A Waffle House at three in the morning. I ordered hash browns. The waitress, Charlene, turned toward the kitchen and shouted.
"Scattered, smothered, covered!"
I rose from my stool.
These were battle commands. Shouted across a room, fast, in code, the way a captain calls a line into position. Something was happening. I prepared myself.
"Who is under attack?" I asked.
Charlene turned back. "Huh? Oh. That's just your hash browns, baby."
I sat back down slowly. "...The potatoes have their own commands?"
"Mhm. Scattered means on the grill. Smothered's onions. Covered's cheese."
"And there are more?"
She counted them off without looking at a menu. "Chunked is ham. Diced is tomato. Peppered's jalapeños. Capped's mushrooms. Topped's chili. Country's sausage gravy."
I was silent for a moment. Nine words. Nine fates, for one potato.
In my homeland, a man earns a name through a lifetime of deeds. Here, a hash brown can earn nine in a single night. I had badly underestimated this country.
"I want all of them," I said. "Every word. The potato has earned them."
"...You want it all the way?"
"All the way. To give it fewer would be an insult."
Charlene shouted the whole thing back into the kitchen, the full litany, and the cook answered without turning around, and I stood again and bowed to him, sergeant to sergeant. He did not see it. It did not matter. I knew.
It came buried. Onions, cheese, ham, tomato, peppers, mushrooms, chili, gravy. You could barely find the potato underneath, which seemed correct, because by then the potato was no longer a side dish. It was a decorated soldier.
I ate the whole thing with a fork in both fists. It was hot and filthy and magnificent. I have eaten in palaces. I have never eaten anything that was honored this thoroughly.
So tell me, America.
You can shout the same potato into nine different lives.
Who wrote this language, and where can a foreigner learn it?
And the cook who answers in code at three in the morning. Is that a kitchen, or a war room?
I went to In-N-Out and ordered a cheeseburger. The cashier, a calm young woman named Destiny, asked me a question I did not expect.
"You want that Animal Style?"
I paused.
I did not know what this meant. But a samurai does not admit he does not know. So I answered with weight.
"...Animal Style."
"Cool. So that's mustard-grilled, extra spread, grilled onions, pickles. Yeah?"
I understood now. This was a sacred permission. For one meal, I was being told to put down my manners at the door. To eat the way a beast eats, without shame. I had waited my whole life for someone to give me this order.
"Yes," I said. "I will become the animal."
Destiny did not blink. "...Okay. You want your fries Animal Style too?"
I stopped. Even the potatoes?
"The potatoes also become animals?"
"I mean, they get cheese and sauce and grilled onions, so..."
"Then yes. Let the potatoes abandon their restraint as well."
"...Got it." She was the calmest woman I have ever met. "3x3, 4x4, or just the one?"
I did not know these numbers, but I knew a challenge when I heard one. "How many must I face?"
"It's, like, how many patties you want."
"How many is the most honorable?"
"...Four is a lot."
"Then four. A warrior does not ask for fewer."
She wrote it down without argument. A 4x4, Animal Style, with animal fries. She warned me once, kindly. "That's gonna be huge." I told her I was counting on it.
It arrived. It was a tower. Cheese and sauce ran down my hands the moment I lifted it. There was no clean way to eat it. There was no dignified way. That was the entire point.
I ate it like a beast. Both hands, no honor, grilled onion on my chin, and I have to be honest with you, it was the best thing I have ever put in my mouth.
For thirty years I have kept my manners at every table in the world.
They handed me a burger and told me to be an animal, and I have never felt so free.
So tell me, America.
The whole country knows the secret menu. What else are you hiding in plain sight?
And "Animal Style." Was I eating the animal, or finally becoming one?
Navy seal material?
I love how the older one looks straight at the security camera then picks up the fold up steps taking the evidence with him ..😂❤️❤️❤️
Hi, everybody.
I’m pleased to let you know that we’re going to release a lecture a week from my extensive tour archive, beginning this Sunday and then repeating every Sunday after that.
This allows me to do something interesting and useful while I’m otherwise incapacitated. My health is such at the moment that I can’t really return to podcasting or public lecturing. But we recorded these with the express intention of preparing them for release, and we’ve all determined that this is a very good time to do that.
So that’s what’s going to happen.
I hope you find them useful and compelling. They’ll be particularly attractive to those of you who liked my early YouTube work that was very lecture focused. It’s a return to my roots, I suppose, in some ways. And I’m as happy as I can be under the current circumstances, given my ill health, to be participating in this process and to have these lectures prepared for release.
Thanks a lot for your continued attention and support.
- Dr. Jordan B. Peterson
America's spirit is alive and well! This young man is blown away by the patriotism he sees everywhere... American flags flying high!
Keep that red, white and blue energy going strong folks! 💪🇺🇸🔥
🚨 WOW! Team USA stops to PRAY after their 2-0 victory over Australia in the World Cup
America is a Christian nation! 🙏🏻
These patriots are making their country proud on their home turf! 🇺🇸
People in Britain keep messaging me.
They want me to post something.
They cannot post it themselves.
Not because they are wrong.
Because in their country, being right about the wrong topic can end your job, your reputation, your freedom.
So they ask a Japanese account to say it instead.
That is not a small thing.
That is what a country looks like when free speech is already gone.