November 29, 2006 - Guyuan, China
Thanksgivings Elder Dragon
After two days of scrambling to put together a Thanksgiving to be remebered in Guyuan it was good to fall asleep Sunday night.
Things I would have done differantly.
Skipped the fried chicken. Toned down the amount of mashed potatoes. Eaten less.
It wouldn’t have seemed nearly as Thanksgiving-ish without birds, but there’s enough fried chicken in this town to go around. The chicken turned out fine. The skin wasn’t as crispy as I had hoped but they were juicy enough - but there was no real “wow” factor.
That and the horrors that are 9 kilos of boiling oil. The stove and propane setup was a breeze. As I poured the oil into the large stock pot I noticed that the oil wasn’t an amber color, rather more of a burnt sienna. I tasted a bit of it at the shop and it wasn’t rancid - just dark - and I chalked that up to poor filtering.
25 minutes later I heard the popping and clanking of the hot pot of oil.
Picking up one of the small chicken necks and with a slotted spoon I lowered away into the spitting oil. The satisfying bubbling of the oil engulfed the neck and it hopped off the spoon.
No problem - it will float back up when its cooked - and I looked back towards my slowly growing pile of peeled potatoes.
And then, there, in the corner.
A squat dragon - geysers of steam jetting, hissing violently - reared its head from the pot.
I vaguely heard a potato roll from the pile of peels and bounce onto the cold concrete floor.
My eyes scraped the room. A bowl.
Brilliant, glistening bubbles foamed over the rim and slid slowy. Menacingly. Towards the shreaking propane flame below.
My hand shot towards the small silver knob atop the propane tank. Twisting.
Imagining red peeling skin and raw bare bones I dipped the bowl once. Steam bit at my knuckles. Twice. Five times full.
The pot handles came into view and, grabbing a handful of towels, I slid the pot off and away.
I slowy stood and cursed the dirty oil. The bubbles had tangled and climbed their way 16 inches up, out and over.
With the excitement over, I concerned myself with the coleslaw, mashed potatoes and gravy.
Fortunately, the coleslaw, gravy and apple pie dumplings were a hit.
Fried Thanksgiving chickens. What a hoot! Sounds like a wonderful feast, though. Who could resist eating all that great stuff? Not I.
Yeah, American economy has been hovering over the toilet for some time now. Sad to say, I believe this was planned decades ago by calculating elite bankers to shift social energy (wealth) into their "intellectual and thus more deserving" hands. It's the silent war on America. And we the people have been turned into a culture of self-centered, over-trusting, materialistic, propaganda-brain-washed, ignorant weanies too retarded to realize that our necks are on the chopping block. (I'm glad you're not one of them!) But with our constition also going the tubes, is it any surprise? Freedom to Fascism. I wish America would wake up. The last "alpha nails" are being hammered into our collective coffin!
Thanks to the invention of computers, economics is all too manipulatable. I found the following excerpt rather interesting. This very economic and political power shift was declared a silent war on America back in 1954. Check it!
thats some pretty serious conspiracy theory going on there. are you sure they don't want $19.95 and a self addressed stamped envelope for that?
So when do we get the answers to the riddles?
Yeah, of course it's possible. I guess I'm the one who's always up for a conspiracy. Heh, sorry. I'll try to keep it to myself from now on. :o)
Shannon- I think I'm saving the answers til a slow news day...
Siobhan - I've got nothin' against a conspiracy theory. Just as long as I don't hear about it on late night TV.