By Daniel Rigney
A venerable custom in Chinese-American restaurants is to complete a meal by cracking open a crisp and oddly-shaped cookie and examining its paper entrails for signs, portents, and words of wisdom.
Fortune cookie messages are typically upbeat and uplifting. “You see the best in others, and they in you.” “A great fortune will arrive unexpectedly.” “You will live to enjoy many more fortune cookies.”
Positive. Positive. Positive.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing against compulsively positive thinking. It’s a lot more pleasant than honest thinking, at least in the short run. But surely there’s an alternative universe somewhere in which fortune cookies bring us messages we don’t really want to hear. Cookies with a lower sugar content. Cookies with a bit of a bite. Cookies that remind us the world is both sweet and sour. Both yin and yang.
Call them misfortune cookies.
So imagine we’re sitting around the table after dinner in this alternative world. We’re cracking open our misfortune cookies. Let’s go around the table and read our messages aloud.
“An inheritance you were counting on will be gambled away in Vegas.” “Tip generously, or misfortune may follow you all the days of your life.”
“We are surrounded by people who are pretending to like us.”
“Happiness is stalking you.”
“Avoid mirrors.”
“Romance is for people younger than you are.”
“Business success will be yours in some future incarnation.”
“It’s too late now. You should have thought of that earlier.”
“We think we know much more than we really do.”
“Worrying about your health will only shorten your life.”
“People who eat here almost never get food poisoning.”
“You should have ordered the Kung Pao.”
What does your misfortune cookie say?
Danagram
A venerable custom in Chinese-American restaurants is to complete a meal by cracking open a crisp and oddly-shaped cookie and examining its paper entrails for signs, portents, and words of wisdom.
Fortune cookie messages are typically upbeat and uplifting. “You see the best in others, and they in you.” “A great fortune will arrive unexpectedly.” “You will live to enjoy many more fortune cookies.”
Positive. Positive. Positive.
Don’t get me wrong. I’ve got nothing against compulsively positive thinking. It’s a lot more pleasant than honest thinking, at least in the short run. But surely there’s an alternative universe somewhere in which fortune cookies bring us messages we don’t really want to hear. Cookies with a lower sugar content. Cookies with a bit of a bite. Cookies that remind us the world is both sweet and sour. Both yin and yang.
Call them misfortune cookies.
So imagine we’re sitting around the table after dinner in this alternative world. We’re cracking open our misfortune cookies. Let’s go around the table and read our messages aloud.
“An inheritance you were counting on will be gambled away in Vegas.” “Tip generously, or misfortune may follow you all the days of your life.”
“We are surrounded by people who are pretending to like us.”
“Happiness is stalking you.”
“Avoid mirrors.”
“Romance is for people younger than you are.”
“Business success will be yours in some future incarnation.”
“It’s too late now. You should have thought of that earlier.”
“We think we know much more than we really do.”
“Worrying about your health will only shorten your life.”
“People who eat here almost never get food poisoning.”
“You should have ordered the Kung Pao.”
What does your misfortune cookie say?
Danagram
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