Today, I ate a pomegranate.
It was a rather good one. At the very least, it wasn't a bad one. It was sour, of course; no decent Pomegranate would dare do something so gauche as to be saccharine. So, as such, this Pomegranate did not disgrace the family name. Not that it was completely sour, of course. If it were, it'd be completely unpalatable, at least for me. No, this pomegranate was a fine mix of tartness and that something pomegranate-y that makes pomegranates pomegranates.
Not all of the seeds were eaten, though. Something about chewing at pomegranate seeds fools the stomach into thinking it's quite full. I briefly contemplated making pomegranate ink, but couldn't find a recipe sufficiently trouble-free, and so nixed the idea. I didn't have enough seeds left for that anyways.
So there I sat, at my desk, eating pomegranate and reading this book. I contemplated the possibly symbolism in the act. Was my time spent on Goodreads like my eating of the pomegranate: a lot of work for very little result? Not only that, but I'd be sick of it and thus unable to finish?
That seemed, of course, a weak connection at best, and I instead thought of Persephone. The book did mention Hydra, after all, and they're both related to Greek Mythology. The connection there seemed even more tenuous, and so I was forced to conclude that perhaps my eating the pomegranate was merely because I saw it sitting on my desk and though "well, I might as well eat it now."
I was rather sad my pomegranate had no correlation with this book whatsoever other than the fact that I happened to have been eating it as I was scrolling through pages of the pdf.
This book brings up some points that are, of course, fascinating. Admittedly, I have yet to have any GR policy changes affect me directly, although my pomegranate anecdote may find itself on GR's blacklist (it's relevant; I swear. Look, I tied it into the subject matter the book was covering). I never really followed up on all of the drama going on, so some of the stuff was a little beyond me. I did rather like the anecdotes, though, just in and of themselves.