In one corner, photos from America! In the opposite corner, photos from Italy!
Inventive America occasionally trips, running back and forth between big Ideas and bigger Ideals. Fashionable Italy sometimes favors Form over Function.
Who will prevail?
- Winner is determined by the Blog Host, best of five rounds.
- American photos to the West (⇐); Italian to the East (⇒).
- All results are arbitrary.
- All opinions are only that: Opinions. So if any of this gets your blood boiling, simmer down!
- Anyone taking any of this seriously means the entire “contest” will be forfeit.
Let the games begin!
Round One: Mailboxes
Winner: Italy, because I wouldn’t be afraid of that mild, mossy mailbox, whereas the other could transform into something explosive, spy on me, break into my house, or mug me. Can you imagine spotting a human-shaped mailbox in the shadows of a darkened street… Spooky!
Although, I suppose if the other mailbox and I were friends it wouldn’t seem so threatening, but then it would be all like, “Oil me! Oil me!” Who needs more friends like that?
Round Two: Cigarette Packs
Winner: America. Again, determined by being the least scary. Sure, scariness may be the point (and as a non-smoker myself, I applaud the Italians for their intentions), but just as with round one, who wants to be frightened every time they reach into a box?
By the way, I found all these cigarette boxes as trash, but the American box was found IN the trash — near the top, no digging required, and the Italian boxes were scattered as litter (shame, shame!) among many others, near the Coliseum in Rome.
Speaking of litter…
Round Three: Party Litter
Winner: Italy, obviously. I mean, come on, the balloons not only match the flowerboxes above, but they match the stains too? A light blue stain? Seriously?!
Honorable mention goes to the American balloons for actually being overhead.
Speaking of overhead…
Round Four: Things Seen From Above that Rhyme with “At”
Sorry, Italy, the whole “party litter” thing got old, even if grey is a complementary color to pink. You already played the custom color card.
And while a “Happy Birthday” hat (in English) might seem suspicious, that picture did originate from Monterosso. Honest! Left by an American? Probably… Then again, maybe the cat is named Leonardo, or Donatella.
Besides, the cat lives in Hawaii. He (or she) has had a rough month.
Either way, I choose the cat.
To make this fair, I’ll let Italy select the final, tie-breaking category.
Round Five: Carbonara
Based on the above photos? America. Not only did that taste awesome, it’s gorgeous to look at. (Plus, they prepared speck two ways — crispy AND meaty chunks.)
But here’s the thing… I hunted THAT meal down to satisfy my craving for carbonara, and took special care to snap a good photo. However, the carbonara on the right PROMPTED that craving (specifically, the bottom two dishes, despite the ashtray between them; the top one proved interesting due to the strange “fried cheese bowl” it came served on, although spoiled by the use of slightly-burned bacon instead of prosciutto).
I went all the way to Italy with a precise carbonara in mind (R.I.P. Caio Bella! Caio Casa Nostra!), and returned satisfied, hungry to explore, and open to all carbonara possibilities.
So then, the final winner? Your clue is found in another, classy mailbox:
Photo Duel Winner: ITALY
(I warned you this would be arbitrary…)
4 thoughts on “Photo Duel: U.S.A. vs. Italy”
That result is MADNESS!! You’ll never get a job on a game show with that showing!. It’s almost like you were giving out points randomly, and not based on the FACTS! What is this? “Who’s line is it anyway?”?
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Ha! I never understood why little girls like to play “Tea Party,” but now I have it figured out. It’s a matter of being completely in control: who is invited, who attends (real or imaginary), what gets “served,” etc. I applied that principle to creating this contest, making up the rules, the players, the content and the winner. Everyone gets to share in the prize, which is to SEE this ridiculous mental tea party play out. You may call it madness, but don’t forget these lyrics from “Chess”:
The man is utterly mad — you’re playing a lunatic —
That’s the problem. He’s a brilliant lunatic and you can’t tell which way
he’ll jump — like his game he’s impossible to analyze — you can’t dissect
him, predict him — which of course means he’s not a lunatic at all.
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Cats always win.
“True dat,” said the cat.