Books can be broken down into four classes: popcorn, steak, caviar, and celery.
Popcorn is pretty obvious. Anyone here enjoy The Destroyer novels by Sapir and Murphy as much as me? gobble gobble gobble Steak is the stuff you can bite into, chew, swallow, and gain sustenance from. Some of us use spices on our steak, or do interesting things with it by stir-frying it, adding ginger and various vegetables, and so on. In my case, paprika. But at the end of the day, it is steak. Niel writes particularly good steak--range fed, the spicing is different every time, always delectable, and some of it obviously comes from places where cattle are not indigenous, making you go, "Wow. How did they ever think of doing that?" as you go for the next bite.
Gene Wolfe and John M. "Mike" Ford write caviar. It is a lot of work to get to. You have to open the can, you have to make sure the refrigeration is exactly perfect. You have to have the right atmosphere, and you have to approach it with the proper reverence if you're going to get anything out of the experience. But if you do, my god, is it worth it!
Celery is that stuff you have to chew and chew and chew and, by the time you're done, you've gotten even less nutritional value from than the popcorn. I won't name any names.
Some turn up their noses at popcorn. Well, that's okay. Just don't bring 'em to a ball game. Most of us like steak, in one form or another. Some object to caviar because they have just never got into the glories of eating--into food that is worth the work. For them, the payoff just isn't there.
The interesting thing, to me, is that there really are people out there who like the celery because it is so hard to chew, and the fact that there's nothing of substance there doesn't bother them.
La verdad es que estoy de acuerdo. A la mayoría nos gustan los filetes, aunque a veces nos apetece echarnos unas palomitas. De vez en cuando es una gozada echarse un caviar al cuerpo, aunque no siempre es fácil de encontrar, pero a mi el apio me gusta en pequeñas dosis. Si se abusa de el, uno se cansa.
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