Dostoevsky and Doritos

Many proclaim Fyodor Dostoevsky's The Brothers Karamazov to be the greatest novel ever written.  In part of my 2012 Manifesto, one of my hopes was "to finally read The Brothers Karamazov."  I started it in January, reading from the Constance Garnett translation that I own.  I trudged along for a bit, weighted down by the heavy prose and extremely long monologues.  Around page 60 I went to the library and checked out the Larissa Volokhonsky translation, as it was said to be truer to Dostoevsky's original tone.  I read on, still wondering where the story was going, still determined to make it through the 750+ pages.  Around page 100 I paused and read another book (The Reapers are the Angels, which was excellent, review here) to give myself some space, take a deep breath, and ready myself to jump back in.  By page 140ish I had stabbed myself in the eyes repeatedly and rued the day I decided to read this book.  My personal struggle with forsaking a book still is tough.  At 160ish I gave up.  I didn't care about anything that was going on.  I suppose all Russians in the 1800s were maniacal philosophers, from the peasants to the high-ups.  Not only that, they were all apparently somewhat psychotic and prone to outbursts of unequivocal rage/despair.

I quit.  Mom assures me that Crime & Punishment is the better book.  Mayhap I'll try it out sometime and see if my opinions of Mr. Dostoevsky change any.  If so, I may consider Karamazov again.  Or maybe I just need to be much older and wiser before attempting this again.

If Dostoevsky is depressing and dense, Doritos is the exact opposite.  I've long been a fan of the crunchy goodness that the chip brings to any type of food.  Eating a pizza?  Tastes better with Doritos neatly arranged on top of a slice.  Is that a bowl of soup?  Better crunch up some Doritos and pour them in, like you would a cracker.  What's that?  You're eating a sandwich without chips?  Fool.  You know better than that.  It's true.  If I have an addiction in my life, it's to Doritos (and pops, too, which you probably could have surmised).  I seriously eat them with almost every meal that I consume.  If you think I'm joking, well, you'd be surprised.  I think I go through a bag or two a week, and that's the 13oz size.  In my opinion, all foods benefit by adding Doritos to them.  (Mmm.  We made a meatloaf with Doritos crinkled on top once.  Delicious.)

I realize how unhealthy this sounds, and believe me, I wish I didn't desire the things so much, but I do, and there's little I can do to stop myself.  It's bad enough that if I see a flavor I've never had before that I impulsively buy it immediately.  I'm normally a store brand kind of shopper, but with these bad boys I have to have the name brand.  There's just something magical about the crunchy, cheesy bite of heaven that I find superior to any other chip on the market.