Note: My pal Meg wrote this up and I dug it enough that I decided to post it. Enjoy!
I had to copy Cervantes' style for an assignment. I'm so darn proud of what I came up with, that I have to brag and show it off. Brag, brag, brag......And here's the showing off part. [drum roll] Ta da!
Behold! This tomato which I hold aloft in my hand is one of utmost perfection! It encompasses every virtue a tomato can hold, and then some. Look well upon its glossy hide and ruby redness.
Its coat is as fine as any nobleman's horse, being both clean, shiny, and rich. It is also soft, as a lady's hair or silk robes. Forsooth, it could be a lady's hair or gown. If I did not know better, and had not these two eyes you see set in my head, I might be led to believe it was anything but a tomato, a common garden product. I might be led to make love to it at the window in moonlight, while seated upon my noble steed, had I not these two eyes in mine head, and my fine intellect. But for these human qualities, this devious tomato I hold aloft could mislead any man, no matter how wise.
Should I hold a discourse with it even, I might not be able to find much difference from any fine lady at her window, in the moonlight. Ladies are known to be largely silent at these romantic moments, and in fact, were the tomato to speak while I whisper phrases and proofs of my love in its dainty, I would be more likely to be convinced of its tomatoness than I would be should it remain silent. Ladies rarely speak while at their moonlit window, but tomatoes might conduct their midnight adventures in a louder fashion. I do not know. I am not educated in this manner. Were it not for my two eyes set in my head and my fine intellect set in my brain, I might be persuaded that this tomato I hold high is none other than a fair lady.
But, by my eyes, I see she is not a lady, but a tomato. For no lady could be as quaintly squat, as brilliantly red, nor so silken as this tomato. I shall not be persuaded, therefore friends, that this tomato is a lady.
Even if you were to dress her in the finest silks, I should not be convinced, for the eyes set in my head and the fine intellect set in my brain, would lead me to other conclusions. Should you place a white veil on her head, and cover her hands with jewels, and daub her blushing neck with the finest perfume scents, I should still not be persuaded of her worth as a lady, but only of her worth as a salad ingredient.
Thus, my fair lads, do I show the invaluable value of a sturdy, steady pair of eyes set in your heads, and a fine, sharp intellect set in your brains. Watch that you are never taken for a fool by conversing in tones of love with a dressed, bejeweled tomato in the moonlight at a chamber window. Take care, lads, and do not become taken in, but pause and think first, observe, and weigh the situation, so that you may be seen as only wise and immensely clever, and not a lovesick, blind, fool. Caution, men, caution.
So, you see too, do you not, the virtue of eyes and intellect? Hehe.
Meg
Thanks Meg! Hmm, maybe I should tell her I posted this... nah! Comments? Questions? Recipies? Drop a line to gleep9@hotmail.com.
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