Taste the Self-Obsessed.
It’s a strange thing to read George Orwell’s blog.
8.12.38
Two eggs.
In the morning dust-storms, then fairly heavy rain. The afternoon cold & misty, just like England.
Each post has been pulled from Orwell’s diaries and posted just as it was written seventy years ago. It seems these entries were never intended to be read by anyone else, and often record nothing more than simple happenings in Orwell’s life.
6.12.38
Two eggs.
Nights now are distinctly chilly.
Orwell writes about the seasons, about animals and plants, and about numbers of eggs.
29.11.38
One egg.
Alone, the above entry doesn’t really say much. Seen as part of a whole though, these points of information can resemble something like a personal almanac.
In this spirit, I’ve started another blog. It’s a small, simple, and silly thing to do for my own amusement (and possibly yours as well). I’m going to try to record things that I eat, starting tonight.
I will call it eatmachine.