fork-free

[fork-free]

The End

First of all: loyal readers, I apologize. My fork-free month ended on July 4, and I was hoping it would be the start of a forkless life for me.

It hasn't been so easy.

Over the last two weeks I realized that, sadly, I am going to have to compromise. As I've pointed out time and again, society is incredibly hostile to the fork-free. The kitchen in any office has massive boxes full of plastic forks, just sitting there, taunting you. You go to almost any restaurant and they practically shove a fork right in your face, daring you to use it. People you thought were your friends look at you like you're an idiot when you use a spoon and a knife to cut your spaghetti into half-inch strips. Hell, you asked the waiter for short-spaghetti and they pretended not to hear you, even after letting them know you're fork-free. They probably spit in your food, too.

Short of moving to a more enlightened country like China, I've decided to make a few changes that should help me maintain my dignity and humanity.

I will spend at least 3 hours a day without using a fork.

Sundays will be completely fork-free, even if it means I have to stay at home.

When I do use forks, I'll only use them for meal-related purposes. No combing my hair with a fork or using a fork as a paperweight, that kind of thing.

I will say that I'm thankful for my month without a fork. It has taught me to be more mindful of my daily practices. From now on, every time I instinctively choose to use a fork, I'll pause to reconsider: is this fork really necessary? Often, the answer is no.

I want to leave you with this quote from an 11th century Venetian clergyman, a man whose wisdom stands the test of time:

God in his wisdom has provided man with natural forks—his fingers. Therefore it is an insult to him to substitute artificial metal forks for them when eating.

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An example of the fork's inherent inefficiency.

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Day 27

I've lost 15 lbs since starting my fork-free month. The fork is a mere shovel for food: it encourages gluttony and intemperance. Using spoons, knives, and of course my hands has caused me to ponder each bite: do I really need to eat this? Or am I sated?

I've been alerted by several readers of a recent study that shows that the cutlery you use affects the way food tastes. I applaud these researchers, yet they haven't gone far enough. We need to study whether cutlery influences your friendships, your sex life, your moral compass, your digestive system, your migraines, your posture, your intelligence, your career, your education, your pets, your finances, your mortgage, your neighbors, your landscaping, your hair, your personality, your depression, your sleep, your running speed, your sense of humor, your eyesight, your hearing, your ability to operate heavy machinery, your martial prowess, your pain tolerance, your grieving process, your interpersonal conflict resolution style, your imagination, your dexterity, your appetite, your fertility, your concentration, your allergies, your dental health, your bone strength, your height, and more.

Once science is willing to concede that cutlery affects all of these things, and that forks affect them negatively--only then can I pause for a brief respite.

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Day 25.

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Day 22

  I realized something disturbing yesterday. A coworker brought peanut butter cookies to the office. I was about to eat one (cookies are one of the great fork-free foods!) when I notice its distinctive patterning.

Look at this.

For whatever reason, the vernacular signifier for "peanut butter cookie" is to take a fork and press a cross-hatched design into the top.

This is obviously perverse and unnecessary, but it also got me thinking: what about foods that are made with forks? If a fork is used in the process of cooking, should we eat the food that results? What if the cook lazily uses a fork to beat an egg instead of an egg beater (or better, their fingers)? What if a fork is used to hold meat in place as it's being carved? There are dozens of places where a misguided chef could introduce the unneeded fork into the kitchen.

I think upstanding chefs should let the public know that their kitchens are fork-free! And if they don't: what are they hiding? At the very least, restaurants should be open to suggestions from diners that their dishes not be made using forks.

...oh no. What about the pitchforks used on farms where animals are raised?

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Day 20

At dinner with some friends yesterday I proposed the following: "Let's all put our forks in the middle of the table. The first person compelled to reach for theirs buys dinner for everyone!"

I was very excited to restore some civility and humanity to the dinner-eating process, but they seemed... unenthusiastic. The exercise lasted only until the appetizers arrived, when one of them (and I'm not going to say who, for fear of embarrassing them!) said, "I'm not going to eat my salad with a fucking spoon, Darius." And she reached for her fork.

I tried to reason with her: she could use her hands! Or a napkin! But it was too late. She grabbed the fork and started... well, there's no other word for it really: she was attacking her salad.

So I informed her that I would happily enjoy my free meal that she so graciously just agreed to pay for. "I never agreed to anything," was her response.

I feel sorry for her. She's so blinded by her addiction to forks that she can't even keep a simple promise to a friend. Forks devastate lives and destroy friendships and families every day, though. It's a sad fact. Is there a twelve-step program out there for fork addicts? Maybe I should start one...

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Day 17

I found this poem by Charles Simic, called "The Fork". It perfectly embodies my campaign, my struggle.

This strange thing must have crept Right out of hell. It resembles a bird’s foot Worn around the cannibal’s neck. As you hold it in your hand, As you stab with it into a piece of meat, It is possible to imagine the rest of the bird: Its head which like your fist Is large, bald, beakless, and blind.

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This past Saturday I was interviewed by Simon Morton on Radio New Zealand's This Way Up, discussing the fork-free lifestyle.

Topics discussed:

The fork as the embodiment of aggression

What about sporks?

The relative morality of different pastas

Audio embedded above, and here's a link to the show itself.

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Day 10 - A paean to hand-eating

When we eat, we talk about 'texture' and 'mouth-feel' and all that kind of stuff. But when we use the fork, we unnecessarily separate ourselves from the food itself. Think about it: a spoon does things our hands cannot--namely, hold water. A knife cuts things that our hands cannot. But what does a fork do? It picks things up. It's superfluous. Hold your hand in front of your face. Extend your fingers. That's all the fork you need.

We speak of being alienated from our food, but most of that critique only considers our mental relationship to the food. What about the physical relationship?? We eat entire meals without our hands ever touching the food we eat. Is that how our ancestors lived? We didn't evolve that way! We should be tearing our food apart, bit by bit, feeling the flesh of the turnip or of the rabbit rend between our phalanges, reveling in its texture as it sails from plate to mouth on a chariot of hand.

Also, I speak from experience when I say that Wet Ones come in handy.

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Day 7

While everyone intuitively understands that the fork is unhealthy, did you know that there is science to back this up?

@tinysubversions Did you know that the widespread modern overbite is attributable to the adoption of forks? theatlantic.com/health/archive…

— Shane Liesegang (@OptimistPanda) June 4, 2013

Forks are unnatural. It's our imperative to excise them from our lives.

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I open the utensil packet at lunch. Not even a spoon. It’s as though we, the fork-free, are invisible to the rest of the world. Disgusting.

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Day 4

"Have you considered the privilege that allows you to carry out this ridiculous experiment?"

My wife is not happy with me right now. She thinks I'm being "self-serving" and "solipsistic" (she said I could post this). I have to say, it's been really tense during mealtime at home. She sits there across from me, rudely eating her eggs with a fork, like I'm not even there. Click, click, click, go the tines on her plate. I've asked her to stop. She rolls her eyes. She doesn't realize I'm grasping at something realer than the fantasy fork world she pretends to live in every day. If you can even call it living.

Meanwhile, I soldier on.

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Day 3

Not using forks has freed up so much time to slow down and enjoy life's simple pleasures. You know how many books I've read in the last 24 hours alone? Three. Three books. That's how many books I used to read in a year, if I was lucky.

Why is that? Take a moment and look at the fork you're holding right now. That emotion you're feeling? It's information overload. At mealtime, not only do you have to take the time to choose which fork to use, but also while you're eating, you look down at your plate and there are literally dozens of places you could put that fork. Do you place the tines in vertically, horizontally, or at some other angle? Or do you use the fork to scoop? Do you use the back of the fork to mash down your food into little pieces? Do you use the edge of the fork as a makeshift knife?

These decisions not only take time: they also make it so that each food-laden bite is packed with anxiety. I'm sleeping better now that I don't have to sit at a table three, maybe four times a day, fretting about all of the things that the fork (supposedly a convenience!) demands of us.

With forks in my life, I'd try and read but I would quickly get distracted thinking about my next meal's tine placement strategies. But now? I have more time, I feel less anxious, I get more sleep. I can just sit down in a nice chair and read for once! I'm truly living life for the first time.

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Day 2

My second day was harder. Tried to eat spaghetti.

It's strange: without the instant food-to-plate-to-mouth gratification, you come away from a meal... hungrier. It's like we're conditioned to put food directly into our mouths in the most soulless way possible.

This is what I'm fighting against.

I think I'll switch to tortellini.

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Day 1

One day of a fork-free lifestyle, and so far it is exhilarating. I barely have time for an update as my mind is swimming right now--I'm seeing things I've never seen, smelling things I've never smelled--more on that later. For now, here's a picture of me at dinner last night. I was out at a restaurant and of course they gave me a fork to eat with, SIGH. So I improvised using two souvenir pencils that were part of the place setting.

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A Month Without a Fork

The amenities of the modern world sometimes blind us to truths about our humanity. The internet connects us more than ever with our fellow humans, while simultaneously fomenting a sense of disconnection stronger than ever before. Smartphones exacerbate the problem, turning it into a full-blown information addiction. Cars clog our streets and our air. Electricity is an unwelcome interloper, extending the work day until well beyond sunset. Running water binds us to the tyranny of the tap. The hammer introduces a myopic nail-tunnel-vision.

Emblematic of this modern world run amok is one piece of technology that the Western world seemingly cannot do without. I am, of course, talking about the fork.

You may not realize it, but you are addicted to forks. You probably use a fork every single day of your life. You may be holding a fork right now, eating a salad while plugged in to your smartphone at a cafe, or perhaps tucking in to a plate of eggs at your work desk reviewing the morning's email queue.

Ask yourself: when was the last time you used a fork? It was probably pretty recently, wasn't it? Now ask yourself: what's the longest amount of time you've gone without using a fork? Maybe 24, 48 hours?

This is a Western industrial affliction. There are people in Asia who go weeks, months, years and even lifetimes without using forks, and they are richer for having done so.

It is time to put down the fork. It is time to reclaim our humanity.

I have vowed to go forkless for 30 days. From now until July 4 (Independence Day--I shall finally be free of my dependence on the fork), no tines shall pass these lips. I will not so much as touch a fork. And I will log my experience here so that the world can know what going fork-free is really like.