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"Gourmet
Village " With a wire whisk,
slowly add the following ingredients, in random order: Add three peeled phobias, two tablespoons of condensed neurosis, and a shake of schizophrenia. Stir in all the compassion available, until the mixture is well covered. Add excessive pizza, impressionistic art form, improvisional rock-and-roll, mangled seventeenth century hymns, and a generous supply of unrelated rhythm instruments in the hands of people without any sense of rhythm. Amalgamate a dollop of weird, a pound of humor, an assortment of house paint, candle drippings, and movie clips. Add a pinch of youthful mayhem. Two pinches. Add additional love. Add twice as much love as you think is necessary to hold the mixture togehter--it will all be necessary. Stir in a cup of tender mercy and an ounce of finely chopped brutality. Add a packet of bad history and two of bright hope. In a separate bowl, combine two parts skepticism with three parts faith, then fold into the mixture with scripture. Season with passion, temper with inertia. Deposit the mixture into a community pan. Baste with contradiction then sprinkle with oxymoron. Heat unevenly at postmodern temperatures for an arbitrary length of time. Serves many. Do not refrigerate.
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