I Ate a Mysterious Himalayan Superfood and Now Everyone Has a Clock Counting Down Over Their Heads
My life is so hectic that I need all my nutrients crammed into me as efficiently as possible. That’s why I never leave the house before having my protein shake suppository inserted. I got so excited when my dog sitter’s doula told me about the wonders of Sujuk that I just needed to buy the entirety of the only available supply outside of the Himalayas. Like all the best things, it arrived in an unmarked box that wasn’t on the manifest of an unscheduled Sri Lankan shipping vessel. After one bite, I was feeling more alert and vibrant than I had in years and I saw a clock counting down over everyone’s heads.
Sujuk is an inky black substance with an unctuous shine and a Tootsie Roll chew. It gets its nutritional punch from thousands of years’ worth of plant and animal organic material compressed by the heft of the Himalayas. It’s harvested by locals when it oozes out of mountain bases during the summer thaw. It has an earthy taste that goes well on a slice of toast. A sprinkle of Himalayan salt brings out its sludginess.
Everyone’s time was different. Mine was “27.07.23.09.14”. I assumed the stoic 27 meant “27 years” and so on down to the seconds at the end which were in constant flux. It could have been an exact moment of death, but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions. Though it was odd that the more Sujuk I ate, the better I felt, and the better I felt, the more time was added to my clock. Now it felt more like a scoreboard than an egg timer. It’s almost like the Sujuk wants to be eaten.
And my bowel movements were so smooth.
Sujuk’s natural blandness made it a perfect canvas to add any combination flavors I could imagine. Chill it a little and it was a perfect substitute for tuna in a poke bowl. It was delicious when smeared a bagel with some minced dill, garlic, and onions. I sneaked into the intensive care unit of my local hospital to watch a man die when his clock ticked down to zero. It makes a great hoagie spread. It’s quite versatile.
I became obsessed with the stuff! I was putting it on everything. Over the next year as I ate Sujuk with every meal and as a snack and as a natural beauty mask and as a deodorant, I noticed my aging, well, it didn’t reverse, exactly. It kind of just stopped. So did the ticking on the clock above my head.
I didn’t know what was happening to me, so I called in our resident food nerd, Kyle, to give me the skinny on this gelatinous sludge that’s making me immortal. Kyle says the name Sujuk is an ancient Sanskrit word meaning “to live in beauty until the sun’s final embers are suffocated by the cold darkness of forever.” Sanskrit is an efficient language. I made sure to buy the only case of Sujuk that arrives on U.S. shores every month. Three years after I pitched this article, I owned so much I could swim in a pool of the stuff. I kept going.
For 10,000 years.
Or so. For a while there I ruled the desperate remains of the human race as they worshipped my ageless visage as a God. It was pretty cool.
I’m writing this to let whatever form of life might be reading this know that I don’t like Sujuk anymore. One more bite of the stuff and I’ll puke. I don’t know how long it’ll take before the aging process kicks back in. I figure I have a good 40 to 50 years of boredom ahead of me. Better than eating that shit again.
I think I’ll miss the smooth bowel movements most of all.
Katie Goldin’s Golden Rules
Weekly comics from the mind of Bunny Ears writer Katie Goldin. They're weird, they're funny, and they're always so pretty! The Goldin Rules…