You know how when you’re making chicken soup—real chicken soup, actual from-scratch chicken soup—you have to make stock first? You have to cut up a chicken, and some onions and celery and carrots, and whatever, and you have to throw it all into a big pot and simmer it. You have to simmer it low and slow, for a long time, until it becomes a rich delicious stock. And then you throw it all away. (Well, except for that delicious stock, of course. And you probably fish out the chicken meat. But you get my drift.) The stock is not the soup. The stock is necessary to the soup, but it’s not the soup.
That’s the way I feel about all of this #occupy stuff. It’s the stock. It’s the bubbling, simmering stock that may ultimately be used as a component in a very delicious, progressive, politically efficacious soup. Possibly with dumplings. But to expect the stock to be the finished soup is, if you will excuse me, a recipe for disappointment. And to dismiss the process of making stock as unnecessary and wrongheaded and misguided because it is NOT the soup pisses me off.
That’s all I got to say about that. And now I’m craving soup.











