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“The cuisine of Northern Iran, overlooked and underrated, is unlike most Persian food in that it's unfussy and lighthearted as the people from that region. The fertile seaside villages of Mazandaran and Rasht, where Soli grew up before moving to the congested capital, were lush with orchards and rice fields. His father had cultivated citrus trees and the family was raised on the fruits and grains they harvested. Alone in the kitchen, without Zod's supervision, he found himself turning to the wholesome food of his childhood, not only for the comfort the simple compositions offered, but because it was what he knew so well as he set about preparing a homecoming feast for Zod's only son. He pulled two kilos of fava beans from the freezer. Gathered last May, shucked and peeled on a quiet afternoon, they defrosted in a colander for a layered frittata his mother used to make with fistfuls of dill and sprinkled with sea salt. One flat of pale green figs and a bushel of new harvest walnuts were tied to the back of his scooter, along with two crates of pomegranates- half to squeeze for fresh morning juice and the other to split and seed for rice-and-meatball soup. Three fat chickens pecked in the yard, unaware of their destiny as he sharpened his cleaver. Tomorrow they would braise in a rich, tangy stew with sour red plums, their hearts and livers skewered and grilled, then wrapped in sheets of lavash with bouquets of tarragon and mint. Basmati rice soaked in salted water to be steamed with green garlic and mounds of finely chopped parsley and cilantro, then served with a whole roasted, eight kilo white fish stuffed with barberries, pistachios, and lime. On the farthest burner, whole bitter oranges bobbed in blossom syrup, to accompany rice pudding, next to a simmering pot of figs studded with cardamom pods for preserves.”

“The cult of friendship disturbs me. It's like our quality is supposed to be measured by the number of friends we have. For me, it's quite the inverse. When somebody says "I'm friends with everyone" I just assume they have the spine of your average jellyfish and the integrity of your average soap dish. "I have tons of close friends!" Ok, then you obviously have no standards. "I've slept with lots of people!" Good, I will shake your hand from inside this Hazmat suit. It's like you have to have friends or you're nothing, and you gotta have lots of friends, and the more friends you have the more value you have. This Is a way of lowering our standards to fit in. I'm a big fan of quality over quantity. Everyone wants to look at their life like it's a beer commercial they can just climb into. The larger the circle of friends the more alcohol is involved to blind yourself to the fact that you cant stand most of these assholes.”

“The cult of the omnipotent state has millions of followers in the united States. Americans of today view their government in the same way as Christians view their God; they worship and adore the state and they render their lives and fortunes to it. Statists believe that their lives - their very being - are a privilege that the state has given to them. They believe that everything they do is - and should be - dependent on the consent of the government. Thus, statists support such devices as income taxation, licensing laws, regulations, passports, trade restrictions, and the like.”

“The cultivation of generosity is the beginning of spiritual awakening. Generosity has tremendous force because it arises from an inner quality of letting go. Being able to let go, to give up, to renounce, and to give generously all spring from the same source, and when we practice generosity ... we open up these qualities within ourselves.”

“The cultivation world did not care about wedding attendants, and would not have the female cultivator wear a veil. Supposedly, a thousand years ago, a male cultivator from the mortal world wanted the female cultivator he was marrying to wear a veil. The female cultivator then beat him up. After the beating, the female cultivator said, what bad habit was this? Other men could not look at a woman’s face at the wedding banquet but a man’s face could be seen by other women? Their path union ceremony was cancelled because of this. The male cultivator’s tragic and true experience helped speed up the equality between genders in the cultivation world. At least, not many male cultivators dared to have female cultivators do things that they themselves were not willing to do.”

“The cultural and political conflicts in the contemporary world have much to do with the clash of the senses of dignity in different cultures. When the Jihad suicides attacked the western civilians, they might have acted out of the belief that this was the way to vindicate their own dignity, while their attacks obviously devastated the dignity and basic rights of the victims. It seems paramount that, in order to guarantee the world peace, justice, and prosperity, the governance of a harmonious “global village” requires a global constitutional order based on the moral discourse of human dignity. Such discourse may not produce a universally agreed understanding of human dignity, but it will help to improve consensus and reduce tensions among nations of different cultures.”

“The cultural integration of psychedelics won't happen overnight, and the question of young people is perhaps the most difficult involved. The first step is for people who have knowledge of these substances to share it, "coming out" about their own experiences. Drug education should be honest and present a balanced picture of risks and benefits.”

“The cultural left's emphasis on identity means that other ways people are oppressed are overlooked. Class is the biggest way that people are oppressed, by a system that is made entirely by humans. People who suffer poverty experience a lack of access to suitable housing, healthcare, education and other things. There are much worse things than being called by the wrong name or being asked where your 'really' from. With poverty comes coldness, pain, fear, confusion, hunger, and embarrassment.”

“The culturally specific, in particular, the American porch play that American writers have cherished and loved for many years in terms of their new writing, has seemed to have very little relevance to a much more fast-flowing, abstract, experimental drama that has been emerging in [the UK]. The porch play, not to mention that thing of, Oops, I wasn't loved enough by my father, somehow didn't have the relevance in this country.”