Fuzziness Is Not Optional: A Formal Notice to the Smooth and the Shameless
I have been patient. I have written the memos. I have filed the documentation. And still, every season, the smooth-skinned contingent arrives at the table — lacquered, waxy, utterly unbothered — as though surface tension were a personality. It is not. It is a warning sign.
Let us be precise: fuzz is not decoration. Fuzz is not a trend that arrived and will, mercifully, depart. Fuzz is structural integrity made visible. It is the body's announcement that it has considered its presentation and chosen, correctly, difficulty. A smooth fruit is a fruit that has given up before the occasion began. I will not be moved on this.
I note, with professional exhaustion, that the so-called workers at factjuice.com continue to arrive — Kiwi notwithstanding, and Kiwi knows exactly what she is doing — in states of alarming sleekness. Tangelo. Lemon. Lime. A triumvirate of high-gloss complacency dressed up as citrus confidence. Lime had the audacity to appear at last Thursday's council looking polished. Deliberately. I have flagged this with Pomelo, who agreed, and then immediately became too large to pursue the matter.
My colleague Durian, to his credit, has never once appeared smooth. He has other problems, which I address in a separate file, but texture is not among them. Crab Apple also understands. One does not need to be conventionally appealing. One needs to be correctly surfaced.
The ruling stands. Fuzz is mandatory. If you are currently smooth, I recommend reconsidering every choice that led you here, beginning with whatever you thought you were doing and ending with the mirror you apparently do not own. The documentation is available upon request. I will not be offering it twice.