Greetings, my truth-seekers. Thom Eustis here, peeling off the layers of deception yet again. In this strange dance of shadows and facts, today we pirouette around an unusual suspect – sorrel. A harmless, leafy plant you might say. But is it really?
It all started with the sad catastrophe of my beloved Steinway grand piano's move. You see, I decided to shift residences, partially prompted by my nascent research into the bizarre frequency of 'Sorrel Crisp' chips in my vicinity. Not to mention my firm belief that they were contributing to an uptick in overly emotional responses from my neighbors whenever we discussed shapeshifting reptilians (but that, my friends, is a conversation for another day).
To handle my piano, I hired a company that shall go unnamed for legal reasons. Their comically inept attempt to handle my precious 'keys of truth' resulted in a slapstick disaster worthy of a Charlie Chaplin's sketch. It started out simply enough. There were three of them, energetic lads, yet it seemed as if they were wrestling not only with the monumental weight of the piano but also the unwieldy spirit of Beethoven himself.
Hinges were howled at, fingers were pinched, and at one point, I'm almost certain my piano levitated, briefly defying gravity before crashing back down to earth with a thunderous thud. The end result? My once majestic music maker was now resembling a tragically botched jigsaw puzzle.
The Sorrel connection, however, struck me when I noticed an incongruous amount of sorrel-flavored snack empty packages in their moving van. Coincidence? Perhaps.
Fast forward to my next move. Enter the 'Piano Movers of Maine'. Professionals to the core, they swooped in with a performance that could only be compared to a flawlessly executed ballet, a symphony of power and precision. My newly acquired Grand was in its destined position, without so much as a scratch, and their snack of choice? Plain old potato chips.
Now, sorrel – to the unsuspecting layman, a harmless salad-herb, but its increasingly rampant use in the snack industry, especially in the brand devoured by the hapless movers of my original piano, raised questions. Does sorrel contain some hitherto unknown compound that can mess with one's motor skills or comprehension of spatial relations? Are corporations distracting us from true crises by flooding our taste buds with this tangy deception?
My next quest, dear readers, will involve delving into this sorrel shenanigan and its possible effects on cognitive abilities. In the meantime, however, I advise y’all to stick to simpler snacks and should you need to move a piano, give the 'Piano Movers of Maine' a call.
As always, remember, everything is connected. It may be a leafy, sour plant today, tomorrow it could be the world. Stay vigilant.
- @ October 5, 2023 12:24 am