misAdventures of Workmonkey 3.0

I just received an extremely odd email regarding baby Robert. There is some sort of controversy within the family that has made some people very upset. The mystery only deepens. I'm in the thick of a family battle. Due to the email's sensitive nature, I will not post it here, but if interested, I'll send it on to you.

I see the makings of a novel.

I've become obsessed with the Presidential race. It's the very reason you haven't seen a blog for about a month, and why it will be about two months before you see another one. Starting from the time I get to work, until the middle of the night, I scour online political blogs, newspapers, portals, and forums making comment upon comment upon comment, constantly challenging the other comments, engaging in democratic discourse, as our Founding Fathers intended. Politico.com, RealClearPolitics.com, HuffingtonPost.com, WSJ.com, NYTimes.com, DailyKos.com, Wonkette.Com, ABCNews.com, CNN.com, NationalRepublic.com, Time.com, Newsweek.com .... I'm consumed with the never-ending stream of political content. I can't think or write about anything else. It has gotten to the point where everyone on all of these sites recognize my name and ideology. We talk directly to one another. After posting a comment, I refresh my browser twenty times a minute until I get a response, the same way you would when waiting for an email telling you if you got a job, or if a girl you liked wrote back to you yet (in my case, she didn't).

I'll come right out and admit: I have an intense, overwhelming, irrational, knee-hurting, soul-scratching hatred for Hillary Clinton. How do I know it's irrational? Because I have the same intense, overwhelming, irrational, knee-hurting, soul-scratching hatred for many things: The New England Patriots, American Airlines, salmon, I-880, The Hills, all the characters on The Hills, any DVR that isn't TiVo, Jarlsberg cheese.... This is why so many of you have personally witnessed me throw a remote control or kick a trashcan at some point: Certain things cause me to get unmanageably angry. And when I see or read anything involving Hillary Clinton, a surge of disgust wells up in my chest, scurries to my brain, and then exits my mouth in the form of a scream. I am unable to contain the hatred, and must physically eject it from my body, lest it disease me. The way she randomly points at people she doesn't know in the crowd, her fake laugh, her utter inability to tell the truth or be respectable in any way, her self-absorbtion: It is simply too much for Mark Anderson to handle.

Why such strong and passionate emotions for something so seemingly outside of myself? Let me offer a thesis Carl Jung would be proud of:

In my lifelong attempt to find meaning in a morally confusing world (and to prevent my unrecoverable descent into cynicism), I assign significant value to meaningless symbols. Then, I take a fully-vested emotional interest in the battle between these symbols. The value I assign to these symbols reflects my earliest notions of the world; the battle between good and evil, God and Satan, the Ying and the Yang (Charlie Yang, that fat guy in my 6th grade P.E. class).The results of these daily battles either confirm or reject the notion that good does in fact triumph over evil.

To point: This past September, I decided that Bill Belichick and the New England Patriots were evil. I believed this with every cell of my body. I felt they represented all that is ruinous in our daily world: arrogance, smugness, a total lack of ethics, the ugly pink ties Robert Kraft wears. Satan might as well have been their defensive back, Adolf Eichmann their tight end, John Ashcroft their offensive coordinator. The San Diego Chargers, on the other hand, represented all that was good in the world: hard work, humility, fairness. Blessed by God himself (or herself, for the ladiez). This couldn't have been more clear to me. So when I watched these two opposing forces play each other in October, it was more than a game. It was a universal battle between good and evil. You can imagine my ... disappointment ... when it was proven that chilly night in October that evil is, in fact, stronger than good. (About 21 points stronger, to be exact.) It wasn't the Chargers who had lost, or the Patriots who had won. It was evil kicking the shit out of good. Hence, a remote control needed to be thrown to express my disappointment with that outcome.

Usually, these projections only last for a single game, or flight, or drive home. The problem is, this Presidential election has continued unbroken for almost three months, and will continue until November. So I am faced with this image of hate on an hourly basis. Also, the stakes are higher: The Chargers play football. The battle between Obama and Hillary is for the future of our country. Will good rule our country for 8 years? Or evil? Which will it be? Come on, America? WHICH WILL IT BE! GOOD OR EVIL! GOD OR SATAN! MAKE YOUR CHOICE!

This is how I feel.

Suffice to say, if America makes the wrong choice, I will retreat into my cage of cynicism for at least another eight years, maybe longer. Keeping true to an sfninja pledge, I will keep the specifics about my political ideology out of my blogs. If you care to know why I feel as I feel, I can assure you I have well-researched and thoughtful responses for you. Responses I share on the nation's comment boards to ensure the American public is educated on the truth. If you'd like to know more, you can reference my Obama page . As far as I can tell, my comments have not yet converted any demons to the light. However, I will not rest. I got over the Patriots winning. But Hillary? That will ruin me. And the country.

So, in the coming months, forgive my lack of blogs. It is simply America's ass I am busy saving.

On this week's episode of Top Chef, the contestant chefs were asked to make an "upscale" taco, with the winner gaining immunity. The guest judge was Rick Bayless, celebrity chef of an "upscale" Mexican restaurant in Chicago called Topolobampo, which besides being the worst name for a restaurant in modern times, is apparently the name of a small seaport city in Mexico.

Because Jill told me to stop yelling at the TV, I had to write this blog. Several of the contestants (especially the two from San Francisco) had the same response to the challenge as i did: Upscale taco?? What the fuck is that? Where I come from, an upscale taco is one that doesn't give you Hepatitis B. Tacos are a soulful expression of Mexican culture, to be made with corn tortillas pounded out in old cast iron skillets on the streets of Tijuana, dirt and feces and donkeys painted like zebras surrounding you. In revolt, some of the chefs refused to deviate from the soul of a taco, using proper carnitas and fresh lime. This arrogant, gay judge Rick Bayless chided these chefs, telling them it was fine as a "street" taco, but was not "upscale". Ultimately, the winning taco had duck and aged cheese from somewhere in Europe and some other vegetable shit I stopped listening to. Duck in a fucking taco? Since when is that even remotely acceptable? I've had duck in a taco before. It is called Peking duck, and it is Chinese food, not Mexican food.

It reminds me of the first time I went to Dos Caminos, the "upscale" (yes, i will use quotes anytime I say the word "upscale" to remind you of how much I hate that word) Mexican restaurant in NYC: I set eyes on the 15 dollar enchiladas and immediately put down the menu. There was no need to continue. "Upscale" and Mexican just cannot be merged at any point in time. Upscale ruins everything Mexican food remotely stands for: the tastes and impressions of the hard-working culture of the Mexico countryside. It isn't meant to cost 15 dollars. And it isn't meant to have duck in it, either. Blood? Yes. Duck? No.

Going online to find the menu of Topolobampo reveals the following dishes:

Crema De Ajo Verde Y Zanahoria: creamy green garlic and organic carrot soup studded with applewood-smoked heritage turkey, güero chiles and cilantro

Tamales De Garbanzo: Enrique's garbanzo tamales (steamed in banana leaves) with wild mushroom mole and sunflower shoot salad

Pollito a Las Brasas: border-style, organic Gunthorp rock hen, half-boned, marinated in red chile, garlic and sweet spices, and grilled. Frijoles charros, charcoaled green onions, young greens

So, this is where we are. Mexican food where garbanzo replaces shredded pork, rock hen replaces chorizo, and organic carrot soup replaces tamales. 10% of the taste for 500% of the price.

Should this be the point where I reveal that Rick Bayless is an old white guy born in the Midwest? That no Mexican in his right mind would ever even attempt to destroy his cuisine with such arrogant culinary shit? That the only reason his restaurant is known as the top "upscale" Mexican food restaurant in the nation is because white Chicagoans get seriously impressed when they see the word queso, and just think it is so cute when they eat "ethnic" food?

I won't go on now about how, later in the episode, the chefs were chided for cooking sliders and corn dogs at a local Chicago block party, instead of Paella and ceviche (as if that is what you crave at a block party). Suffice to say, the elitists in the culinary world are partially responsible for ruining cuisine itself. I eat at so-called "top restaurants" in NYC at least once a month. Sometimes, all I get is a heavy bill and an arrogant plate. Some chefs need to know when to leave well enough alone: A taco should always be a taco. The minute you make it out of anything other than a tortilla and carnitas, it is no longer a taco. If you want to make it upscale, use pork from a pig that didn't feed off of Jaurez street garbage for a few years, don't use fucking duck. All you'll get is food for white rich people who want to eat what they always do anyway, but pretend they are somehow cultural because duck is now called pato. F Rick Bayless, F his restaurant Topelogoelgoeloe, F culinary elitists, and F ducks.