Friday, December 9, 2022

Bill wasn't so menacing

I've only seen Kill Bill Vol. 2 once, but there's one scene that always sticks with me.

It involves David Carradine's title character cutting up a peanut butter sandwich with a large knife. You know the scene. It sticks with you too. (Kind of like peanut butter.)

But the reason it stuck with me originally is not the reason it sticks with me now. 

Originally, I thought "Wow, what a badass. Cutting a sandwich with a ginsu knife in order to assert subtle dominance and a sense of mortal threat. And telling some story about Superman." (I'm pretty sure I'm remembering that correctly. It's Tarantino so it was some story about some pop culture figure, anyway.)

Now, I think "What a practical way to cut a sandwich."

Using such a knife to cut a peanut butter sandwich once seemed like overkill. But now I have kids and I cut sandwiches five days a week.

One of my kids, the older one, wants two of the crusts cut off, leaving the other two on. I suppose they function sort of as handles once you've cut the sandwich in half, diagonally of course.

The other son, the younger one, wants no crusts, and then he wants what remains to be cut into four triangular wedges.

Just imagine trying to do this with a bread knife. 

It would require a lot more sawing. And because individual slices of bread have varying levels of thickness and structural integrity, you're starting to pull it apart with each motion back and forth. Not to mention that the contents of the sandwich create a tension with the bread that only exacerbates the stress on it, increasing the likelihood that it will fall apart.

A big, sharp knife just does the job with no fuss or muss.

Mine doesn't look like Bill's, and might not be as lethal. It's white and made of ceramic. But I've given myself nicks with it before and it's no fun.

The big difference between me and Bill is that I'm not telling my kids a story about Superman and vaguely threatening to slit their throats.

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