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We have been lucky to discover several previously lost diaries of French
philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre stuck in between the cushions of our office
sofa.  These diaries reveal a young Sartre obsessed not with the void, but
with food.  Apparently Sartre, before discovering philosophy, had hoped to
write "a cookbook that will put to rest all notions of flavour forever."
The diaries are excerpted here for your perusal.
 
October 3
 
Spoke with Camus today about my cookbook.  Though he has never actually
eaten, he gave me much encouragement.  I rushed home immediately to begin
work.  How excited I am!  I have begun my formula for a Denver omelet.
 
October 4
 
Still working on the omelet.  There have been stumbling blocks.  I keep
creating omelets one after another, like soldiers marching into the sea,
but each one seems empty, hollow, like stone.  I want to create an omelet
that expresses the meaninglessness of existence, and instead they taste
like cheese.  I look at them on the plate, but they do not look back.
Tried eating them with the lights off.  It did not help.  Malraux
suggested paprika.
 
October 6
 
I have realized that the traditional omelet form (eggs and cheese) is
bourgeois.  Today I tried making one out of cigarette, some coffee, and
four tiny stones.  I fed it to Malraux, who puked.  I am encouraged, but
my journey is still long.
 
October 10
 
I find myself trying ever more radical interpretations of traditional
dishes, in an effort to somehow express the void I feel so acutely. Today
I tried this recipe:
 
Tuna Casserole
 
Ingredients: 1 large casserole dish
 
Place the casserole dish in a cold oven.  Place a chair facing the oven
and sit in it forever.  Think about how hungry you are.  When night falls,
do not turn on the light.
 
While a void is expressed in this recipe, I am struck by its
inapplicability to the bourgeois lifestyle.  How can the eater recognize
that the food denied him is a tuna casserole and not some other dish?  I
am becoming more and more frustrated.
 
October 25
 
I have been forced to abandon the project of producing an entire cookbook.
Rather, I now seek a single recipe which will, by itself, embody the
plight of man in a world ruled by an unfeeling God, as well as providing
the eater with at least one ingredient from each of the four basic food
groups.  To this end, I purchased six hundred pounds of foodstuffs from
the corner grocery and locked myself in the kitchen, refusing to admit
anyone.  After several weeks of work, I produced a recipe calling for two
eggs, half a cup of flour, four tons of beef, and a leek.  While this is a
start, I am afraid I still have much work ahead.
 
November 15
 
Today I made a Black Forest cake out of five pounds of cherries and a live
beaver, challenging the very definition of the word cake.  I was very
pleased.  Malraux said he admired it greatly, but could not stay for
dessert.  Still, I feel that this may be my most profound achievement et,
and have resolved to enter it in the Betty Crocker Bake-Off.
 
November 30
 
Today was the day of the Bake-Off.  Alas, things did not go as I had
hoped. During the judging, the beaver became agitated and bit Betty
Crocker on the wrist.  The beaver's powerful jaws are capable of felling
blue spruce in less than ten minutes and proved, needless to say, more
than a match for the tender limbs of America's favorite homemaker.  I only
got third place.  Moreover, I am now the subject of a rather nasty
lawsuit.
 
December 1
 
I have been gaining twenty-five pounds a week for two months, and I am now
experiencing light tides.  It is stupid to be so fat.  My pain and
ultimate solitude are still as authentic as they were when I was thin, but
seem to impress girls far less.  From now on, I will live on cigarettes
and black coffee.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Someone earlier suggested a striking similarity between Rush
Limbaugh and television wrestlers.  On my cable system, however,
Rush occupies the slot next to Barney and, while channel surfing
recently, I began to notice the similarity between the two.  For
comparison's sake:
 
                         Barney                 Rush
                         ------                 ----
 
Large clumsy              YES                   YES
animal?
 
Garish, tight-            YES                   YES
fitting clothes?
 
Oversized head            YES                   YES
and oversized rump?
 
Stupid, repeti-          "I love you          "I hate Bill
tious song that           You love me...       I hate  Hillary
is repeated ad
nauseam?
 
Idiotic plastic           YES                   YES
grin no matter
what he's saying?
 
Beloved by some           YES                   YES
but hated by
others?
 
Appeals mostly to         YES                   YES
those of limited
ability to think
for themselves?
 
Makes more money          YES                   YES
than is warranted
by talent?
 
Spawn of Satan?           Some say yes          Some say yes
 
You make the call.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
   A noted eye surgeon performed a delicate but successful operation on
the wife of a noted modern artist.  Besides paying the fee, the artist
was so grateful that he painted one of his famous murals on a wall of the
eye surgeon's waiting room.  As the press watched, the mural was
unveiled, revealing a giant surrealistic eye, with a perfect replica of
the eye doctor standing smiling, centered in the pupil.  As reporters
crowded around the artist with questions, one took the eye surgeon aside
and asked him what his first reaction was on seeing the mural.
   "To tell the truth," the eye doctor replied, "my first thought was,
thank heaven I'm not a gynecologist!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
  In a train carraige one day were two small boys and a middle aged woman
reading a book. The two small boys were having a deep heated discussion on 
the subject of spelling.
  "Its spelt ' W-W-W-W-O-O-O-O-M-M-M-M-B-B-B-B '"
  "No its not. It's spelt ' W-W-W-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-M-M-M-M-M-M-M-B-B-B'"
  The lady leans over and says "Excuse me, but I think you'll find its spelt
'W-O-M-B'"
  First little boy replies " Nah, I bet you've never even seen a 
hippopotamus, never mind heard one fart underwater !"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Q: What happens when a paranoid has low self-esteem?
A: He thinks that nobody important is out to get him.