this morning I dropped an egg on the floor. not such a thrilling story, but revelatory none the less. I always—regularly and often—advocate for people to purchase pasture raised birds and eggs from a local farmer. but I buy free range, they say. but I buy organic. these are steps in the right direction, for sure, although generally not in the way the buyer may be thinking. free range invokes images of pasture. of sunshine. of, well, some mother fucking range! excuse my french, but am I wrong?