as it turns out, what i have for months assumed to be a rosemary plant growing on my kitchen table, is in fact I Don’t Know, Some Kind of Goddamn Spruce Tree?
what is exciting to me about this realization is that is has involved the discovery of a heretofore unrealized aspect of human existence, that being an experience of embarrassment that is negated by the extent of its own stupidity. how about that, eh?
i’m not even joking, as far as i can tell.
because i’ve even eaten it, before. had it in my head that it was rosemary, probably tossed it into all sorts of things that Rosemary Would Probably Go Good In, although not all that often, for every time i did so it was accompanied by a mild self-admonishment for not taking better advantage of this seemingly ready supply of fresh rosemary at my disposal. but i never noticed, somehow.
until today (why now? who knows?). and there i was, all ready to be pretty seriously mortified at this nigh-unbelievable gaff (me, a Food Person, no less), and then what should swoop in but this further realization that i can’t really be embarrassed, because it is just so inexplicable and stupid that in order to effectively accomplish embarrassment i’d have to be of a certain level of intelligence that actually precludes the possibility of making such a mistake. if you are now thinking to yourself that that doesn’t really make any sense, i’ll do you the favour of suggesting that the only way out of such a paradox is the further fragmenting of selfhood into discontinuous shards and facets of experience, an avenue of escape that i am at least on paper fully willing to take advantage of.
the punchline of the whole affair being that roundabout Christmas time, i thought of hanging on it that single ornamental bulb in order to at least symbolically acknowledge the holiday and my desire to enjoy it in some meaningful and sincere way. the joke, genius in the current light, if you think of it, is on me.
way to go, homunculus.