For the last two days, Ingrid at “Pussy Has Furballs” and I have gone back and forth. It all started when I stated so very eloquently that the food commonly known as “pickles” should be called “pickled cucumbers” due to the confusion it causes people. See, there are many foods that are pickled, so obviously calling one of them “pickles” makes no sense.
Ingrid countered by essentially saying I am the dumbest human being on the face of the planet. It was very rude and abrasive. I think anyone who read what she wrote would agree that she was incredibly rude to me. (Editor’s note: No she wasn’t.) Being the genius that I am, I countered every point that Ingrid made with a much better and more thoroughly thought out point. I would say that it was likely the finest point making the world has ever seen.
Ingrid countered again today with some very questionable photographic evidence showing that I am wrong. I would like to state again, it was very questionable. Despite all of that, I will give up the fight. It seems people will always call them “pickles” whether it is proper or not.
Just know, though, that every time you do this, you are doing exactly what The Man wants you to do. The Man is sticking that food in a box, or more appropriately a jar, and saying, “Call these pickles! Don’t ask why. I told you to.” Maybe I am just a rebellious sort, but I do not like anyone telling me what I can and cannot do. I want to be a free thinker, so if I want to call them “Pickled Cucumbers,” no one is going to tell me I am wrong.
As Voltaire once said, “It is dangerous to be right in matters on which the established authorities are wrong.” Well, my pal Voltaire was correct. I have tasted this danger by spitting in the face of the cucumber preserving community. If there is any certainty in this world, though, I know this: someone has to speak the truth or else we are all destined to live in a truthless society.
That is a fantastic quote I just wrote. I wonder how much it would cost to make bumper stickers…