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HOT MONKEYS, WORD SOUP AND BAD RICE

…not always a good thing in any order, but…today there is news of a new blog by political-opinion-pushers who are said to be whipping forward toward their new, heady brew, a delicate stew of literary delectibles, their ‘nother, new blog — by poliical-opinion-pushers! — repetition intended, as if ladelling liquid — it’s HOTSOUP.

I would have preferred someone devote more time and care to the site name, however, because what came to my mind when I first read the site name (HOTSOUP) and perused their tenuous, temporary site graphics, was: “that spoon, spoon, that spoooonfullll…” Which are lyrics from a notorious blues song by Willie Dixon about heroin use and addiction called, SPOONFUL (from Dixon’s album, “I AM THE BLUES“). And yet there they are, these political-opinionators-intending-to-cook-opinion, their new, “hot” plans amidst a giant orange spoon shape and a logo you’d never eat nor drink, even if you could. The blues came to mind.

So, just saying, I think a fresher site name would have helped improve the first impressions. But, despite the cookery of the terms involved, I wish for the talent brewing with this new site happiness in their brothy, future recipes. And freedom from the addiction of the internet, which is obsession with being newsy, spoon by typographical spoonful.

Because the second thing that came to mind when I first read about this new site was “NO SOUP FOR YOU!” by the Soup Nazi from SEINFELD. Followed by my eyes wandering over to gaze upon a copy of the one-sheet (rerelease) for the film, DUCK SOUP by the Marx Brothers.

Hot, cold, soup, no soup, horse feathers on air…but, as if I’d changed a soup-drip spotted shirt for a wafting white linen about my shoulders, my thoughts then wandered reverently to dialogue from LOVE IS A MANY SPLENDORED THING, wherein the infamous, marvelous and confounding William Holden reclines atop a grassy hill above a far more peaceful, egalitarian distantly past Hong Kong and exclaims to “the gods” (so they “would not be jealous” of him), “bad rice, bad rice!” Watching and listening again to William Holden is enough, this day, for me. And my cup, it now runneth over.

But, I do wish the internet were more like William Holden’s film performances and less like the hot and cold, sweet and sour of political-opinionators-pushing-opinions, pedestrians, all of us, trying to run with full cups o’ joe.

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We will now have tea and speak of absurdities.”
— more of that dialogue from LOVE IS A MANY SPLENDORED THING.

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