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Steven Magee

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“I think one of the things that people misunderstand is that they see the disagreements that we have, sometimes, as if it's dysfunction. And the disagreement is not dysfunction. The disagreement is the result of the design of this form of government. The whole idea was to find as many different points of view as we can identify in the country and put them under one dome and ask them to commit themselves to a process to reconcile their differences and put the country on a path forward. So that disagreement is not dysfunction. That disagreement is how it was intended to work. Where I think we fail sometimes is when we have members who won't commit themselves to the process. They're committed to their own ideology, less to a collaborative process of governing. The dome of the Capitol was intended to sit atop disagreement, but to provide us a venue to reconcile those disagreements, knowing that we're not gonna win every fight, and that we live to fight another day. Not enough people understand that.”

GovernmentCongressCapitolAmerican GovernmentHouse Of RepresentativesDisagreementsUs Government
Author:Dan Kildee
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“It seems like I've only shut my eyes for a few minutes, but when I open them, I flinch at the sight of Haymitch sitting a couple of feet from my bed. Waiting. Possibly for several hours if the clck is right. I think about hollering for a witness, but I'm going to have to face him sooner or later. Haymitch leans forward and dangles something on a thin white wire in front of my nose. It's hard to focus on, but I'm pretty sur what it is. He drops it in to the sheets. "That is your earpiece. I will give you exactly one more chance to wear it. If you remove it from your ear again, I'll have you fitted with this." He holds up some sort of metal headgear that I instantly name the head shackle. "It's alternative audio unit that locks around your skull and under your chin until it's opened with a key. And I'll have the only key. If for some reason you're clever enough to disable it" ---- Haymitch dumps the head shackle on the bed and whips out a tiny silver chip--- "I'll authorize them to surgically implant this transmitter into your ear so that I may speak to you twenty-four hours a day." Haymitch in my head full-time. Horrifying. "I'll keep the earpiece in," I mutter "Excuse me?" He says "I'll keep the earpiece in!" I say loud enough to wake half the hospital. "You sure? Because I'm equally happy with any of the three options," he tells me "I'm sure," I say. I scrunch up the earpiece protectivley in my fist and fling the head shakle back in his face with my free hand, but he catches it easily. Probably was expecting me to throw it. "Anything else?" Haymitch rises to go. "While I was waiting. . . I ate your lunch." My eyes take in the empty stew bowl and tray on my bed table. "I'm going to report you," I mumble into my pillow. "You do that sweetheart." He goes out, safe in the knowledge that I'm not the reporting kind.”

Funny HumorHaymitch And Katniss
Book:Mockingjay
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“Foucault’s description of an eighteenth-century soldier is also an accurate portrait of the typical citizen of District 13. The District 13 citizen is 'something that can be made; out of a formless clay, an inapt body, the machine required can be constructed; posture is gradually corrected; a calculated constraint runs slowly through each part of the body, mastering it, making it pliable, ready at all times, turning silently into the automatism of habit.' If you enact this process on the scale of a whole society, you get a populace that literally embodies obedience.”

PhilosophyBodiesHunger GamesFoucaultHunger Games PhilosophyDistrict 13
Author:Christina Van Dyke
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“So what's your favorite food trend?" he asked. "Oh, don't tell me you're one of those! I hate food trends," replied Gus, albeit pleasantly. "Sunchokes, pomegranate, Meyer lemons, figs, foams- every year something new sweeps the foodies and it's eaten passionately and then practically abandoned. It's irresponsible to the palate." "I love Meyer lemons," insisted Oliver. "So do I," agreed Gus. "But I refuse to be a slave to food fashion." "What's your motto, then?" "Fresh. It's all about fresh," said Gus, her eyes beginning to sparkle. She bought an artichoke up to eye level. "What could we do with this?" "Hearts with fresh pasta, cream sauce, and a dash of nutmeg," he said. "Or herbed in a tart with shavings of fontina.”

OpinionsFresh FoodFood Trends
Book:Comfort Food
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“Here we have filet of roasted halibut, caught this morning right here in Cape Cod Bay. It's pan-seared in a sauce of black garlic, blistered cherry tomatoes, and shishito peppers, both from Longnook Farms, served over a bed of coconut-lime rice with sautéed bok choy." She set the second dish down in front of Diana. "Here we have a confit of Maple Hill Farm duck leg and roasted duck breast in a balsamic-fig reduction, served over sweet-potato hash, with local roasted ramps.”

DuckSeasoningsFresh FoodSurf And TurfEntreesHalibutFarm To Table
Book:That Summer
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“Ramón examined the plate carefully and even lifted it to smell the tacos. There was no fishy scent at all---just a heavenly aroma of ocean mixed with heat. A crispy, yet not greasy, corn tortilla enveloped the fried and battered fish, garnished with lime, avocado, crema, cabbage, and pico de gallo, which was as fresh as his beloved abuela's salsa. Ramón squeezed lime on the taco, raised it to his mouth, and took the first bite. The crunch of the cabbage contrasted with the soft avocado. But the real star was the fish. Crispy, spicy, and delicious. The buttery flesh melted in his mouth. Ramón devoured both tacos in a matter of minutes.”

AuthenticityFlavorsFresh FoodFish Taco
Book:Ramón and Julieta
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