Radish holds little appeal to me. Radish should be diced, braised, cooked or pickled on remote islands that remain uncharted, virgin territories to this day. This day would make a fine, robust radish dish. But because today is a Friday, absolute apathy and absolute joy negate each other. I'd write about my plunder of Vietnam, but I have radish in mind and I can't think and write and feel about anything else. My metahuman effort at a happy thought made me think of the apocalyptic extinction of radish. But, let's face it, that's still about radish.