Spinach: Painfully inspirational.

I had a different post ready for today, but then it was brought to my attention that a new record has been broken - namely, that a marathon (which is 26.2 miles for those of you who haven’t seen the window decals) has been run in under two hours for the first time in recorded history.

Congratulations, Mr. Kipchoge.

This has been touted as inspiring, as in, “Look! We humans! See what we do! What we accomplish next? There no limits! Ooga ooga!” But you know what else was supposed to inspire us? The moon landing! And look how that turned out - now there is astronaut poop on the moon and people STILL believe it was a hoax.

No, what is inspiring is this: An 88 year old lady running the 50 meter dash in under 10 minutes. That’s beautiful! That makes you want to go out and run the 50 meter dash way, way, way faster just to prove you’re better at something than somebody. That makes you want to accomplish, accomplish, accomplish, all while thinking in adorable terms of the 88 year old gramma.

On the other hand, hearing that someone has run a sub two hour marathon makes you want to slump into a vacuous heap of jello that doesn’t even bother wiping its nose, because there are probably people who can wipe their noses in under two hours, too, and why even bother anymore.

So forget about world records and super hero, super human accomplishments: There never really has been an inspiring world record or an inspiring super hero.

Just remember Agatha, tottering along in her little shorts from the 60s and her striped socks and a headband round her perm, and discover the will to live.

And excuse me while I glory in being a subpar human and dig up some inspiration of my own.

Comments

Welcome to Weirdness!

Hi, world, and welcome to “The Password’s Lasagna”! One day I’ll share where that name came from - for now, just revel in the wonderful idioticity of the word “Lasagna”. Say it over and over again. Let it flip off your tongue in all its gleeful lasagnaness. Say it until it means nothing, say it ‘til it means everything. Lasagna. It’s a word with many layers. Moving on quickly now... I have to wonder if, in a year, I will regret this first post. I’ll think “what kind of imbecilic idiot was I, to think starting a blog would be a good idea?” As if there aren’t more constructive things to do. Like...fishing. Or hunter-gathering (which is the sport of gathering as many hunters as possible in one weekend and stuffing them all in the back of a closed pickup, preferably with a limb or so hanging out and dripping blood). Or making clay...things. Useful things. Mugs and the like. Or I could be chillin...

Noodles: It’s autumn, all of you.

Hi world. It’s me, your favorite super sheltered, extremely Scandinavian, strangely endearing pile of soggy, tomato-drenched crinkly noodles! Otherwise known as Baby Swedish Lasagna under an Inadequate Tent. The reason I bring up my origins is this: I grew up without hearing anyone say “y’all”. I believe the contraction never crossed my path outside of a book until middle school, when it became trendy among my equally sheltered, pale-skinned friends. I started saying it often, with little understanding of its pronunciation, spelling, or proper usage. At some point, perhaps in a fit of cultural sensitivity, maybe after the madness of middle school had seeped out of my neurons, I stopped using it. Except in emails. Yes, my friends, I am an email y’aller. It just works for the already-awkward group conversations. There’s honestly no equivalent in northern dialect. Check it out. “You guys.” Offensive to feminists. “You girls.” Offensive...

Cheese: I think I know what “disconcerting” truly is now.

It’s hearing someone whisper the words “hot and spicy pizza” out of context while your back is turned to them and what they’re saying is literally none of your business and three inch long unidentified bugs are landing in your hair. But that’s beside the point. Today is all about the cartoons, after all. Unfortunately, I don’t have any prepared except one which might possibly be the most subversive cartoon I’ve done to date. Again, most unfortunately, I’m not in the mood to shock and offend at this exact moment, so I’m going to take the easy road and publish this completely unnoffensive little sketch of a cute mushroom-hatted person. (Psst, it’s not funny, it’s just cute and I don’t know why I expect you to want to look at it, but just humor me.)

The Password’s Lasagna.

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