Welcome to the bloggy home of Noah Brier. I'm the co-founder of Percolate and general internet tinkerer. This site is about media, culture, technology, and randomness. It's been around since 2004 (I'm pretty sure). Feel free to get in touch. Get in touch.

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An Open Letter to Pickles

[Editor’s Note: I wrote this a while ago and submitted it to McSweeney’s Internet Tendency’s “Open Letters to People or Entities Who are Unlikely to Respond.” Unfortunately, the McSweeney’s people didn’t think it was funny enough to post. They’re probably right, but luckily the editorial process at NoahBrier.com is far less stringent. So, here’s my letter, if it’s not funny then tell me (and if it is funny, that’s nice to hear to).]

Dear Pickles,

What have you become? You used to be so bright and crunchy; but
somewhere in the pickling process you changed, I barely recognize you.
As a cucumber you used to hang out with the healthy crowd. You sat
proudly atop salads, hanging out with your friends tomato and lettuce,
and blended so perfectly with yogurt in tzatziki.

Now you run seem to run with a different crowd. Whenever I’ve seen you
lately, you’re relishing your role as divider on the plate with a
greasy burger, helping to keep the juices from reaching the crisp
french fries. Sometimes you even bathe yourself in the mayo-drenched
cole slaw. Is this any way for a self respecting vegetable to act?

While I must admit I appreciate the willingness to share that you seem
to bring out in people, don’t you ever worry that you’re polarizing the
country? I’ve been hard-pressed to find another subject upon which so
many people disagree. With you, there’s no grey area, it’s either love
or hate. Does this make you happy? Why are you doing this to yourself
and to others?

In the old days, you held a prominent place in the vegetable aisle,
huddled with your other green buddies. Now what have you become? You
swim around in a barrel of brine all day, just waiting for someone’s
dirty hand to fish you out. I refuse to believe that this is a happy
life for you.

While I know it’s too late to save you from a life of pickledom, I can
only hope that you’ll wise up and help keep all those young cucumbers
off the brine.

Thinking of you,
Noah Brier

December 19, 2004