bayouette:

I have a folder called Time is a Flat Circle in which I collect evidence of humanity. Here is most of them.

payasita:

vbartilucci:

gangst3rswife:

Finally watched the Addams Family Values recently! and honestly. my main takeaway is

Debbie slays. And Joan Cusack is a QUEEN

Joan Cusack has never appeared in a film that she did not steal.

And as for Debbie, I will always repost my stance on her end.

I’ve said it a million times – if Debbie had listened to what the Addamses were saying in response to her tales of woe, she’s have realized that they understood completely. She had found her people, and was too wrapped up in herself to realize it.

If they could have, they’d have burst from their bonds, hugged the stuffing out of her, bought her a Bentley (and a vintage Ballerina Barbie) and declare her an Addams.

She could spend the rest of her life trying to kill Fester, and he’d love her all the more every time she tried. And the rest would keep offering helpful suggestions. “No point in trying poison, Debbie my dear – he’s been putting strychnine on his cornflakes since was seven”.

they would have been such good friends

petermorwood:

weaselle:

only-tiktoks:

not a salt or a pepper, but a secret third thing

TL;DR – The third thing was Sugar. Not mustard, not paprika, not dried herbs, not something lost in the mists of time.

It was sugar, and there’s historical proof.

*****

ETA: I’d put about 70% of this post together before @dduane said “Have you seen this?”

This” was from @jesters-armed, in first with my notions about The Fifth Element Third Condiment, and even a mention that the posts were “…a bit long(ish)”.

Ahem.

Yes they were, with no change here. You have been warned. :->

Well, okay, there’s one change. The pix in this post are new and, combined with the illustrations in older posts, go even further towards confirming that what I once called a theory, I now regard as Fact.

*****

Here are a couple of 19th-century table caddies, proper name “cruet sets”. Take a look at the labels. They answer the “what was it?” question asked by that TikTok in a single word.

Sugar.

Not just in English, Spanish too.

Azucar.

Even without labels to tell them apart and even when the containers were of matched size and shape, sugar-casters always had larger holes than pepper-shakers.

Sometimes not much larger, as here…

…but usually, like those below and above, more than big enough to ensure no confusion between sugar and pepper.

A container of similar shape with no holes, as in the set above, held mustard.

Mustard was never a shaker seasoning; it didn’t work that way. Its spiciness doesn’t activate until the dry “mustard flour” was mixed with water, vinegar, beer or wine and left to stand for several minutes.

This produced a runny-to-stiff paste which was at first transferred from pot to plate on the point of a knife, but soon got its own dedicated spoon.

There’s a slot in this mustard-pot’s side for a spoon, and the set pictured above may also have such a slot, unfortunately facing away from the camera.

A matched spoon became part of any mustard-pot set…

…and was such a uniform size that “mustard-spoon” was a recipe measurement along with dessert-spoon, tea-spoon, salt-spoon and even cayenne-spoon. (I’ve posted about cayenne as a table condiment elsewhere).

*****

Where’s the salt-shaker in those sets?

When sets like those were in common use, salt-shakers weren’t.

*****

So how did people use salt if it wasn’t in a shaker?

In the Middle Ages and Renaissance salt was put out in ornate dishes called a Salt which were often spectacular works of art.

This was placed at the top end of the table where important people sat; those seated further down were “below the salt”.

Later, and still nowadays in formal settings, salt went into smaller dishes – salt-cellars – which like mustard had their own spoons. These were set on the table between two or four guests.

They took salt with the spoon, and instead of sprinkling it all over, they made a little heap of salt on the side of their plate and added pinches as required with finger and thumb.

*****

The same side-of-plate thing is done with mustard.

English mustard is extremely pungent *, far more so than the Grey Poupon which TikTok Guy slurps so casually off his finger. A little can go a long way, too much can be overpowering, and slathering it over an entire plateful of food can make that food inedible.

(* I’m aware Chinese and Russian mustards are even hotter; they’re not relevant here.)

I once had the educational (okay, also entertaining) experience of watching a friend from the USA putting Colman’s English on their hot-dog as if it was French’s Yellow, then taking a bite. Even then they were lucky, because mustard is hottest when made fresh and the shop-bought from a jar was much weaker than it might have been.

“Made mustard” of the kind which went onto Regency, Victorian and Edwardian tables packs quite a punch, and dishes of that period was far from bland; it took two world wars and their associated rationing to give British food its rep for being dull.

Here’s an example of how mustard is used.

Even though it’s from a jar and feeble by comparison with fresh-made, it’s likely that most of this will remain untouched when the meal is over.

Jeremiah Colman, founder of Britain’s best-known mustard company, was only half-joking when he claimed that the firm’s excellent sales record, and his own fortune, came from not from mustard eaten but from what was left on plates.

Whether on the plate or on the food, mustard for table use never came out of a shaker.

*****

The TikTok cites Bill Bryson, an American writer who, though living in the UK and presumably familiar with local grocery shops, failed to connect the proper name of the shaker (“caster” – TikTok Guy uses the name himself) with a grade of sugar sold by Irish / UK shops right now.

Here are the three standard grades – coarse, medium and fine. Note what the middle grade is called.

“"Caster” has become a single-word description for “fine-grain quick-melting fast-mixing general-purpose cooking-and-baking sugar” but is a literal description both of how it was used (“cast” as a verb) and the container (“caster”) it was in.

*****

TikTok Guy mentions the “expense and effort” of using sugar.

Expense:

From the Middle Ages up to the early 1600s sugar was indeed expensive and only for the rich.

Good Queen Bess’s teeth were in an appalling state because of her sugar consumption, and less-wealthy people sometimes blackened their (healthy) teeth, to suggest they too could afford enough sugar to cause rich-people tooth decay.

However, increased use of slave labour on sugar plantations meant the end product became more and more affordable, and by the mid-1700s sugar was no longer “a luxurious delicacy”. It became a household staple, enough that in 1833 politician William Cobbett ranted about how overindulgence in sugary tea had sapped the vitality of the English working class.

His remedy was home-brewed beer, and lots of it (!)

Effort:

TikTok Guy uses the word as if it’s something out of the ordinary, and seems unaware of how much physical labour – from preparing and cooking food to fetching water to washing dishes to tending the fire or range – went on every single day in a pre-modern-gadgets kitchen.

For instance, before electrical ease or hand-cranked convenience, whipping cream to thickness or beating egg-whites stiff enough for meringues meant thrashing away with a bundle of twigs “until it be enough”, however long that took.

By comparison, breaking down a sugar-loaf was quick and easy, especially since there was a tool for the purpose called “sugar nips”.

There’s a set in one of the TikTok photos, though TikTok Guy didn’t comment on them. He may not have known what they were.

Once nipped off, sugar chunks were reduced to the required texture with a pestle-and-mortar, exactly as was done with every other crushable ingredient in that period kitchen.

This and everything else wasn’t effort in the way TikTok Guy thinks; it was just – especially if a mortar was involved – The Daily Grind.

*****

Conclusion:

I’ve posted about sugar casters before, and the first time (six years ago) was amusingly cautious:

So that third container was IMO for sugar.

Since then, backed with increasing amounts of hard visual proof as shown here and elsewhere, I’ve gone from caution to Certainty.

The “mystery” third container in table cruets was for SUGAR, with enough historical evidence in the form of specifically labelled and shaped containers to confirm it beyond doubt.

*****

And they all sprinkled happily ever after.

The End.

I returned to the bay area in August 2012 to join the Dead Space 3 team in their final six months toward ship, and they told me that they’d all gone to see Prometheus as part of research/team bonding for some scifi horror times.

I hadn’t watched the movie yet and by then it was nearly gone from theaters, except for one of those late run $5 theaters down at a shopping plaza in Cupertino. I decided I needed to share this bonding experience, if only to understand a bit more about the scifi horror stuff the teams had been absorbing, so I headed down to that theater, which at the time felt very far away since I lived in mid-peninsula and south bay is like a great journey into the unknown.

So I arrived at one of those weird liminal space shopping plazas that wasn’t doing too well economically and watched Prometheus late on a Friday night. Now I could talk Prometheus with the team, and we chugged along and finished that video game by January, around the time we were all being laid off, except no one had informed me until the last minute that I wasn’t meant to be laid off but assigned to another team. So I took that because employment is good, then I left two weeks later for a better job with a day’s notice because the new job was with Double Fine and I’d burn the bridge for them.

Anyway, since then I moved around a lot more, back to Portland again, back to the bay area again, and I never forgot that small theater in Cupertino, went back several times to the weird lighting and nearly empty giant parking lot, until finally I saw the notice that the changing times forced them to shut down. The remaining businesses at the shopping plaza–stuff like a tax accountant, a dance studio, a political campaign office–well, they all shut down, and then it was leveled to an empty lot, and now it’s condos, and it’s more condos on condos like it is everywhere, and housing is good, but that theater was there and it must’ve given many people the opportunity to watch movies without breaking the budget, but it’s gone, and it was just a business, but it’s gone and I tell you, I know it shouldn’t affect me the way it does, but I saw Prometheus there, do you understand? I didn’t think I’d ever get the chance to watch that movie in a theater because I was so late to the quest and that theater was there when I needed it, but it won’t be there for anyone now, and now there’s nothing else like it.

And I thought you should know.

beaft:

How to Respond to Criticism

  • Stop doing everything. Don’t say anything or be anything. Get as small as you possibly can without disappearing. Don’t exist. Or keep existing, but differently than before.
  • Remember: criticism is the same thing as wholesale condemnation and also murder, so react accordingly.
  • Apologize, but don’t really mean it, and plant a seed of secret resentment so deep in your own heart that years later you can’t even remember that you’re the one who nurtured it and made it grow, it seems that much like a native part of you.
  • Sink into a hole so deep that no one can ever find you.
  • No. No. No. No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no NO. NO.
  • JUST DIE. JUST GET SICK AND DIE AND THEN YOU’LL FEEL TERRIBLE YOU EVER SAID THOSE THINGS BECAUSE I’LL BE DEAD AND YOU’LL BE SO SO SO SORRY AND YOU’LL WISH YOU COULD BRING ME BACK BUT YOU CAN’T.
  • Give up on all of your goals immediately.
  • Tell everyone you know about the criticism, but in a way that makes it clear that you expect them to publicly find it ridiculous and assure you there’s not a shred of truth to it. Do this repeatedly, first while sober, then later after several glasses of wine on a Wednesday afternoon when no one else is really drinking except for you. “Can you believe it?” Ask them that repeatedly. “Can you believe that? About me?” Ask until no one will meet your eyes.
  • Remember that life is a rich tapestry.
  • Become so rich and strong and tall that you’re a giant made out of gold and nobody can hurt you and everything you do is perfect and you can use your laser diamond eyes to melt the lungs of your enemies.
  • Dwell on it.
  • You can either be perfect or the biggest piece of shit who ever existed but not both, so if the criticism is right, you are the biggest piece of shit who ever existed. If it is not right, you are perfect and everyone else is wrong.
  • Fall in love with whoever criticized you. Don’t walk away until you’ve ruined their marriage.
  • Whisper their criticism every night to yourself until you have it memorized, word for word. Remember it forever. Have the words stitched into the shroud that covers your body before you’re lowered into the tomb so you and your criticism can embrace one another for eternity.
  • Do not rise above it. Never rise above anything. The sky is no place for a human.
  • Be sure not to separate the tone of the criticism from the content. If it was said ungracefully, it cannot be true. If it was said reasonably, it cannot be false.
  • Send an email explaining why you don’t deserve to be criticized, then another six emails after that, each one explaining the last, like a set of Russian nesting dolls that don’t think it’s your fault.
  • Set fire to something that was once beautiful.
  • Run into a cave and break your ankle so that people have to come find you and they see you lying at the bottom of this beautiful cave and maybe there’s a waterfall and the light from the crystals makes you look really beautiful and they say “Are you okay?” and you say “I think so” and they say “oh my God have you been here alone this whole time with a broken ankle” and you say “it’s okay” and they say “you’re so brave” and you are brave and you look so beautiful surrounded by cave crystals and everyone stands over you and says “oh wow” and “you poor beautiful thing” and “I’m so sorry we let you run into the cave but I’m so glad we found you” and let them carry you home and promise to be your best friends forever and that everything’s their fault and also they named the cave after you and you’re prettier than all of your enemies and your enemies all died of jealousy while you were in the cave.
  • Remember that there are only two kinds of people in the world: fans and haters. No true fan would ever express a criticism of you or your work; conversely no hater could ever seek to engage in a good-faith debate about something you said or did they disagree with. Dismiss everything everyone has to say about you.
  • Move away.
  • If it’s a close friend, say “Thank you for being so honest with me,” and then never talk to them again.
  • Do something with your feelings right away. It doesn’t matter what. Lash out, make a sculpture, whatever.
  • Log into YouTube and call someone “living Hitler” and “a waste of skin” until you feel better about yourself.
  • Remember, if someone doesn’t like your work, that means they don’t like you, and they wish that you had never been born, so just lay down in the road and die.

Daniel Lavery, The Toast