Any bibliophile can tell you that half the pleasure of a well-curated bookshelf is in the sorting.

Sarah Rose Sharp, Hyperallergic, February, 14, 2019

This is true. There’s a whole table in the Living Room dedicated to books which I have cleaned, wondered why I had placed them in such & such a location, and put on the table awaiting replacement on another shelf.

That’s the first sentence, by the way. It’s downhill from there. Witness this sorting technique:

Mr. Big Food owns a 10-gallon pot– he typically uses it on the propane turkey frier to make a shrimp boil for a crowd– and I’ll bet the gumbo pot comes in at four- to five-gallons or so. And I suppose we are not the only ones who have big pots. But I’d also suppose that those of us who do own big pots cook in a different manner than, say the folks who participated in the “Added Value” project at the SFMOMA. Set that aside. Five gallons of water, boiling or not, weighs (does math in head) 40 pounds + the weight of the pot and lid. I am an able-bodied person, and although I can carry a malleable 40-pound bag of cow manure, I doubt that I could carry this pot of boiling water.

But the bigger question is this. Under what circumstances would I need to?

Boiling water is usually not an end in and of itself. It is a means to an end. Five gallons of Southern Sweet Tea for a crowd. A lot of boiled shrimp. Wash day if you’re off the grid. So having boiled the five gallons of water on the stove, you next put something into it– and then later take that something out of it.

What, exactly, is the recipe that includes the instruction, “carry five-gallon pot of boiling water?”

I could have seen the difficulty if it had been “fill pot with five gallons of water, bring to a boil.” Carrying a 40+ pound pot across the kitchen to the stove requires that I call Mr. Big Food.

So here we have someone writing words on a topic about which they are completely ignorant.

Further– these words are utterly demeaning to the very group about whom they are intended to make one think. Again, forget the idiotic boiling. Are we to assume that differently-abled people do not have the cognitive resources to figure their way out of this paper bag?

So, Marica. If Mr. Big Food had asked you to boil five gallons of water while he was away at work, what would you do? Well… let me think. Oh! I know! I would make two trips into the Tornado Room where our store of gallon-sized bottled waters are and empty five of them into the pot that’s already on the stove. Duh.

[T]he addition of a red sticker indicates if a book is written about a particular culture, people, and/or place — but presumes a readership not of that culture, people, and/or place (this may include histories, artistic forms, travel, cooking, and romance).

That’s some pretty crummy writing right there. Whatever. Remind me to buy a few cartons of red stickers next time I’m in town. I have sorting to do.

What idiocy.