**Editorial Note** In an attempt to become more socially responsible, the editorial staff here at Fundamental Jelly has decided to post (on an irregular basis) information that our readers may find both enlightening and utilitarian. While we enjoy publishing photographs and making fun of people and institutions, we realize that a steady diet of visual and written frivolity has its limitations. So, in that spirit, welcome to the first Fundamental Jelly Public Service Message (FJPSM). This inaugural edition of FJPSM is dedicated to Literary Criticism and International Gastronomy.
1. Literary Criticism
To help you wade through this morass that is modern literature, I have, for your convenience, penned the following ultra short story in its usual form and then will provide a second version in which I will point out parenthetically examples of symbolism, foreshadowing, subtext, etc. Unless noted otherwise, the Olsen twins would symbolically be referred to as “those two skanks.”
Burt’s Bees (Original Version)
John sat on the porch with his live-in girlfriend Allison reading the Sunday New York Times. The morning was bright, calm, and the sky was gin clear. Allison was doing some nail maintenance and applying some Burt’s Bees cuticle cream.
“I can’t believe the Giants lost again,” John stated.
Allison wasn’t listening; she was considering working on her toe nails.
“Al, want to go see a flick this afternoon?”
Allison was fixated on her left foot. After a moment she blurted out, “Did you already forget, we’re meeting Jill and Mattias at Applebees at five.”
“Oh, yea, that’s right.”
John stood up and stretched, “Want some more coffee?”
“No thanks,” she said still focused on her foot, “I’m going to take a bath.”
Burt’s Bees (Annotated Version)
John sat on the porch (denotes home ownership and therefore affluence) with his live-in girlfriend (amoral Gen-Xers) Allison reading the Sunday (atheist bastards) New York Times (commie bastards). The morning was bright, calm, and the sky was gin clear (no meteorological subtext, probably just a really nice day). Allison was doing some nail maintenance (compulsive germ freak) and applying some Burt’s Bees (despite the folksy name, Burt’s Bees is probably owned by a large German company which is a subchapter ‘S’ corporation of a giant multinational corporation headquartered in Singapore.) cuticle cream.
“I can’t believe the Giants lost again,” John stated. (clearly a lie, both these people hate sports)
Allison wasn’t listening; (antisocial behavior) she was considering working on her toe nails. (anal retentive)
“Al, want to go see a flick this afternoon?” (a foreshadowing of possible sex later)
Allison was fixated (narcissistic behavior) on her left (commie bastard) foot. After a moment she blurted out, “Did you already forget, (anger issues) we’re meeting (control freak) Jill and Mattias (Euro-trash bastard) at Applebees (corporate restaurant chain where the walls are decorated with dozens of Pop Culture icons and serves horrific food) at five.”
“Oh, yea, that’s right.” (passive / aggressive)
John stood up (male domination) and stretched, “Want some more coffee?” (no doubt some brand of shade-grown coffee produced by a co-op of environmental activists and some Indians from Guatemala)
“No thanks,” she said still focused on her foot (which foot? If it’s the left, it is not mentioned…a subtle dismissal of progressive politics), “I’m going (symbolic female empowerment) to take a bath.” (symbolic of cleansing away all free-market capitalistic ideologies)
2. International Gastronomy
Here is a drawing of a Swedish meatball: (This meatball is known as the Ikea Variant and is found throughout the Stockholm region)
Here is a drawing of a Norwegian meatball*: (Note the subtle difference. This meatball form is a favorite of Norwegian country folk and is made with meat of an imprecise nature)
*Note: Meatballs from all the other Scandinavian countries (Iceland, Finland, and Denmark) are all so similar in color and texture that to render a drawing of each would be superfluous.
Call me Ishmael. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Lolita, light of my life, fire of my loins. I am an invisible man. Most of us are familar with these iconic opening novel lines because we have read these books or saw them in a Jeopardy category. So, I thought I might provide you with a little literary diversion on this fine Saturday afternoon. What follows is ten opening lines. Four of which are from well known novels written by famous authors, two from slightly more obscure novelists, and four lines which I have made up myself. The goal is twofold—to identify as many opening lines as you can and/or at least try to spot the sham lines I have written. I realize that Google has rendered amusements like this almost moot, but try finding the phoneys without wandering off into cyberspace. 
Random Marginalia From People On Lithium