Apples and Oranges...

...go together like bananas and pears. IN A BLENDER.

Which actually makes quite a refreshing fruit drink, if you remove the skins and the pips and the flesh and all the fruit and replace the fruit with Ice Cream and replace the blender with a bowl and add a spoon, unmashed, for your eating with.

It wasn't too hard, especially if you don't actually start with the fruit at all.

Alchemy. Always trying to turn lead into gold. Why didn't they try something a little less challenging? It seems to me that people are always setting their sights a little high, weather out of greed, or often, out of lazyness: set your sights really high and you have the perfect excuse for when it doesn't work. Because it was impossible to begin with. But if you pent your time not trying to turn lead into gold but instead tried to turn fruit into vegetables all you would have to do is produce a tomato and start a discussion, and by the end of it not only would have the tomato changed between the two states during the conversation but you will have probably discovered quantum- no matter whether the tomato is fruit or vegetable, it is allways, at some level, somewhere, a really stupid disscussion that doesn't change it at all.

A metaphor for life in general? Perhaps. I don't really know. But as a metaphor it tastes good on toast. And isn't that all that really matters?

Yes. Mechanics of the universe aside, we wouldn't have many scientists if they forgot to eat.

In other news: The olympics are over. Let us now start the Large Hadron Collider and end the need for journalism.

"The Understanding"

"Women: You can't live with 'em, you can't live without them."
"You said it"
Both drink.

OR:
"Damn Women are crazy. Crazy like foxes! Rabid foxes."
"You said it."
Both drink.

OR the extremely abridged version:
"Women"
"Yup"
Drink.

This converversation happens all around the world, in many different languages, for many different reasons. It is said that a man complains about a woman about once every three minutes, and six times out of ten that woman hears, and punishes him for it. Because they have the hearing of foxes.
I'm sure that women complain about men too- but I've never been privy to such conversations, nor herd them happening. Part of the reason for this is that men do not have the hearing of foxes, but instead are unlikely to hear anything if they are concentrating on something particular. Like breathing. But we've all heard echos of the woman side of the complaint, when we are drunk and something slips, just a shadow of a suggestion, during the shouting match about the state of the bathroom when suddenly some female friend's opinion is suddenly quoted about your before unknown breaches of behaviour (probably past protests were unheard because we were breathing too loud) or the few of us man-folk who have stumbled into the secret coven meetings also known as "ladies night" and not been brainwashed. Often these remarks pass by our notice as we are fighting for sobriety, toilet seat rights or our lives, but at a subconsious level they regester. And this behaviour isn't confined to heterosexual relations either. Steriotypes of wincing, homosexual men with snarky comments and troupes of lebian women in face to face screaming matches probably had basis in fact somewhere.

The consensus is clear. We know you complain. You know we complain. We know that you know that we know you complain. Etc.

The question then arises, why do we do so?
Scroll back to the neanderthal conversation examples at the top of this page. Often a precursor to these discussions is the obsevation that no one really understands the other person. That we are all completely undefinable and therefore any sort of venture into the relms of love, companionship and casual intercourse is going to be as fraught with danger and spectacle as Oddysessussesssf (you know the guy) 10 year journey home. But the boast is often proved wrong. Not many men can fit ten epic years of adventure and longing into three hasty and sticky minutes.

We've had tests: the Freudian and Jungian archetypes, star-sign compatability asessments, the comparing of various body parts to see if they are similar shapes; we've written books: books on anatomy, books on mentality and even books suggesting that we are from different planets. Everyone has an opinion on the matter: your friend, their friend, the overly friendly guy at the other end of the bar. People have been known to take relationship advice from their cats. Little wonder. Cats are a species that have EVERYTHING worked out.

But still, with all the collaboration, discussion and literature on the matter, it still always boils down to this:
"I mean, what the hell are they thinking about?"
"Well, perhaps in your case it is simply a matter of inauspicious stars at time of birth, her tendancy to over romantasize the male as a father figure and your reapeated insistance on trying it from "the rear entry" as I beleive it is colloqually known."
"...what?"
"I mean... yeah mate, I dunno."

Are we really so complicated? Wait for it! The secrets of relationships both intimate and platonic are about to be revealed!!!:

No. Get over yourselves. There are only two vailid theories as to why we have so much trouble getting along with other people.

1:
We're all just fleshy bags of instincts and preferances who construct vast fantasies of themselves to make themselves feel better when spurrned. In truth there isn't alot difference between us in wants and desires but it makes us feel more justified when we speak to a long known friend about why he/she/they were dumped/dumped you if you say that it was because of a crucial incompatability in fundamental life philosophies rather than they kept you awake at night with their night noises and it's hard to be in a caring relationship when you are so tired that you fall asleap in your porridge and find yourself trying to put the milk back in the cat.

2:
Everyone, absolutely everyone, is insane.



Well, wasn't that fun? I should get one of those noble prize thingies.