How Do You Take Your Eggs? A Letter From An Internet Friend Across The Pond

Below is an email shared with permission. I hear there’s a tempest in a teapot with my name on it in some unspecified Substack. Well, I suppose something is benefitting from the energy generated by the emotional outrage machine. I suppose as long as I’m shining a light on Camelot 2.0 that is to be expected. This was sitting on the back burner for a few weeks, but for any new folks popping over to see what I’m about, I consider what follows a very generous endorsement of my character. Thank you Internet glitch friend.


April 2023

Dear Alison,

So on occasion I go through my phone storage and try to delete what is no longer relevant and go over stuff I’ve screen-saved in the moment b/c what ever has spoke to me, etc.

Sometimes things come back around and perhaps has more than one purpose. For example this, what I am about to share because we are all stumbling through the labyrinth of life, on our own, and collectively, is like an egg.

An egg has seemingly three separate parts that make up the whole. Do we eat the whole egg? No. We take the part that we like, the part that sustains us, discard the rest and go on our way. Do we give it a second thought? No. Was the shell useless? No. It all served a purpose for what we needed at that moment in time.

Why am I saying all this? I am making this point, because I am sick and tired of irrelevant people on the internet of space who are energy zappers. They offer nothing of substance. They aren’t even a useful shell; they’re worse. They’re like the toothpick that comes along and pokes a tiny hole in the bottom of your egg just to blow out all the nutritional content and leave this empty shell. Some might even add insult to injury and decorate the shell and call it art. Maybe that’s useful for some other people in their time and space, but imagine you were in a group of travelers who desperately relied on those eggs to sustain their bodies nutritionally so that the brain and the body could endure the long complicated journey ahead. When life was less complicated, and lives were more comfortable, predictable, perhaps even a bit boring, the idea of an empty egg with a painted shell might be more entertained. Time and place I suppose.

Or just find your lane. Don’t be a cheerleader for the shell art following a group of folks that crack their eggs right through the middle so you can scream at them for how stupid they are just discarding the shell. In your shell art world sure, the egg eaters might seem so selfish, (shell~fish lol), so careless, so unimaginably weird that they’ve learned how to best use that egg for themselves. But don’t entertain that idea, that concept, that world view. No way. Egg eaters are all about themselves. They aren’t pretty and decorated and put on display for all to put on a shelf and admire. No. Maybe the egg eaters put a few of their eggs together, added some cheddar, chillis, ham, milk, potatoes, so that more people could come together and share new recipes and enjoy the experience together. The egg eaters like to share their recipes with others who might not like that recipe but love this recipe, and so it goes.

But the egg eaters don’t like bad eggs. You know the ones. The eggs that kids might hide in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator a few months before Halloween. Yet another use for an egg. Completely deplorable for the shell decorators, unimaginable to the egg eaters, but to the mischievous energy filled youth…rotten eggs are the PERFECT accessory on Halloween night to be the miserable coup d’etat to some unsuspecting homeowner. The egg rotters, they too see their egg group as the golden egg group, scoffing at the eaters and the artisans. For the purpose of the egg rotters is to thrive in spreading misery towards others. Fortunately this group is few and far between, usually. Does it mean they don’t exist? No. We know they are there, lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce. Generally we each are aware of the other and manage to coexist naturally and maybe rarely if ever cross paths.

Well that being said… if a rotten egg happens to catch your house, sure it stinks. Yes they suck. Do they know you? Probably not. They probably just think it’s funny amongst themselves, and you are just who the flying fickle finger of fate poked that day. To the homeowner that’s worked hard to own and maintain their home, a messy smelling egg can be embarrassing and will want to wash it off immediately at move on. Egg eaters aren’t smelly rotten people so it’s a personal insult to have to now take precious time out of a normally productive and fulfilling day to have to now direct that otherwise forward moving useful energy to this stinking rotten mess. Washed off, yet the negative smell still lingers. The egg rotters have moved on from their follies. Probably haven’t given your house a second thought. It was funny for them at that moment, just that one night, your house with no constructive reason or rhyme, to pelt that egg thru the air, and in its smashed glory to laugh at the success of the aim and move on. Yes, their job is done. They move on.

The eater though wonders why. Why was my house chosen? What did I ever do to them? I don’t even have a son so who pissed them off? Why wasn’t I like my neighbours house who survived the night eggless? Why now does my beautiful house now stink? The eater doesn’t understand it because not only are the rotters the most useless users of the egg, worse, they somehow manage to use their eggs to literally drain your positive, productive most forward and proactive users of the egg people.. the rotters add zero to anyone or anything and yet that little impulse moment of theirs causes such a disruption to others. There’s no point trying to understand these mindless, boundless energetic little imps. They have all this energy to run around destroying things, because they don’t have to think constructively about their actions. They don’t have a creation of their own to show for. They don’t have pride in their project that they can show to others in a year, in two years, in five years etc.. Their destruction is done. After their small group has had their smash and laugh, that’s it. They’re done. Their lives are pointless and maybe they wish they could be like the egg eaters. To have something they could be proud of. A community that grows painstakingly slow, but eventually flourishes beautifully. Day after day, month after month, the egg eaters grow into a group, then a community and hopefully someday a movement. Not everyone understands what the eaters’ purpose is exactly, but being a part of it feels good.

Wanting to join in the community feels purposeful. Maybe individually eaters don’t have all the recipes, maybe the eaters don’t have all the ingredients. Sometimes we don’t even know if we like eating our egg in a new and different way until we try. But we don’t even know there’s a different way to eat that egg until we stumble upon this amazing community that embraces everyone. Sure the eaters are busy with their own eggs, but on Thursday night they all gather around the community stove, crack a few eggs and relish and grow together. Thursday nights renew the community’s energy and purpose. By and large the community feels right. And it grows. For the end all be all purpose is still out there, but at least in this small community, a shared experience is being built. It’s being realised. It’s being a constant in the inconsistency of current life. Maybe it’s just another day for the eater, but for the new member eater it’s opening up a profound new world of tools and ingredients to eventually be confident enough to become creative too and then maybe even be able to also share with the community.

Who knows. I don’t. I don’t even know the first egg eater that started this community. Who is Alison? I don’t know. Who is Donald Trump? I don’t know. Who is Madonna? Who is Stew Peters or Tucker Carlson? Do I personally know any of these people? No. Do I consume their content, yes. Does that make me know them, no. Do I like everything they put out there? No, most likely not. But at some level I am able to gather enough content to sort out in my own head some type of character this person makes up. Sure that character can change over time. We all do. That doesn’t mean at this time because they were this that now they can’t be that. That’s stupid and ridiculous. We are all constantly changing. Hopefully for the better. So as long as that persons’ character whose content I am consuming is seemingly aligning with my personal path, journey through the labyrinth, is resonating my life, opening up my mind, then yes, for that moment, oh yeah I know who Alison is….

She’s that nutty keyboard brainiac in Philly with a husband and a kid and a small house and a huge library. She reads a lot, she talks a lot, she’s super intelligent, but she probably doesn’t realise her own value as it’s just her. She doesn’t go around trying to force people to listen to her or join her dandelion club. Pay to hear this magical opinion…nope. She’s like, hey, there’s a hole in this boat we are all occupying right now and if we put our heads together maybe we can fix it even though the boat is floating in the middle of the ocean and filled with people. If it doesn’t get addressed everyone in the boat is screwed. She doesn’t need praises for spotting the hole or collating various repair manuals. She just knows that fixing the problem is going to take more than just her, and she’s really grateful when someone else also sees the hole and offers to help with the solution. Does that make Alison now somehow eternally tied in gratitude for that individual that came along side to help, no. Sometimes is okay just to appreciate that this person has come across your path for a reason maybe the reason is for yourself or it’s for them. Who knows? I don’t know.

I don’t even know who Alison is. I will probably never ever meet her in real life. If I do, alright, cool, that means the world didn’t end. LoL . Whatever. Am I a brainiac just like her? Ha! Not even close. I do know what stupid is, and I’m not that either. I can however imho feel like I can gather who their character is…or what makes up the value of their character. Am I a mom? Yes. Okay, I can relate. Did I graduate college, yes, okay I can relate. Am I looking for answers to an unknown question or questions? Boom! Do I know who Alison is? No, but I really like her character. What she puts out makes sense to me. What she says has immeasurable value, to me. What she has said in the past is STILL TRUE and still of value…to me. Would we be friends in real life if I lived down her street? Maybe. Best friends, probably not. I respect her. I admire her ability to carry this proverbial torch that we all enjoy the benefit of… Is she replaceable? Probably. But she’s grown on me. And if I just respect and value what this Alison character puts out there I can say yes, I know who Alison is and she’s my friend. She’s one of a kind, unique, qwirky yet stable. She does not make up or spread rumours or lies. Indeed the polar opposite. She lights up when discussing facts and building the base file of totally relevant pieces that need to come together so everyone can see the whole picture.

Can she be attacked just because she’s there, sure. Does it hurt? You bet. Was there a point to that? Idk, maybe. But now that rotten egg has made this ripple, an after shock if you will to the rest of us in the community who actually do value this Alison character. Her tappity tap tapping keyboard in the background of board meetings as her questions rage onto her targets that do their very best to make so much noise, say so many words yet answer nothing. See, this is why I like Alison. This is why I respect and value this Alison character, and it seriously pisses me the fuck off when miserable negative parasite losers take aim her. It is not her responsibility to be everyone’s mom just because she is a mom. Nor does she have to validate herself or worth to each and every one of you. Like the rest of us you either can see from a mile away (or across the pond) that this Alison person is super bright, maybe if I pay attention I can learn something from her that in turn will help me too! Or since she can’t stop her life and coddle my shallow empty invisible spec internet personality then I’ll just throw my rotten egg guts at her. Because I can’t be her, I can just ruin all the good she’s doing. But that ripple rolls out doesn’t it. And after so many ripples it’s easy to question why even bother? This is so much work, so much energy. Sure I opted to do it because I was interested, then I realised it was important to share, I thought what I was doing was benevolent and being a positive value in the lurking panopticon assembly of doom… Yes, your negative (albeit shallow pointless keyboard stabs) remarks hurt and after enough of them cause a pause and question why do I even bother.

Well I’ll tell you why, because to loads of anonymous people out there that happen across your content actually do appreciate you. There are those of us scattered across the big floating globe of billions of people-ants that catch that faint pheromone hit and say wait a minute, hold up, there is something familiar and comforting about this scent. And so it is. A few years ago I began my search for answers to the crazy phenomenon that had taken the world by surprise. I knew enough to know it was bullshit even if I couldn’t articulate exactly why. But I knew. Now then in my drive to gather the words to validate and articulate my story I’m having to learn loads of information, people and names, concepts, ideas, facts and opinions. Are there hard answers, yes. Did I find them? No. But I sorted my own path in a way in which made the most sense to me and that’s what matters.

So to make a long story longer – and I’m so sorry, I just thought you might like to hear why you matter or why people even bother listening to you or whatever. It’s just me, your random internet content consumer letting you in on why you matter… to me. To my story. What makes you, YOU in my story and why I find you compelling and valid. By the way this has happened with you on my phone not just this once, but a few times. So much so that I’m like whatever, she’s not exactly lights and whistles or an entertaining production. To appreciate Alison is to tune into her broadcasts, pay attention, hell, here’s a concept-take notes. Go back and re-listen (which I usually have to do with your stuff) try and grasp what is being said, shared, made perfectly available to your very fingertips with ease, because that is what Alison does. It’s like the concert violinist in the subway station. People dismiss the beauty and value of the melody because it’s being shared out of the love and joy of the music. Not being ‘stingy’ or shared ‘narcissistically’ at £1,000.00 /seat to hear me play. People create concrete paths and demand you must make yourself miserable too. It’s how it is you know. My life’s story says life must be hard must be complicated must be difficult so I command you to do the same. What-Ev-Errrr.

Soooooo going back to my phone storage, playing sound bytes I deemed to have value, I get a chuckle like yep, this is why I like this Alison character b/c time and time again I get the first clip and I’m like wait, what? What am I suppose to do with that? What’s that suppose to mean for me or to me? Wtf am I watching this shit for if I’m left feeling out ragged and filled with unanswered questions? Why tf do I bother?! Ugh! Then seriously, 12 hours later, oh here’s that Alison character. I’m never quite sure what she’s on about but she is on to something though. At least she provokes me to think. At least she gives me a direction to look or search or dig. But sometimes, sometimes you get lucky and she just gives you the answer in plain sight. She doesn’t even know you’re looking for it. But she does give you the answers. I think people are too busy making their own life more complicated that they don’t take the time to see it’s right there. So here, let me share, because you can enjoy this and know that the work and reach you put out there in the internet abyss is landing on some pretty decent minds.

Literally look at the meta-data screenshots- it was about two years ago, yeah, and literally 12 hours apart…. This still amuses me to this day, and now I hope you get a kick out of it too. Your blast from my past LoL… You know I think I’m going to put them in another email b/c it screws up my phone. 


Cheers from the expat American across the pond. Thank you for being you – whoever you are 😜.

Sincerely, your random anonymous internet friend or not or glitch or whatever.


My reply: 

Oh my. I’m tickled. What an image you weave with the eggs! Did you know I eat a lot of eggs? We get a dozen in our farm box every week. Two poached on sauteed greens with garlic is my current fave (bring the water in the pan to a rolling boil, drop in a good splash of vinegar, then crack two eggs directly into the water, turn down the heat a bit, after a few minutes scoop each one out with a slotted spoon, and place on a towel to dab them dry, serve over greens with pepper). It would be nice to meet in person. I’m sure we would enjoy one another’s company. Given all the effort, would you like to share this with a broader audience on the blog? It’s fine either way. I do appreciate the time you took to lay out your thoughts and include me in your thinking. We are growing a little community, aren’t we?


I ran out of greens, but homemade bread toasted works well, too.

2 thoughts on “How Do You Take Your Eggs? A Letter From An Internet Friend Across The Pond

  1. zrpradyer says:

    Hello friends,
    Just a very quick but appreciative response.
    I thoroughly enjoyed reading this essay and can totally relate – thank you.
    And for all those who have nothing to say but can’t stop themselves from sharing – aren’t we an entertaining species? Separating the wheat from the chaff – and more often than not, treasuring the chaff. But, we stumble on.
    Thank you again and thanks for the recipe!

  2. washington sean says:

    I read this post yesterday morning and you could say it was “eggsaxctly” what I needed to read. Well done!

    As as a farmer (and similar lover of the egg analogy) I find myself wanting to share a couple things:

    1. we stopped discarding our shells several years ago. They make a wonderful addition when you plant peppers or tomatoes as I am fond of crumpling up the shells and placing them directly under the root ball for an entire season of calcium supply. This season I am also excited to use the shells to make a “water soluble calcium” spray as part of the Korean Natural Farming techniques I am studying.

    2. As there are good eggs, boiled eggs, salted eggs, poached eggs, scrambled eggs and so many other valuable types of eggs, and of course the rotten eggs, the discarded eggs that sit and fester and remain unnoticed until one day they explode and wreak havoc… I considered also, where is that damn Goose during all of this? Goose, chicken, Duck… pick your favorite poultry… as we contemplate the ‘which came first — the chicken or the egg’ analogy in a new light. We are all Eggs and I might suggest it is the Goose that is The State. The State lays the eggs and sits on some and leaves others alone. The State revels in the way the eggs boil and ferment amongst themselves. The State assumes us all the same… good eggs in this nest, bad eggs over here. For the State (The Goose) surely keeps the Golden Eggs, first and foremost, for itself, does it not?

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