The onion and its natural predator.

I think I’m learning things about onions I never knew, at least in terms of how various packagers portray their product.  For one, location.  I’m finally actually thinking about where various vegetables come from.  Given certain stereotypes I learned growing up, one might suspect that Idaho merely grows potatoes.  But alas, Idaho seems rife with onion production.  Good job, Idaho, for breaking through some boundaries.

Also, that eagles want something to do with onions.  I’m assuming that something does not bode well for the onion.  The eagle represented here seems to have that poor onion in a grip with its talons, and given the way the head is bent down, as if going in for some pecking.  I typically thought eagles were birds of prey, (according to popular folklore) but hey, maybe when pickings are slim, they go vegetarian.  Onions would not be my first choice, though.

Then again, we may be going for some national pride connection.  And who doesn’t like, LOVE America?  Communists, that’s who.  But the yellow mountains and red sun do kind of throw me off a little.  Are we on planet Krypton?  Or perhaps its a representation of Jupiter, as the lines in the sphere kind of make a little red spot, like the great red storm on Jupiter.  I’m reaching here, I know.  Sometimes I try to take these images too literally.  I just sometimes find myself wanting to know why, and what the artist was thinking.  Curiosity, that’s all.

…

Some days I think about the afterlife.  I’m hoping there is one.  And that it’s a sweet one.  For example, I hope there’s a series of giant rooms like galleries, where you can wander around and see how much stuff you produced in life.  I really want to know, when my life is said and done, just how many onions I’ve cut up.  And in the gallery will be a massive mound of onions, all the onions I’ve touched, so I can see just how many that is. Or how much ketchup I’ve consumed, in a large vat.  Or beer, etc.  I think that would be awesome.