Ick Rants

First of all, bear with me. Today's post is not about writing, and it's also just a ranty personal opinion. You have been warned.

I am not only a worrier, I'm also a ranter. I'm sure these traits are common to EVERYONE IN THE WORLD, so I try to refrain from painting a picture of myself that suggests that I am on some different level of worrying, annoyance or existence in general. The truth is, while we may feel like islands a lot of the time, we really aren't. Loads of people are like you and go through the same things. Sometimes it's a comfort, sometimes it isn't. This may seem like an aside, but it's actually relevant to this day's rant.

"Foodie." 

What picture and impression of someone does this evoke in your mind? I've looked the word up in an online dictionary, and here's the definition:

"a person keenly interested in food, especially in eating or cooking."

Or:

"a person having an enthusiastic interest in the preparation and consumption of good food"

So, a foodie is someone who is very interested in eating and cooking food. We'll leave out the other uses of food in spite of the open formulation that dictionary.com provides. This makes me a foodie, because I'm quite interested in my food. It's what keeps me alive, after all. I quite enjoy baking a great cake and having friends or family express their appreciation. Maybe they didn't think I was capable of making those really delicious lemon bars. But guess what, mom, I can cook! You didn't waste those years of forcing me to cook one night a week!

Of course, some days, I make pasta, slather it with ketchup, and eat that. On those days, I'm still a foodie, because I still care about what I eat, and think about the coming month where I might be able to afford something nicer. There are people who live off nothing but fast food or uninspired but nonetheless decently tasty meals. These people are also foodies, as far as I'm concerned, because I have yet to meet anyone in my 26 year long life who did not care about what they were eating.

But that's not enough for people. When you can't be special by doing special things, you must do everything you can to be special in the ordinary things you do, and if you can make it seem as if everyone else is somehow part of the food proletariat, all the better.

And this is where we get to it. Douchebags and -bagettes with cameras and most likely an instagram/twitter/facebook account, intent on convincing the world that their meals are -so- special and -so- cool that they just have to tell the world that they are a foodie. Look the fuck at me, New York. I CARE about what I stuff in my face! I'm a hedonist, I'm a foodie, I'm this and that and this other thing, too.

You know who else is all of those things, too? Fucking everyone. You are not special because you like food, or sex, or that feeling you get shortly after a really good workout. You -could- be special for the person you are beneath all this shallow, materialistic posturing, but you've invested so much of yourself into your public persona that there really is no persona left beneath it all, is there? You're chasing your next super-special meal, with octopus-semen, and horseradish, and blackjack, and hookers.

I'm not trying to say that everyone should be the same, at all, but there are some things for which you are special and will be remembered for, and there are many, many things for which you are not special and will not be remembered for. By and large, you are remembered for your ideas, and what you do with them. The idea that you like food more than other people is terrible and self-centered, and if all you do with it is try and show off, you've stumbled before the first hurdle.

The idea that you want to be the best fireman/woman in the district is great, because you are doing something for others. Even if you want recognition for what you do, that's cool. Because you're doing great work. Eating some fucking salmon isn't "great work." I know how to use a knife and fork too.

See you next rant, at some indefinable point in the future.