Illegal Brownies (Venezuela Edition)

So, as far as I know, there's only one sort of brownie that can get you arrested in the US. Of course, if you're living in Venezuela, all bets are off: 

https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/mar/17/bakers-arrested-illegal-brownies-venezuela-bread-war

In an effort to stop the seditious baking of ham-filled croissants, sweetbreads, and other luxury baked goods the Venezuelan government is taking over bakeries that aren't using their flour properly. 

Pause. 

Yeah. 

I know that I'm a bit behind the times, and there are the more recent mass graves, and supreme court take-overs, and silly little things like that, but this is hilarious. I mean, as hilarious as people being starving or malnourished, and generally miserable and oppressed can be. Which, um, in this case, is pretty funny, er, actually? 

Sorry? 

Besides, there's a long, illustrious history of making jokes about baked goods while the world is crumbling around your ears. 

Though I'm pretty sure that Marie Antoinette's quote goes something more like "Let them eat brioche," but good luck trying to correct people on that. And probably it wasn't even her that said it? If it was instead some German nobleman wondering why poor people didn't just eat krosem (whatever that is). I can easily envision the look on his face. I've seen it on the faces of several dime-store philosophers as they peer into the Starbucks bakery case while debating the meaning of life and their duty towards the lower classes. (Not that they would ever put it that way, of course.)

In fact, I can envision a whole Orwellian passion play in which the bakeries are nationalized, marzipan-workers are unemployed and the entire populace is subjected to the tender mercies of the Canilla Brigade. Society begins to crumble at the edges, and eclairs are smuggled from house to house under cover of darkness... 

Okay, maybe not. But seriously. I thought this was from The Onion at first. And then I realized that this wouldn't occur to any remotely sane person, even one who comes up with this kind of insanity for a living. And then I realized that I should be really, really upset for all Venezuelans (minus the mass-murdering f**kheads, obviously). And then I realized, hey, there are a bunch of "cake or death" jokes in this.  

*Static sound effect*

No one will be surprised to find out than none of the "cake or death" jokes I came up with are fit for public consumption. 

Remorse For Intemperate Speech...

Yes, that should be the title of this blog. No, I'm not changing it.

So anyway, this is a picture of last year's post, "the Orange Catholic Bible," in which I managed to simultaneously offend Catholics, Dune-fanatics and atheists. With bonus points for the middle-brow reference which pissed of my less "well-read" friends. Clearly I have a lot to live up to this year.

Unfortunately, I don't really Drink,* so there's a limit to how unintentionally offensive I can be (haven't found it yet, but that's not the point).

I did remember this though. Yeats, being Irish, 'gets it.'

I RANTED to the knave and fool,
But outgrew that school,
Would transform the part,
Fit audience found, but cannot rule
My fanatic heart.
I sought my betters:  though in each
Fine manners, liberal speech,
Turn hatred into sport,
Nothing said or done can reach
My fanatic heart,
Out of Ireland have we come.
Great hatred, little room,
Maimed us at the start.
I carry from my mother's womb
A fanatic heart.

Yeah. I know it's a stretch. (It also shouldn't surprise anyone that this is one of the first poems I learned of my own volition.)

---

*You have never had a less fun drinking buddy. I take wine by the dram and I'm pretty sure that a hobbit could drink me under the table. I don't even laugh at your drunk-jokes. The only thing I'm worse at is hookah.