Never Question My Methods

Just have fun. Worry about the golden gizmo award later.

“On a personal note, I must again express to Conan my gratitude for, once upon a time, letting an ancient old goat – - – that would be me – - – invade his inner circle, albeit for a little while. Again, we, your loyal fans, will support and respect whatever decisions you make between now and a week from hence. As for the executives at NBC who let this nonsense happen – - – and you will note that I use the word “let” with utter disdain – - – I hope you’re all proud of yourselves. Be aware, though, that one day, you too might be forced into making an immediate decision that might shape the future of your network. If that future does not bode well, the insiders will doubtless blame you first.”

Please, Jimmy Wales and the Wikipedia community: never change this entry.

A muffin is a type of bread that is baked in small portions. Many forms are somewhat like small cakes or cupcakes in shape, although they usually are not as sweet as cupcakes and generally lack frosting. Savory varieties, such as cornbread muffins, also exist. They generally fit in the palm of an adult hand, and are intended to be consumed by an individual in a single sitting.

Is there frosting on your muffin? Because that is generally not muffin. Are you paying enough attention to the savory cornbread muffin? Good. It plays a larger role later on.

In Commonwealth countries muffin can also refer to a disk-shaped English muffin. As American-style muffins are also sold in Commonwealth countries, the term muffin can refer to either product, with the context usually making clear which is meant.

And if they aren’t, I shall write Queen Elizabeth II by the Grace of God.

There are many varieties and flavors of muffins made with a specific ingredient such as blueberries, chocolate chips, cucumbers, raspberry, cinnamon, pumpkin, date, nut, lemon, banana, orange, peach, strawberry, boysenberry, almond, and carrot, baked into the muffin. Muffins are often eaten for breakfast; alternatively, they may be served for tea or at other meals.

Occasionally, they are shoved into the mouth while moving at great speed through the Javits Center and other trade show venues, for energy replenishment. This is because they are the only food available and the Javits Center actually feeds off of psychic energy.

In Washington D.C., they are often used as air purifiers (to avoid smelling the dreaded Ginko trees), and as cigarettes.

A somewhat odd combination of circumstances in the 1970s and 1980s led to significant changes in what had been a rather simple, if not prosaic, food. The decline in home-baking, the health food movement, the rise of the specialty food shop, and the gourmet coffee trend all contributed to the creation of a new standard of muffin.^{[citation needed]}

Let us focus on the following phrases:

• “Prosaic” used to describe food. Specifically, a muffin. A prosaic muffin.

• The ominous wording “new standard of muffin” which practically echoes “new muffin order.”

Preservatives in muffin mixes led to the expectation that muffins did not have to go stale within hours of baking, but the resulting muffins were not a taste improvement over homemade^{[citation needed]}. On the other hand, the baked muffin, even if from a mix, seemed almost healthy compared to the fat-laden alternatives of doughnuts and Danish pastry. “Healthy” muffin recipes using whole grains and such “natural” things as yogurt and various vegetables evolved rapidly. But for “healthy” muffins to have any shelf-life without artificial preservatives, the sugar and fat content needed to be increased, to the point where the “muffins” are almost indistinguishable from cupcakes.

Almost indistinguishable from cupcakes. How can you doubt this statement?

Think about it: why do so many Americans serve muffins at birthdays? Why is it that a cupcake can walk into any US post office and request to be listed as a muffin on their passport? Why is that the world’s oldest living muffin, Apple Walnut, just recently held a press conference announcing that he is, in fact, an unfrosted cupcake, and his entire family, colleagues, and neighbors had no clue?

The rising market for gourmet snacks to accompany gourmet coffees resulted in fancier concoctions in greater bulk than the original, modestly sized corn muffin.

Look to the original corn muffin. Look to it and see what we’ve lost. We can never go back to that. I want to tell you that we can, but I don’t want to lie to you. The last corn muffin I ate tasted like my own tears.

The marketing trend toward larger portion sizes also resulted in new muffin pan types for home-baking, not only for increased size. Since the area ratio of muffin top to muffin bottom changed considerably when the traditional small round exploded into a giant mushroom, consumers became more aware of the difference between the soft texture of tops, allowed to rise unfettered, and rougher, tougher bottoms restricted by the pans.

Unfettered! Free! FREE!

Along with the increasing size of muffins is a contrary trend of extremely small muffins. It is now very common to see muffin pans or premade muffins that are only one or two inches in diameter.

Ahah! So, the tables have turned! Turnabout is fair play!

Wait, what is a premade muffin? Is that the same as an unmade muffin?

Citation needed.

Hey. So maybe it’s just that I can’t suckle children – - or not, like, children, but you know a baby or whatever — but anyway, I’ve been thinking since I can’t do that . . if I could at least stuff a bunch of crap around my chest or pectoral area – - stuff that I could use to kill fish, I think I would be more at peace with myself at the world.

I know it means looking like a high-tech muffin, but I’m OK with that.

What do you have for me?

- -

- -

OK. But maybe that’s just too Home Depot’s Trip to Cybertron. Maybe I’m looking for more of a British Isles London Fog kind of look, because honestly, I’m going to wear at least one of my fedoras with this.

- -

- -

OK, well . . . I know that this is kind of a jerky thing to do, but let’s take another look at one of those American fishing vests. I like to buy American when I can.

- -

- -

OK, so that’ll be good to put my tippet spools in, and there’s a D-ring in the back . . . you know, I’m not really using tippet spools now that I have the blog.

In fact, I’m not really fishing either. I mean, I want to fish, don’t get me wrong, I just don’t.

What I want this vest for is just to stroll around and blare my favorite tunes, maybe a few podcasts. Can you help me with that?

- -

- -

Awesome. Thanks.

Or, Let Me Tell You About My Zine

In junior year in High School (1994) I started a zine which I continued for about two years, which interviewed local (from Virginia or D.C.) bands, had weird little rants, and reviewed zines, books, music, and B-movies.

And it was pretty much one of the best things I ever decided to do. I started writing more frequently, I met a lot of great people I wouldn’t have otherwise, bands and record labels sent me music, and it also got me thinking about responsibility towards an audience, and all of this stuff.

Also: it forced me to use a computer, which I was initially resistant to. Because why would you need a computer if all you wanted to do was write, and there were these machines called “Word Processors”?

Even though I generally ended up cutting and pasting everything so that it would look the way I wanted it to – - which was a very 90s aesthetic called “kind of crazy” – - I formatted stuff on the computer, attempted to make sense of how to put it into signatures, so that I would print it correctly . . . and then I would just break out the glue stick and start putting things in order because it was so much easier.

Interestingly enough, just four years later, I would find a job in publishing, working as a book designer.

(I no longer use a glue stick)

But this being a truthful anecdote, not everything about this zine was positive or useful:

1) The name was incredibly dorky: Xanadu. I seriously had no idea that Olivia Newton John and her little roller-film existed. I had briefly been obsessed with Citizen Kane and just thought that the word was neat.

2) My attention span was at least as bad as it was now, and just as the case is with this blog, I could not focus on anything for longer than a page. Everything was a brief sprint through whatever I wanted to gab about, followed by no editing, and then a bunch of copies were made. Print!

3) Around the second issue embarrassed by the title of the zine, I just started making stuff up (see item #2). Inspired by the X-Files and wanting to add a little fiction to the zine, I claimed that the zine wasn’t really about the local rock scene at all. That was just a front for the information about the alien invasion that was at hand. The xanadanian alien invasion.

At many times in the zine, I claimed to be a robot. Or cyborg, whatever, it was my brain. And I think at this point in my life, if I could have just plunked my brain into a robot, I would have.

But there was one last thing about the zine that was both kind of dorky and kind of neat. There was a fake band. A band that I made real bands talk about. A band called Kang.

Kang was lead by Ronnie T. Kang, a character who had impressed himself upon the Arlington band scene as a luminary of indie rock innovation and  self-reliance. He also ran the band’s label, Mattress Launch Records. But beyond these two guiding principals, I encouraged the people I interviewed for the zine to just make stuff up.

Some of my favorite quotes I can’t actually find (Dead as Dillinger claimed that they played a whole album of sea shanties with zithers). But here are some good ones:

JARHEAD

(Arlington, VA Drunkpunk band)

Q: What happened that time when you guys played with Kang at the black cat?

A: Oh, it was crazy. They are the punkest, most straight-edge, most vegan band in the entire world! That guy, Ronnie Kang, knocked a bag of Dorritos out of my hand because he said there was some cow seed oil in it. You know, I really like their music a lot, but the singer – - I had to break the bottle over his head. He had it coming.

I-FARM

(Syracuse Punk band, for whom I still see the occasional t-shirt)

“Kang has changed, it used to be about the music – - and what’s with that Danish guy?”

PAT WEST

(Pat West wrote Change Zine, which was one of the thickest music zines you could buy,  xeroxed by hand, for two dollars. It would take months to listen to everything he reviewed in just one issue. And your ears would ring afterwards).

“I just can’t deal with that anti-semitic stuff.”

JAWBOX

(One of my favorite bands – - I had to interview them by mail because I did not know how to use email at the time)

I should kill you for even mentioning their name after what they did to my sister. A band? More like a death cult.

For the fifth and last issue, I wanted to do something big – - to have an all-Kang issue or something like that. But by this point, I had read a couple of reviews in other zines, and I sympathized with their ambivalence towards Xanadu’s uneven tone. But for something that had been total improvisation from layout to mission statement, I think it had a good run.

I am sure you’ll thank me for this.

Or maybe you won’t.

I just wish I could explain why the completely dazed frog is moving his hands over an upturned speaker in a circular fashion.