On the Incoherence of the Philosophers

I've finished my philosophy problem set. This is a glad thing, and will soon be celebrated with a sandwich.

I have perfected the peanut butter and jelly sandwich. If I had a camera I would document the process and describe it in great detail, but alas. Long story short, for a long time I believed that one had to choose between a hearty sandwich and a neat sandwich, since any sandwich which was neat would be under-filled, while any sufficiently hearty sandwich would be prone to leaking jelly and making messes. The solution, simple yet elegant and inspired, is to spread one slice of bread with jelly and one with peanut butter, and instead of slapping them together to make a sandwich, setting the jelly slice atop the peanut butter slice, with jelly facing upwards. This way there is never pressure on the jelly, which hence doesn't squish out. I've been warned that this method is less favorable if one slices one's sandwich post-construction, but followers of that practice are vile in the eyes of the Sandwich God.

I'm pleased with this discovery on two accounts. First, from a point of strict utility; I won't spill nearly as much jelly everywhere as I have heretofore been accustomed. But more importantly – perhaps much more importantly – I have developed a trademark. A signature style, a novel and recognizable approach to a common situation. It's surprisingly difficult – I had to transcend my notions of Sandwich and allow my mind to expand beyond what was once believed to be the extent of the possible. But a trademark – that's valuable beyond words. Anyone can be creative in an unprecedented situation, but it takes an individual of substance to do something new where routine is the the norm, and the norm is simply routine.

"Devon? You mean the sandwich guy?"