Bacon's Essays, by Bacon
As told to Mary Phillips-Sandy

 
     

[You're probably familiar with the essays of Sir Francis Bacon. But what if Bacon's essays were written by... Bacon? -Ed.]

Of Death
Scared to die? No. Not me. And I never was. People get themselves all worked up about death. You hear these stories, and, I mean, look what happens when someone dies. The gnashing of teeth and rending of garments and whatnot. Doesn’t make it seem like a pretty thing. Or even a normal thing. Which, if you ask me, does a disservice. What’s wrong with death? It’s just the other end of birth. We all wind up there eventually. Some of us sooner than others, if we happen to be pigs, but I’m not complaining. That’s life. That’s death. Qui finem vitæ extremum inter munera ponat naturæ, you know?

Of Adversity
I was sitting on a plate reading the paper the other day and there was a story about this CEO who won some award because, basically, it turned out that he hadn’t squandered all his company’s earnings on a private jet for his mistress. They thought he had but he hadn’t. So to make him feel better the company gave him an award. I may be a piece of bacon, but even I know that’s a joke. This guy’s supposed to be a paragon of virtue because he didn’t blow a million dollars? Hello? Oh, the best part is, after he got the award this guy gave a speech where he talked about all the hardship he and his family have faced, right, the suffering they’ve had because of the media scrutiny or whatever, and- if I had a way to vomit, I would, I really would. That stuff makes me sick. This guy’s complaining that he has it bad, well, what about the woman who comes in at night and cleans his freaking corner office that’s bigger than the apartment she lives in with four kids? Huh? What about her? Why isn’t she getting a damn award? I’m not saying I’m a Commie or anything, I’m just saying, some people have their priorities in all the wrong places. Some people wouldn’t know a hard-knock life if it walked in and dusted their desks.

Of Envy
Okay. One time I put depilatory in George Clooney’s shampoo. I’m not proud of it. This was a few years ago.

Of Goodness and Goodness of Nature
You bet I’m good. I don’t mean to brag. It’s just the truth. I am also evidence of a greater good, a divine good, if you will, some benevolent presence that smiles down on all people and graces them with me. Except the kosher people and the Muslim people, but I HASTEN TO ADD that these people get other things instead of me, and are therefore totally included in all gifts of divine and benevolent goodness according to their particular tastes. For example they get lox and those delicious halal chicken kebabs. I do think most people are inherently good. Or more good than bad. I’m no scientist. Nature? Nurture? I think both. I can only speak from my own experience. I know I am inherently good and then a nice vacation in the smokehouse makes me even better. Then there’s the whole thing about doing good, which is really as good as it gets. I do good simply by being myself, but other folks do things like rectify injustices and whatnot. So that’s good. It’s all good. The only people who aren’t good are the ones who can’t bring themselves to do anything nice for anyone ever. The technical term, I believe, is misanthropi. Haters.

Of Superstition
Wholesome meat corrupteth to little worms. Any side of pork can tell you that. People will believe anything! I looked at my horoscope the other day. I’m a Pisces. It said that I should expect a financial windfall by the end of the week. As if. Do people really think this stuff is real? Really? I saw a lady walking down the street the other day and she screamed out loud because the neighbor’s black cat ran in front of her. What, so nuclear war and global warming don’t freak you out? You save that kind of terror for the kittens? People can be such idiots.

Of Regiment of Health
If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. That’s what I say. I know, I know, I’m probably biased, but I think all these reports about how everything is bad for you should be taken with a grain of salt. If that’s okay, on your low-sodium non-fat wheat-free organic vegan diet. Everyone’s all, oooh, bacon is so BAD for you. Well, look. I’ve been bacon my entire life, and I feel fine.

Of Beauty
Strange things can be very beautiful. And sometimes, if you look closely at a beautiful thing or a beautiful person, you realize that it or he or she isn’t so beautiful after all. Sometimes ugly things manage to add up to beauty. I don’t necessarily believe that youth is beauty. I’m aged, but I think I look better now than I did when I was young. Then again, not everyone’s meat ages as well as mine.

Of Negotiating
I prefer to talk things out. If there’s a problem. Why not cut to the chase? If you have a problem with me, say so. Write it down if you have to, stop by, whatever. If you want something from me, ask. And I’ll do the same. Which is not to say I don’t know what people want from me, nine times out of ten. They want breakfast. But it’s still a courtesy to ask first.

Of Anger
Oh, gee. I try not to have a temper. I know it can flare up, though. The old collar gets a bit hot on the underside. It’s an animal instinct, you might say. Then again, humans are animals too, even if no one rubs them with cracked pepper and salt. Everybody gets angry from time to time, and it’s usually – in my experience, anyway – because they’re hurt. You get bitten, you bite back. I’ve only done that a few times, and it was, I mean, I was having a really bad day. Usually I’m a team player. There have been a few exceptions. But the important thing, for all of us, is to think before we say something we can’t take back. Or before we do something we’ll regret later. Like, say, embarking on a bloody mission of revenge and destruction. Trust me, I know. That’s bad.

Of Fame
Now this is a dangerous thing. Have you seen reality television? People crave attention. Or validation. I don’t know if they’re the same thing. I don’t see how they can be. Does eating live crickets on television validate you somehow? That seems pathetic. I’m in the public eye, but I try not to take it too seriously. I appreciate it, but you always have to remember that it can disappear tomorrow. Well, I think there will always be a place for bacon in popular culture, but then again, you just never know. That’s how it is. I’ve had a good time. It’s fun to see yourself in a magazine, it really is. I’ve done some great movies, I had a cameo on Law & Order a few months back. SVU. I’ve shown up in some books and, come to think of it, there have been some paintings and photographs... but I’m not a self-promoter. There’s some kind of organization that does some promotions about me, but I’m not personally connected. Live and let live. I never intended to be a role model. I just do what I do, you know? I’m lucky. People like me. They really like me. And I can’t blame them.


Recipe: Bluesberry Vodka

 

 

 

 

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Mary Phillips-Sandy is from central Maine, but now she lives in Brooklyn. She has written for McSweeney's, Mr. Beller's Neighborhood, Time Out New York, The People's Dance Party, Sadie Magazine, and Bust. She has three tattoos and a degree in economics. She hyphenated her name when she was twelve because she really, really loves punctuation. Because too much is never enough, she does her thang over at www.millwhistle.com AND ruinedmusic.com.



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