Building, dwelling, thinking

A boundary is not that at which something stops but, as the Greeks recognized, the boundary is that from which something begins its presencing.

--Jon Bon Jovi, "Ride Cowboy Ride" (1988)

Lego Cake

This was for James' sixth birthday back in, I don't know, January or something. "Hey, why are you only posting about it now?" Well, look, it's just been a crazy year, okay? "So is blogging about children's party cakes no longer a priority in your life?" Hey, let's just, shut up, okay? Let's just do this.

It's a Lego cake, obviously. If memory serves, each block had three layers: chocolate-vanilla-chocolate, with chocolate buttercream between the layers and around the sides, and then rolled fondant on all the surfaces.

I usually use a ganache to get the sides really smooth and flat before I lay on the fondant, but I think I skipped that step this time around so the cake wouldn't be too heavy. As a result, the edges aren't nearly as sharp as I would have liked them to be. This is a cake that, quite frankly, does not stand up to close scrutiny, which bothers me. The kids at the party didn't seem to mind, though. Bunch of philistines.

The Legos on top were our present for James. In case you haven't kept up with recent Lego trends, that's the Final Battle: the Golden Dragon set from the Ninjago series. It includes the Golden Ninja, which, depending who you ask, makes it really awesome. You can make that green ball-thing shoot out of the dragon's mouth, which is fun I guess. Honestly, though, call me an old crusty curmudgeon, but this is exactly how I feel about Ninjago:

You Better Watch Out, part ii

From the casebook of Beverly Sweet, owner and proprietor, Beverly Sweet: Cakes for all Occasions.

Part i

ii.

The cab driver is an elf: middle-aged, golden buckles on his shoes, absurd green hat, an elf. His name is Mackerel, or so says the laminated ID card posted on the back of the driver’s seat. Judging from his manner, he enjoys being an elf and doesn’t care who knows it.

“You must be just tremendously excited to be here in Santa’s kingdom!”

“Mostly I’m tired.”

“Yes, so much excitement can be positively exhausting!” He giggles. “Even after twelve years living here myself, sometimes I just can’t contain my excitement.”

“That’s nice.”

“It’s too bad you’ve missed Christmas. Santa’s kingdom is at its very most magical around Christmas time! Though of course we’re all very busy then.”

“I imagine so.”

“You might be confused about why it’s dark now.”

“I’m not.”

“Here at the North Pole, it’s dark six months of the year, all winter long.”

“Yes, I know that.”

“It’s January now, so it’s night all the time. Then, during the summer, the sun never sets! It gets low in the sky sometimes, but then it just heads right back up again! Can you believe such a thing?”

“Yes. It’s a well-known fact.” We’re off the main road now—if there is a main road—and it’s deep black outside. The car’s headlights are a pair of enormous translucent gumdrops. More whimsical than functional, they cast a pale blue aura over the falling snowflakes.

“Are all the cab drivers around here elves?”

“Oh, yes! Santa loves us all so much he reserves any profession responsible for public safety for only his very best friends!”

“That’s you elves?”

“Yes! We and Santa are ever such good friends!”

“And how often do you see your friend?”

He giggles again. “Silly down-worlder! We don’t have to see Santa to be his friends.”

“Sure, but how often do you see him?” We’ve entered a small town, two-story gingerbread buildings dim under candy cane street lamps. The elf pauses a long time, like maybe he’s finished talking.

“You might be wondering what time it is.”

“I’m not. I want to know—”

“Here so close to the North Pole, all the meridians converge. Clock time as you know it doesn’t even exist! Now what do you think about that?”

“Very nice, but what I want to know—”

“It’s every time and no time here in Santa’s kingdom!”

“So if you’ve never—”

“WE ELVES ARE SANTA’S VERY BEST FRIENDS IN THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD!” He releases the wheel and looks back over his shoulder to emphasize the point, a mistake. The taxi jumps the curb. A figure stumbles out of the darkness in front of the car. His face is visible for an instant, blue and surprised in the gumdrop headlights.

Part iii

You Better Watch Out, part i

From the casebook of Beverly Sweet, owner and proprietor, Beverly Sweet: Cakes for all Occasions

i

Everyone says that clearing immigration at the North Pole is a royal pain in the ass—worse than LAX, worse than Tel Aviv, even—but Mr. Kang’s connections must have pulled a few strings, because as soon as the elves see the name on my passport they just wave me through. Within thirty minutes of touchdown, I’m hailing a cab from the curb outside the international terminal. It’s dark out, even with all the airport lights, and I feel dirty and irritable from the flight. There’s a light snow falling, dusting the ground like confectioner’s sugar.

Part ii

Incidentally...

This is off-topic, but as far as I'm concerned, if I can't lick it, it's not art.

A Public Service

Okay, so A LOT of loyal Vanilla Gorilla readers are currently looking for work in the tertiary education sector in the Kansas City metropolitan area. As a service to those readers, we offer the following links to the human resources departments of a collection of local colleges and universities. Enjoy!

• Universityof Missouri–Kansas City.
•  Johnson County Community College.
• Metropolitan Community College.
•  Avila University.
•  Baker University.
• Graceland University.
• GranthamUniversity.
• KansasCity Kansas Community College.
• Kansas City University of Medicine and Biosciences.
• Park University.
• Rasmussen College.
• RockhurstUniversity.
• WilliamJewell College.
• KansasCity Art Institute.