Another wonderful dumpster-dove dinner.
Julian and I charged to the market at quarter past 5 through a typically drizzly amsterdam evening. We arrived just in time. The best score was a pile of shrink-wrapped broccoli heads. The most heart warming score - the guy who stopped us picking through the grapes in the dumpster so he could load up a bag of grapes straight from the table.
Over dinner we discussed the difference between hippies and punks. Julian put it well saying, "the philosophy is hard to define. The way they look isn't." We discussed the seeming paradoxes of functional consensus with fundamentalist anarchism. And amidst banter and teasing we noted the challenge of being funny without making fun of someone.
How do we do this? How does this happen? I still think it's the food, even if Julian thinks it's drugs.
