Cheese Gives me Hope in Humanity

Well, at least artisan-made, raw-milk cheese does. In the midst of violence- and disaster-inspired despair, in the face of anaesthetic, industrial food, I wonder that some humans still take care to husband cows, sheep, and goats, and, using both skill and knowledge received from generations before, turn it into an ephemeral expression of the land and the cultures (both macro and micro) that live there. In a well-made cheese, like well-made wine, you can discern not only the things that define it's type (milk, pasturage, region, season), but the things that define the true ephemerals: the differences from one year to the next, from one artisan cheese maker to another. I even find beauty in the advanced entropy of a really mature cheese - multiple life forms coexisting peacefully (and deliciously) on a complex, colorful surface...

Is it silly to wax poetic about cheese? Perhaps, but I prefer a world where humans still view each work of their hands as important, however ephemeral, however quotidian.

Where to start learning about cheese? Some areas are lucky enough to have artisan cheese makers, or markets that carry a good variety. One of the best books I've found is French Cheeses: The Visual Guide to More Than 350 Cheeses from Every Region of France by Joel Robuchon. You could probably find it in, or request it from, your library. Exhaustive illustrations and very accurate, useful descriptions, symbols and classifications. Online I've found Fromages.com, who present a truly wonderful variety of cheese types and a lot of good educational material as well.

In the US, we're usually only presented with sterile (i.e., dead), sealed "cheese" packages (i.e., body bags) which we maintain sealed up and stored in the fridge (i.e., morgue). With most American cheese, this is probably a good and wise idea. Colder temperatures can mask undesireable flavors. And given that all industrial cheese is pasteurized, the sterile lack of a plurality of healthy microbes invites an agressive germ such as listeria to establish a dominant and deadly monoculture.

Overcome your fears of that runny, moldy thing and begin a sublime culinary obsession!

Dilettant Idea Cluster #1

Complete the cluster for hours of library amusement:

[George Herriman's Krazy Kat] + [Rube Goldberg] + [Pogo] + [...]
=
[Tintin?], [Calvin & Hobbs?], ...

Japanese Stories by a Greek-American

Written by Lafcadio Hearn in the late 19th century, Kwaidan collects his re-told and "invented" Japanese ghost stories. I discovered them through a movie (from my local library naturally) directed by Masaki Kobayashi.

Through these multiple filters the film strikes one as a highly distilled and stylized stage play with the advantage of special effects (though more of a Cocteau sort - very low-tech but magical). The pacing is slower than that to which modern audiences are accustomed, but allows the natural strengh of the stories and images to unfold fully.

Think of it as accessible Noh drama. The extended opening credits should serve as an indicator if you'll enjoy what's to follow: names and titles superimposed over images of primary-colored ink dissolving in water - much more interesting than the Kubrik light shows in 2001. A nice visual attenuation of one's temporal senses while delivering extremely potent images and stories. Of the four stories presented, "Lady of the Snow" and "Hoichi the Earless" (pictured on the DVD cover) were the strongest. "The Black Hair" was less strong in both story and visual style.

Kwaidan will possibly redefine for you what a ghost story is: more Homer and Virgil than (Stephen) King.