Oh Myyy! Read Online Free PDF Page B

Theater’s production of my show Allegiance ). Fans came up with brilliant logos that used the space vessels of various shows to spell the word “COEXIST” just as religious symbols had been used in versions past to form that same hopeful word.
    Science fiction is more than just our collective dreams for a human race that reaches to the stars. In many ways, the dreams of yesterday are becoming the realities of today and the path for tomorrow. It amazes me these days to see so many of the concepts first imagined on Star Trek gaining practical application. Our communicators look very much like the early cellular flip-phones. Scientists propose rocket engines powered by, believe it or not, dilithium crystals. Even the concept of warp drive has moved into mainstream theory. Perhaps Gene Roddenberry was a modern-day Leonardo da Vinci, so many of his imaginings coming to pass.
    So is it time for yet another great Star series to come along and lift our eyes and spirits to the heavens? I would hope so, and I can’t wait.

Bacon
     
     
    We’ve all seen it. People love to post pictures of their pricey restaurant meals or fancy entrées they’ve managed to prepare themselves for that special someone. As supportive Facebook friends, we dutifully click “like” to show our appreciation for the beauty of the presentation and the imagined delicacy of the flavors. We do this even though we know the post was simply offered to render us resentful, envious, and hungry.
    But when it comes to food posts, there’s no beating America’s favorite bad boy edible: Bacon.
    Fans “share” and “like” posts about bacon with the gusto of studio audiences applauding Emeril Lagasse’s extra bulb of garlic, tossed into the pot with a “Bam!” Behind it churns the same primal instinct that causes us to nod with approval at things like fried Twinkies (an endangered species after the recent bankruptcy of Hostess Foods), Krispy Kreme donuts, or a whole stick of butter in Paula Dean’s Southern Casseroles. Incidentally, there was a period when deep fried turkeys, an invention of the South, were all the rage for Thanksgiving. But because so many of those who attempted this were badly burned, it has largely petered out as a fad. If you really need to do this, make sure you set it up outside, in a very large pot, and with a portable burner. There was also a time where Turduckens — a combination of a turkey, stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a chicken — were on everyone’s Thanksgiving try list. One of my favorite cartoons showed each of these three birds in the same bed, the turkey smoking a cigarette, a simple caption reading: “And they would never speak of the Turducken again.”
    But back to bacon. As I understand it, “liking” a bacon post is culinary and nutritional defiance. It ignores decades of scientific study on arteriosclerosis and the carcinogenic nature of processed foods. We know bacon is chock-full of sodium, fat, nitrates and more fat. In glorifying bacon, we reclaim a simpler time when we could eat what we wanted to, as we did as children once upon a time, before restaurants began publishing caloric values of food, and packaging cautioned us about fat percentages in our food. When we eat bacon, we throw caution to the wind and truly live , if even just a little.
    I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention that “bacon” also has been the unintended beneficiary of the low-level pop static of a certain “Kevin,” the namesake of one of the best parlor games ever invented.
     

     
    I’ve sometimes imagined that if sin had a flavor, it might very well be bacon. It even tastes smoky, as if it emerged piping hot out of the fiery pans of hell. More than any forbidden fruit, this delectable treat — best when crispy, the little grease bubbles still dancing happily on its crenelated edges — epitomizes things we know we shouldn’t eat, but still crave and keep going back to. In short, it’s food crack.
     

    Photo