Food Flash: Monovore Diet

We’ve covered a lot of fad diets here at NHT, but it’s been awhile since we made the switch to paleo, and lots of people have heard of it and/or are doing it so it’s probably time to do something extremely different. After much thought we recommend becoming a monovore. What’s a monovore you ask? Never heard of it? Well that’s because we literally just made it up. Perfect.

It’s a simple concept really, you just pick a single food item and eat only that. Ever. It’s a great diet for NOW because people really admire strict diets that don’t allow for any incongruity. Now before you pick your one food … no cheating. You can’t say pizza or burritos because they are an amalgam of ingredients. It’s important that it is just one thing, even spice additions like the mainstays salt and pepper are off limits (unless you choose one of them as your only food source, but that will probably kill you in within a couple of days). I’m not going to limit your imagination by narrowing down just one suggestion (mine would be local, organic, grass fed, certified angus top-sirloin, medium rare, grilled), I invite you to be creative. A word of caution though, if you go with something with a lot of tannins you may physically take on the color of your food. I’m not a scientist, but I can say with relative certainty that in addition to being extremely gassy and generally unapproachable you will undoubtedly turn green if you only eat broccoli. If you dare select onions or any member of the allium family like the uber-hot leek you are either a complete fool or a hipster beyond even my soothsaying.

Just imagine the looks on your friend’s faces at the farmers market when they see you load two reclaimed pallets full of avocados into your Subaru. “What are you doing with all of those avocados?” Look at them quizzingly, and a bit disappointed. “I’m going to eat them.” Pause for effect. “Only them.” Their jaws will be on the floor. Within seconds the questions will come firing in from all sides (which you’ll love) … “Won’t you get sick?” “Can you do that?” “Don’t you miss ice cream?” “Will you actually die?” Awesome. Now you get to drone on for about 37 minutes about “the dangers of combining too many food resources into variety” and “your need to re-connect with the avocado.” As always, if you follow our tried and true suggestions you’ll be on the fast track to elite hipsterdom. A word of caution though, avoid any lame processed foods as your monochoice, as that is completely impossible, even if you don’t know why.

Foot in Mouth: Toe Shoes


The makers of the those stupid five-toed freakshow shoes, (you know the ones that your anthropologist friend Cedric likes to wear when he’s “dancing about his problems” in his commune’s barn loft), have a little problem. A problem of the class-action variety.

They wrongly made claims about the “health benefits” of their foot-gloves. We saw this running up a mile away as those things were OVER before the plastic on first one ever made cooled. Now, this conversely flies in the face of toe socks which for some strange reason are trending up right now.

Pumping Up: Returning Fossil Fuels

Take it back from them!
Take it back from them!

They just won’t listen. Your cobbler Milo, your barber Henry, random normals in line at the co-op … none of them REALLY care about the environment like you do. They take the easy way out. They use cars, electricity, and indoor plumbing. Sell outs. You’ve tried convincing them that they are destroying “our spaceship Earth” until blue in the face. You’ve tried leading by example and demonstrating your devotion to “your Earth mother” with projects like pedal-powered RVs, rescuing ditch trees, and even scything your lawn. But alas, they still hop in their gas guzzling Prius’s and claim to be hypermiling their way to and from the local organic fair trade farmer’s market. It’s time to take matters into our own hands. Let’s put fossil fuels back where they came from!

As with most extreme eco-warrioring, it’s best to work at night, when the normals are all in deep sleep with visions of oil wells dancing in their stupid polluting heads. Sneak into a parking lot with several free-cycled pickle buckets from Burger King and an up-cyled garden hose. Move fast and start siphoning! You will probably get a headache from the fumes around car 37, so have some organic healing herbs at ready in your messenger bag. A ritually blessed (preferably Wiccan) amalgam of white willow bark, bay laurel, and calamus root should do the trick. Any fume-induced hallucinations are a bonus as they will aid in your spiritual journey, just don’t listen to the voices if they tell you to stab anything/one. You will need to make several trips on your fixed gear bike so you’re in for a long night. Make sure your dump location isn’t too close to any major aquifers and have a deep hole ready. Smile smugly as you pour the reclaimed gasoline back where it belongs, in the earth. Pour slowly so the the soil fully absorbs its native nutrients, listen for the satisfied sigh as the earth drinks deep. The only problem with this being a clandestine operation is people can’t (and shouldn’t) see you doing it. How can you talk about it if nobody notices you? The way to work around that little glitch is to look really tired and smell like gas so people ask you about it. Neither of these should require much effort because you just literally stayed up all night siphoning and transporting gasoline. Drag yourself into the artisan coffee shop in the morning. “Oh, the gas smell? Why do I look so tired? Yeah, I’ve been doing what we all should be doing, putting gasoline back where it should be. After all, what’s better than being carbon neutral? How about being carbon negative?” Flora, the barista you have a crush on, will swoon.

Don’t stop here. Oil isn’t the only thing we disgusting “smart apes” rape from “our maiden Earth sprite.” What about that huge coal pile by the docks? They plan to burn it up in their giant power plants to do things like power their idiot boxes and electric toothbrushes. Oh nooo, they can’t be bothered to miss a single effing episode of “Dancing with the Stars!” And as if smearing baking soda all over their teeth with their fingers like you do isn’t “clean” enough. They’d rather line the pockets of Mr. and Mrs. Colgate whilst poisoning themselves with fluoride! Covetous self-indulgent boobs! Ahem. But I digress. The coal re-insertion is a bit trickier than gas as ideally you would return it to its origin in random Montana mines. That’s a lot of pedaling so you can probably get away with just stuffing the coal under roadway culverts. That’s underground right? Pretty much the same thing as a mine. Good enough. The important thing is you’ll be keeping the coal out of the grubby little hands of industrialist profiteers who want to burn it only to waste it by providing heat and electricity to countless people at the expense of “Mother Goddess Terra.”

A few other quick ideas include un-fracking. I’m not sure what fracking is, but I do know that the opposite of it is hella hip right now. Do some of your own research (always hot) and find out just what the hell fracking is and try to undo it. You could also sneak into the backyards and patios of the normal legions and free the propane tanks from the prison of their meat scorching grills. This is a one-two punch because people eat way too much meat, especially mass-produced non-free-range hormone-laden cruelty-full meat. Find a swamp somewhere and shove the nozzle deep into the muck, open the valve and send that propane home. Natural gas lines are easy, just locate them and sever them with a borrowed backhoe.

Alright, some of you are more hardcore than others and I don’t want to stifle any enthusiasm. I have no idea how to pull this one off, but if you can figure out a way to reverse the flow of all of the major oil pipelines in the world please do! Another extreme idea would be to initialize a worldwide grassroots uprising, using mostly peaceful demonstrations and sit-ins (always hot). In the meantime us longer brimmed hipsters will be doing what we can in the smaller ways I’ve outlined, even if we don’t know why.

Hear Ye to Stay: Town-Criering

towncrier3asAs hipsters well know, teh social mediaz are the dominant way to get messages out these days. Well, before the facebooks and the twitterverse and the google+ and instagrams and the tumblrs how did people feed their narcissistic needs? You got it, by Town Criering. Originally officers of the court, tasked with making legal announcements to the mostly illiterate townsfolk, the town crier was an essential part of daily life. Also called a “bellman” (do not make the mistake of EVER asking a crier to haul your bags to your room, nothing hurts more than getting clocked with a brass handbell.) Town criers strode up and down the streets of the town announcing all manner of news, advertisements, market days and such.

In the German town of Goslar, the crier informed the citizens to refrain from using the local river as a bathroom on days when the brewery was collecting water for the local beer.

 Kinda makes your piddly job in analytics seem trivial now doesn’t it? Town criering is the ultimate in social media throwback, so retro that no one else on pintrest has even thought of it yet, perfect. Pursuing town criering NOW will give you a chance to draw several breaking hipster trends into one obscure and noticeable activity, you’ll love this.

First and foremost, a good town crier needs a bell. Of course no ordinary bell will do, walking around tinkling some anemic peace chimes or yoga harmony jingles will only undermine the importance of what you’re criering. You need a solid bell of note and nothing says PAY ATTENTION like a Schulmerich. They claim to be “the world’s largest and oldest existing manufacturer of handbells in the United States.” This is a perfectly ironic and confusing, and all we know is that, swinging that bright brass monster in the crisp dawn light, you’ll be the envy of all your hand-bell choir hipster friends. Next, the always important attire. A Tricorne hat (which we are emphatically stating will be THE next hipster hat), knickers and possible Ben Franklin glasses, holy hell this is epic hipster gold in the making! Why didn’t we think of this before!?

Once you’re all rigged up, the next thing is to get out there and do it! If you live in close proximity to other hipsters, we suggest the ol’ crack-o-dawn strategy. After a late night of drinking endless craft ciders and listening to high decibel circuit bent experimental electronica, nothing says “hi how are ya” like standing in the courtyard of the old button factory (now hipster condos) and stoutly ringing a huge hand bell reading hashtags from twitter and facebook. The classic town crier call starts with “OYEZ, OYEZ!” Then launch into a 37 minute regurgitation of everyone’s most self-obsessed postings from the night before. Use the most olde-englishy type accent you can muster.


Remember, you have big shoes to fill, modern town criers hold the Guinness world records for the loudest humans, reaching 114 decibels so step it up! You’ll have lots of new admirers and after a week of doing this, maybe … just maybe they’ll all start to think twice before posting needless dribble.

Sprouting: Rescuing ditch trees

Somebody's gotta do it.
Somebody’s gotta do it.
Look, everybody has been all about “saving the earth” since the first earth day, 43 years ago. Who hasn’t planted a tree on earth day? Who doesn’t recycle? Let’s face it, preserving the health of our home planet has become so mainstream that even republicans are using reusable grocery bags. Lame. It’s time to take it to the next level and let everyone know that you care more about the earth then them! Get out there and start rescuing ditch trees!

The highway department murders millions (billions?) of trees every year with their giant brush mowers (they call the trees “brush” to desensitize us). When we protest they remind us patiently that we need the ditches to be clear so people can see and wildlife doesn’t surprise us. Since the slaughter is inevitable you need to relocate as many of the brave saplings as possible, and you need to do it fast. You don’t want that Indian dude who was actually an Italian dude to start bawling beyond the grave.

Start with snacks. No seriously, you’re going to be out there all day in the sun and you’re going to need something to eat that doesn’t take up much rescuing time. I recommend the classic GORP. Please make sure that you assemble your trail mix from local, organic, freegan sources. If you don’t happen to have a local peanut farm, raisin plantation, or M&M factory don’t fret. You can always bring along what ever regional crop is in season. Today I’ll be snacking entirely on raw garlic and onions with a side of sprouted bulger salad.

Next up, attire. Wear something light and airy that will also protect you from the sun. Prison jumpsuits are coincidentally the best possible ditch-work clothes, but don’t expect a lift.

Finally, you’ll need a shovel. Never call it a shovel though, call it a spade. When people don’t understand what you mean when you say spade you can remark snidely “I’ve gotta call a spade a spade.” Ideally you will smith your own spade from iron that you have personally smelted, but if you don’t have time try to find a local artisan smith and pay handsomely for a spade fit for a king. Have the smith inlay the name of the fine tool, Yggdrasil, in homage to the great tree of legend.

All that’s left to do now is hit the ditches hard with lust for rescue. Don’t just save the maples and oaks, rescue “lesser” trees like alders and willows with equal passion. Relocate them out of the ditches an onto neighborhood lawns. In the event that some normal comes storming out of their domicile asking you what the hell you’re doing tell them flatly that you’re “saving the effing earth, somebody’s got to.” If they have a problem with that your prison jumpsuit should be enough to dissuade them from attacking you. If you accidentally hit any telecommunications lines just carry on like nothing happened. These sheeple should already be no-phoning anyway. You’re doing solid work my friends, between this, helping honeybees, and all of the other amazing stuff we have you doing we’ve really got a shot at the earth being habitable for at least another 37 years!

Tomorrow: Writing with a Quill

The ballpoint pen is OVER!
The ballpoint pen is OVER!

Imagine this, you arrive slightly late to the marketing meeting. Everyone looks up from their tablets, notebooks, and smartphones only to see you patiently preparing your work area. First, extract a curious bottle filled with a brown substance from your canvas rucksack. Next, pull out a small knife (I’ll explain in a moment). Then, some very old-timey looking parchment. And finally, the pièce de résistance, your hand-fashioned quill!

Your co-workers will marvel at your crude writing implement as they gaze at the large swan-feather with wonderment. Then the questions will start pouring in, which you’ll love. As you examine the tip of your quill and begin to shape it with your quill knife you can answer them dismissively. “Yes, it’s a quill, it’s from the primary left flight feather of a female trumpeter swan that lost it in her annual moult.” As the onslaught of questions continue you can carefully uncork your jar of cuttlefish ink and dip the quill liberally. Scribe the date in the upper right hand corner of the parchment in your best calligraphy. If there is any actual marketing discussed at tomorrow’s meeting, despite the enormous distraction your quill will provide, you can write meticulous notes. As you finish each page roll the parchment and affix it with your own wax seal. If you are in a haughty mood, use the tip of your quill to gesture at your co-workers, nothing is more demeaning than being put in one’s place with a feather.

There are all kinds of reasons this trend is emerging. As you should know by now, hipsters are all about doing something BEFORE anyone else is doing it. Well I’ll have you know that the quill was used BEFORE the invention of the dip pen, the metal-nibbed pen, the fountain pen, and, eventually, the ballpoint pen. It’s five generations back! Perfect! The ink alone will provide you with at least 37 minutes of dialogue on the rarity and difficulty of extracting cuttlefish ink and the importance of their brown ink vs. the black of octopus and the blue-black of the common squid. Also, as they thumb away on their lame iPad you can tell people that quill pens were used to write the vast majority of medieval manuscripts, the Magna Carta, and the Declaration of Independence.

Don’t just buy a lame Harry Potter writing quill on Amazon , find your own. It will give you an excuse to go on a hike and commune with nature (always hot). Get on this one tomorrow, because it won’t be long until you see that one dude named Kevin using a quill at Starbucks to write haikus.