighs as much as gold... if not more... but you can bypass this whole chemical experiment with mushrooms! you don't need fish: which have to be brined... or with meats which have to be cured... with mushrooms it's much more simple... you start off frying a batch in some unsalted butter... they fry... and fry... getting all golden... you start choking them with a lid above the frying pan... that sort of helps... but... doesn't... it's only until you sprinkle some salt... and: but especially in terms of fungus... salt: the great drawer of water... you put the lid back on... or whatever... to get the mushroom: you need to cook it with some salt... it's like... the most organic magnet... salt is a magnet... for water... salt is what allowed such great bodies of water as the Atlantic and the Pacific to stay intact... even when the rivers and the lakes dry up... the seas will never dry up: salt is a magnet... for water... water, water everywhere: but not a drop to drink... that line stands eternal: from the rime of the ancient mariner... esp. with fungus... you sprinkle from salt on them while frying them off in butter... and hey presto! you tempt the water encompassed in the mushrooms come flooding out... you end up cooking them in their own juices... the texture of the mushroom is arrived at... but there's also the essences of the taste of mushroom... salt: magnet... sieve! - but that's not brining... unless it's... brining done... exponentially quick... which it is... meat takes time... fungus is neither meat nor... salad... but salt! salt is light! how it draw out the remaining water from a thing... and allows the thing to be cooked in its own storage of water... which it wasn't expecting to be cooked in... you might add some more water: depending how much you're cooking... some excess of fat also helps... but i've never cooked crocodile meat... watched how someone failed to cook it on Australian MasterChef... if crocodile behaves like a herring... even though one is a lizard get-go... while the other is... fritz... i expect a crocodile tartar steak of sort could have aided the contestant... because i can't actually imagine eating a cooked herring... later soaked in some spirit vinegar with onions... a lay leaf... all-spice... mustard seeds crescent moons of garlic... onions... and oil... but cooking a herring seems as much a bad idea as cooking a salmon: rather than not smoking it... still: quickened brining process... no water involved... since we're dealing with mushrooms... fungus... you start cooking they're browning beautifully like it's some post-racial but still nationalistic Brazilian utopia (since they have a ******* football team that tells others... you're not us... blah blah) but it's only when you add the salt that the mushrooms give in... to the "torture" of being: less the telepathic busy-bodies attached to the moon-key-brain they latched themselves onto... i wish they were hallucinogenic prone types... sometimes: but then... all these supposed colours and no clarity in writing in b & w... i couldn't stomach it... with herrings about to be turned into pickled flesh i expected the slow-brining process is expected: fish is not fungus... all that excess water storage in the flesh is what gives man a brain... i hope... then again: i hope not... that's why i drink: to be borderline dehydrated... quickened brining: frying off some mushrooms in butter then sprinkling some salt on the frying process... immediately a mushroom stock arrives "out of nowhere" on the canvas on the frying pan... the mushroom is to be then: essentially eaten... the flesh of the mushroom: isn't mush... it resembles something from the annals of seafood... but the juice is... earthy... beguiling the humanoid to harvest these forest pleasures... salt is ought to be: ought have to been more treasured than gold... there should have been salt coins... how there should be painting of one army riding horses... another... riding bulls... salmon ought first to be smoked then... decided upon: cooking salmon ought to be considered: haram: forbidden... i don't want to see that orange flesh of the waters turned into an anaemic pink... dried out: not once... not ever! it's one "thing" to butcher an animal once... it's another "THing" to butcher the animal twice upon the altar of cooking it poorly!
i'll pretend hunchback posing as a crow: the crow will disagree: i'm standing up-right! you're the one who's hunched! hitchhiker: boring son of a dozen: that's came from elsewhere... elsewhere... "elsewhere": even in the now apparently arrived at now: i see no familiar face... i see... too many rivers... of people... that hardly make up a sea to froth... to boil up...
people are dying in their minds... this rot is yet to be made popularly promiscuously: tempting... enticing... but i fear it already is that... people are dying in their minds while their bodies... if agitated... if alive... are spewing nothing but fictions! pick-me-ups!
i'm hopeful... this period will pass... there will be a time of fathoming a relief from this intermission... how all empires crumble... but how "things" have changed... we're all pretty much educated to recognise phonetic encoding "biases"... even if some of us scribble on walls in giraffe graffiti... so be it... TAGS... let people have what's immediately available to their imagination's content... don't let them suffer the constraints of some ruling... ha! who's ruling in 100 years from now?! who's most envy prone to dictate the peacocking workaround for social: hierarchical-stratification? all will pass: in a blink of an eye! even if no eye is looking: or to be looked at...
i've become accustomed to cherish this onslaught of pulverising subjectivity: i seem to not have had a welcome escape... pickling brain: Brian syndrome does that to one... the sensation of being subjected to so much... yet objecting to so little... oh but i'm objecting to as much as i'm being subjected to...
i am subjected to gravity: but i object to it... as a falling "thing" from the top of a building... how's that?
i need language to somehow comes across a... "2 + 2 = 4"... no?i need a sensation of: arable: with a trill of the R: that's so... desperately missing in the -ing-leash zunge... i'm about to call Kaiser Wilhelm and implore him: more zeppelins! more zeppelins!
tread past the thought that was originally cast: lay the thread bare... come as you were... come: less arrived at... all this will sooner or later be: gobbled up by the certainty of time... which competes over space... minding our progress... if time is the tongue... then space is mouth what yawns at as: welcoming... eager for more sacrifices at the altar...
curry is great! at a meal... as a meal one has for... supposing it's 5pm in Lahore... but at 9am in France... where there are no eggs... poached? scrambled? fried? what's on offer?! *******... CARRY... CURRY... CRY-WE.. i can't make my stomach churn out appreciation for a ******* broth in the morning...
it's scented ****-***: overt-**** *** insatiability in the morning requiring English pubescent northern girls: sorry... they "are"... "my"... girls?! i speak the language... last time i heard... there was a lacking in brick-work... the people most associated with keeping food production in line... the truckers... all gone... well.. if the Englishman want's an Empire implosion... save all the Pakis... he'll get all the ******* Uber he desires... "my" people will just leave... for whatever the brain-drain that arrived... that will stay... but the rest of it...
who needs England... when England is all the more better off for X-factor: people need to be entertained! no?! by even the more ******* sort of... entertainment! i'm entertained by the moon... by a brick wall... "my" people... came to these shores... and were quickly told to... *******... thank you! let all the Pakis take over! *******... Ing-Leash... brats!
i have an inherent animosity with these people that has not schematic to a past so formidable as to have a past worth questioning: here lies... the atomised man...
- but while speaking this... zunge... i reach out to an elder... i am seeking compensation: for the tiredness i'm forever to experience... in English i have no... certainty: i have only an objectification of history: not being subjected to it... i live in a country with a past: but not history... anaemic hybrid... i'm the barbarian knocking on the door... with a message: let me out! let me out!
whoever read too much of "journalism" but not enough of Horace...
the sanctity of salt: sal de sanctitas.... backwards to forwards... how time disembowels grammar.