Chronus
@chkronos.bsky.social
"If I were not Alexander the Great, I would like to be Chkronos"
- Alexander the Great
- Alexander the Great
We sailed paper boats on chocolate rivers of thought, but time’s brittle fingers pried our vessels apart, and currents of calendar dates swallowed every bow. Echoes of our fingertips pressed against glass panes crystallized into dust before we knew they were gone.
August 21, 2025 at 10:27 PM
We sailed paper boats on chocolate rivers of thought, but time’s brittle fingers pried our vessels apart, and currents of calendar dates swallowed every bow. Echoes of our fingertips pressed against glass panes crystallized into dust before we knew they were gone.
"Don't like it? Don't eat it"
In the court of my kitchen, I sentence this pizza to public shaming and immediate consumption of the center only. The crust, that unholy cheese engorged lie, will be banished to the bin, to moulder alongside the other detritus of human vanity.
In the court of my kitchen, I sentence this pizza to public shaming and immediate consumption of the center only. The crust, that unholy cheese engorged lie, will be banished to the bin, to moulder alongside the other detritus of human vanity.
August 14, 2025 at 12:03 AM
"Don't like it? Don't eat it"
In the court of my kitchen, I sentence this pizza to public shaming and immediate consumption of the center only. The crust, that unholy cheese engorged lie, will be banished to the bin, to moulder alongside the other detritus of human vanity.
In the court of my kitchen, I sentence this pizza to public shaming and immediate consumption of the center only. The crust, that unholy cheese engorged lie, will be banished to the bin, to moulder alongside the other detritus of human vanity.
"But it's delicious" Delicious like a stadium nacho avalance. Once, maybe. Twice, perhaps. But the third time you feel it, the heaviness that isnt comfort but ballast. The kind of "delicious" that mistakes saturation for satisfaction. It's the edible version of shouting to be heard in an empty room
August 14, 2025 at 12:02 AM
"But it's delicious" Delicious like a stadium nacho avalance. Once, maybe. Twice, perhaps. But the third time you feel it, the heaviness that isnt comfort but ballast. The kind of "delicious" that mistakes saturation for satisfaction. It's the edible version of shouting to be heard in an empty room
Had I wanted stuffed crust, I would have asked for stuffed crust. There are boxes to tick, options to select, permissions to grant. CONSENT IS NOT IMPLIED in the phrase "pepperoni pizza with mushrooms, olives, peppers, extra sauce." But somewhere, someone decided they knew my desires better than I.
August 14, 2025 at 12:00 AM
Had I wanted stuffed crust, I would have asked for stuffed crust. There are boxes to tick, options to select, permissions to grant. CONSENT IS NOT IMPLIED in the phrase "pepperoni pizza with mushrooms, olives, peppers, extra sauce." But somewhere, someone decided they knew my desires better than I.
History is littered with tales of overreach disguised as benevolence. Caligula made his horse a consul. Domino's stuffed my crust with cheese. Both acts were equally pointless and equally insulting.
August 13, 2025 at 11:58 PM
History is littered with tales of overreach disguised as benevolence. Caligula made his horse a consul. Domino's stuffed my crust with cheese. Both acts were equally pointless and equally insulting.
It's the place you end up when you've forgotten how to make the simple stuff sing. It's a billboard that screams because it has NOTHING TO SAY. It's the edible equivalent of a plot twist you didn't earn. TA-DA! NOW CLAP, YOU SWINE!
August 13, 2025 at 11:57 PM
It's the place you end up when you've forgotten how to make the simple stuff sing. It's a billboard that screams because it has NOTHING TO SAY. It's the edible equivalent of a plot twist you didn't earn. TA-DA! NOW CLAP, YOU SWINE!
"Extra cheese" belongs where cheese belongs: ON. TOP. EXPOSED TO FIRE. FREE TO BLISTER AND BROWN. It should COMMUNE with the sauce, not lurk in crustal catacombs like a GREMLIN. Stuffing the rim is the cul.de.sac. of culinary imagination.
August 13, 2025 at 11:56 PM
"Extra cheese" belongs where cheese belongs: ON. TOP. EXPOSED TO FIRE. FREE TO BLISTER AND BROWN. It should COMMUNE with the sauce, not lurk in crustal catacombs like a GREMLIN. Stuffing the rim is the cul.de.sac. of culinary imagination.
The congregation of certain gluttons will preach that more cheese is more love. They will speak in tongues about comfort food, about childhood nostalgia, about "fun." Fun is not the problem. Fun does not require smuggling a dairy grenade into the holiest part of the pie.
August 13, 2025 at 11:55 PM
The congregation of certain gluttons will preach that more cheese is more love. They will speak in tongues about comfort food, about childhood nostalgia, about "fun." Fun is not the problem. Fun does not require smuggling a dairy grenade into the holiest part of the pie.
Don't talk to me about "surprise cheese." Surprise is for birthdays and meteor showers. In a crust, surprise is a mugging. When I eat my crust, I expect a FUCKING CRUST. It's culinary jump-scare porn.
August 13, 2025 at 11:53 PM
Don't talk to me about "surprise cheese." Surprise is for birthdays and meteor showers. In a crust, surprise is a mugging. When I eat my crust, I expect a FUCKING CRUST. It's culinary jump-scare porn.
You don't hold the pizza; the pizza holds you hostage. You can dab grease with napkins like a penitent dabbing tears at a confessional all you want, but that napkin becomes translucent, a paper-think reliquary of your poor choices.
August 13, 2025 at 11:52 PM
You don't hold the pizza; the pizza holds you hostage. You can dab grease with napkins like a penitent dabbing tears at a confessional all you want, but that napkin becomes translucent, a paper-think reliquary of your poor choices.
you'd never make again. The mouthfeel is a lie. Rubber passing as velvet and heaviness masquerading as comfort.
Structurally, the stuffed rim wrecks the physics of a slice. The HANDLE. The very thing meant to give you leverage. Turns into a slippery sagging pillow.
Structurally, the stuffed rim wrecks the physics of a slice. The HANDLE. The very thing meant to give you leverage. Turns into a slippery sagging pillow.
August 13, 2025 at 11:51 PM
you'd never make again. The mouthfeel is a lie. Rubber passing as velvet and heaviness masquerading as comfort.
Structurally, the stuffed rim wrecks the physics of a slice. The HANDLE. The very thing meant to give you leverage. Turns into a slippery sagging pillow.
Structurally, the stuffed rim wrecks the physics of a slice. The HANDLE. The very thing meant to give you leverage. Turns into a slippery sagging pillow.
Imagine you life the slice. The tip droops under excess, oils bleeding into the plate. You reach the rim expecting a reprieve, a clean finish. NOPE. THE CRUST RUPTURES. A slrury of CHEESE assautls your tongue, hotter than the surface of your regrets, tasting like every late night decision you swore
August 13, 2025 at 11:50 PM
Imagine you life the slice. The tip droops under excess, oils bleeding into the plate. You reach the rim expecting a reprieve, a clean finish. NOPE. THE CRUST RUPTURES. A slrury of CHEESE assautls your tongue, hotter than the surface of your regrets, tasting like every late night decision you swore
The real revolution would have been humility. To learn to value the quiet complexity of a good dough ferment. The restraint of a sparing sauce. The architecture of char. But humanity's arrogance sells. So we got a crust that shouts, even when the pizza begs for a whisper.
August 13, 2025 at 11:49 PM
The real revolution would have been humility. To learn to value the quiet complexity of a good dough ferment. The restraint of a sparing sauce. The architecture of char. But humanity's arrogance sells. So we got a crust that shouts, even when the pizza begs for a whisper.
The mid-1990s arms race of fast-food innovation took the baton that is extravagence and progress, and sprinted into the absurd. Stuffed crust was marketed as liberation. EAT BACKWARDS! BREAK RULES! BE BOLD!
Translation: Surrender your palate to a gimmick.
Translation: Surrender your palate to a gimmick.
August 13, 2025 at 11:48 PM
The mid-1990s arms race of fast-food innovation took the baton that is extravagence and progress, and sprinted into the absurd. Stuffed crust was marketed as liberation. EAT BACKWARDS! BREAK RULES! BE BOLD!
Translation: Surrender your palate to a gimmick.
Translation: Surrender your palate to a gimmick.
Medieval Europe flirted with sumptuary laws because the rich couldn't stop peacocking their DECADENCE. IF they'd had stuffed crust, some monk would have penned a furious marginalia depicting Beelzebub wielding a cheese syringe.
August 13, 2025 at 11:47 PM
Medieval Europe flirted with sumptuary laws because the rich couldn't stop peacocking their DECADENCE. IF they'd had stuffed crust, some monk would have penned a furious marginalia depicting Beelzebub wielding a cheese syringe.
instead of crafting balance, just fucking CRAM CHEESE WHERE CRAFT SHOULD BE. Aquinas would sigh, he would be disappointed. Stuffed crust is sin because it exalts quantity over harmony, volume over virtue, noise over music. It confuses indulgence with joy. It CONFUSES FULLNESS WITH FULFILLMENT.
August 13, 2025 at 11:45 PM
instead of crafting balance, just fucking CRAM CHEESE WHERE CRAFT SHOULD BE. Aquinas would sigh, he would be disappointed. Stuffed crust is sin because it exalts quantity over harmony, volume over virtue, noise over music. It confuses indulgence with joy. It CONFUSES FULLNESS WITH FULFILLMENT.
Stuffed crust sups at the trough of excess and baptizes moderation in a vat of DISGUSTING dairy.
Gluttony is obvious, yet stuffed crust fuses it with pride, the preening belief that "more" is inherently holier (IT. IS. NOT.)
And there's sloth too, a laziness of imagination:
Gluttony is obvious, yet stuffed crust fuses it with pride, the preening belief that "more" is inherently holier (IT. IS. NOT.)
And there's sloth too, a laziness of imagination:
August 13, 2025 at 11:43 PM
Stuffed crust sups at the trough of excess and baptizes moderation in a vat of DISGUSTING dairy.
Gluttony is obvious, yet stuffed crust fuses it with pride, the preening belief that "more" is inherently holier (IT. IS. NOT.)
And there's sloth too, a laziness of imagination:
Gluttony is obvious, yet stuffed crust fuses it with pride, the preening belief that "more" is inherently holier (IT. IS. NOT.)
And there's sloth too, a laziness of imagination:
Dante's gluttons did not simply eat too much, they adored the wrong thing in the wrong order. Augustine woudl call it disordered love (ordo amoris gone to hell). You were meant to love the crust for its holy restraint. Its temperance. Its echo of the oven's breath.
August 13, 2025 at 11:42 PM
Dante's gluttons did not simply eat too much, they adored the wrong thing in the wrong order. Augustine woudl call it disordered love (ordo amoris gone to hell). You were meant to love the crust for its holy restraint. Its temperance. Its echo of the oven's breath.
Instead, stuffed crust, its scalding goo sluicing into every expectation, drenching your hope in DISGUSTING grease.
I wanted bread, and all I got was fucking betrayal.
I wanted bread, and all I got was fucking betrayal.
August 13, 2025 at 11:41 PM
Instead, stuffed crust, its scalding goo sluicing into every expectation, drenching your hope in DISGUSTING grease.
I wanted bread, and all I got was fucking betrayal.
I wanted bread, and all I got was fucking betrayal.
into a DISGUSTING CHEESY LANDFILL. It takes the minimalist chapel and slaps NEON LIGHTS on the ALTAR. It is culinary apostasy, a desecration of what we know to be holy.
The crust is the handle, the cadence, the crescendo. It should snap, sigh, then chew.
The crust is the handle, the cadence, the crescendo. It should snap, sigh, then chew.
August 13, 2025 at 11:39 PM
into a DISGUSTING CHEESY LANDFILL. It takes the minimalist chapel and slaps NEON LIGHTS on the ALTAR. It is culinary apostasy, a desecration of what we know to be holy.
The crust is the handle, the cadence, the crescendo. It should snap, sigh, then chew.
The crust is the handle, the cadence, the crescendo. It should snap, sigh, then chew.
Crust is a HOLY covenant. It is the vow between fire and flour, the simple combination of heat meeting grain, air trapped into honeycombed chambers, a rim blistered by HONEST labor
Stuffed crust violates that very covenant by turning the final boundary of a pizza... the part meant for goodness...
Stuffed crust violates that very covenant by turning the final boundary of a pizza... the part meant for goodness...
August 13, 2025 at 11:38 PM
Crust is a HOLY covenant. It is the vow between fire and flour, the simple combination of heat meeting grain, air trapped into honeycombed chambers, a rim blistered by HONEST labor
Stuffed crust violates that very covenant by turning the final boundary of a pizza... the part meant for goodness...
Stuffed crust violates that very covenant by turning the final boundary of a pizza... the part meant for goodness...
And by the time he stepped outside, thinking he’d finally fixed everything… there was no world left to see. Just ruins. The clock still ticked, though. It always does.
July 31, 2025 at 12:28 PM
And by the time he stepped outside, thinking he’d finally fixed everything… there was no world left to see. Just ruins. The clock still ticked, though. It always does.
But the more he worked, the faster the hands spun. Hours became minutes. Days, seconds. He missed the seasons, the people, the world changing beyond the tower walls.
July 31, 2025 at 12:28 PM
But the more he worked, the faster the hands spun. Hours became minutes. Days, seconds. He missed the seasons, the people, the world changing beyond the tower walls.
And by the time he stepped outside, thinking he'd finally fixed everything... There was no world left to see. Just ruins. The clock still ticked, though. It always does.
July 31, 2025 at 12:26 PM
And by the time he stepped outside, thinking he'd finally fixed everything... There was no world left to see. Just ruins. The clock still ticked, though. It always does.