A good fortune is something like this:
It doesn't say a heck of a lot, but it meets its intended function by providing some hope for the future.
So why, when the item is called a FORTUNE cookie, have I been getting so many like:
What kind of rubbish is that? That's not a fortune, that's a phrase. One that surely we've all been badgered by our parents with at some stage when giving up on a musical instrument or sport as a child. One does not require this kind of nagging after enjoying a good meal.
As I had grown increasingly disappointed with the lack of an actual fortune over the last few years, I decided to embark on some research for this blog which involved downing an entire box of cookies. I did it over a couple of weeks, and despite the disappointing fortunes, I am happy to report that the box was only $1 at Big Lots and that each cookie contains only 15 calories. I must say, that's a convenient treat!
My research subject: "Luv Yu" fortune cookies: baked with love and few calories. YES!
So here are some good fortunes:
A kick in the pants I always need. I've had this one for ages and it's stuck on the wall at my desk.
Just when I thought things were sucking, this little note provides hope.
What a wonderful and confusing feeling this one provided, mostly because it is a lyric from "Land of Sunshine" by Faith No More, originally snatched from a personality test.
This also resides on my wall. One of the happiest fortunes I've ever received and one that continues to come true. Incredible!
Same old, but it's still a fortune.
Okay, those are all fortunes which fall into the definition of fortune. Here are more of the lame ones I've been getting which has soured me on the whole fortune delivery by cookie experience.
This isn't a fortune, but advice. There's a big difference! I don't like being told what to do by dessert.
Oh yeah? You obviously haven't seen my intellect!
Huh, *giggle*, why yes, thank-you...but that's still not a fortune. I knew that already. NEXT!
More advice, though I do like this one and follow through on it often. This one, while not a fortune, resides on my wall.
See, here's the problem. If you tell me things about the future, they can't be strongly challenged. They are the future and haven't happened yet, so who knows? If you tell people things about themselves, delivered with the randomness of which way the waiter placed the cookie plate, you, dear cookie manufacturer who is reading this, are opening yourself up for great scrutiny. While I might have an iron constitution, the great physical powers part is complete crap as I don't think there is a girl alive who can't beat me in an arm wrestle.
Crap.
When? At the moment I cracked this cookie, or always? And how the fuck did you know?
What a completely miserable time this was. You open a cookie with grand ideas about receiving fabulous, long lost Asian wisdom and are instead assaulted with rigid, capitalist ideas. What a fucking drag. What is this telling me? I should hurry up and pay my bill and hot foot it out of the restaurant to allow the next patron my table. Fuck you. Next time I get this one, I'm ordering another dessert and hanging out for another hour.
This one is kinda dirty because I found it on the floor of the car in the middle of my research. No doubt I brought it into the car, because I'm the only one in the household stupid enough to save fortunes. I must have figured I was one of those rare souls who likes to laugh and have a good time and couldn't get over the foresight of the cookie to find me, so I kept it.
What the hell? This is way too specific and has little chance of succeeding and it did not! I love two sports, Aussie Rules football and baseball, but I care not at all for horses and have gambled less than $50 in my life...I guess if DID say "...but not in excess." Hmmmm.
Fortune cookies are supposed to provide some advice and hope for the future nestled neatly and reassuringly in a tasty baked treat, not immediately disillusion us before the digestive process has even begun.
