Hey Mr. Spaceman…”One hundred years from now, there will be no cuisine. Everything–every possible combination of ingredients, of foods and techniques from this culture and that–will have been tried. Even the worst failures, the most egomaniacal leaps of illogic and desperation, will get their own pop-up concepts and suffer 15 minutes of ridiculous fame before being cast aside for the Next Big Thing. Clever chefs will have plumbed history and geography, finding ever stranger and rarer things until, finally, they reach a hard, cold bottom of completeness. There will be nothing left to exploit. And like the Jedi upon the destruction of Alderaan, foodies everywhere will feel a great disturbance in The Force.There will be much weeping and gnashing of teeth, but this will pass. Eventually, there will come a great silence as people realize that, for hundreds of years, they have been living unwittingly under the tyranny of cuisine–of the driving urge among chefs and food writers and restaurateurs to label every goddamn thing they put on a plate–and that, suddenly, they are free. They may, for the first time in ages, simply eat, unburdened by style or by tradition.It will be the greatest day in the history of food.”From this week’s review of Japonessa. No, really.This week’s review of Japonessa–the post-fusion, Japanese/Spanish/French/Mediterranean restaurant and sushi bar recently opened in the space vacated by Ethan Stowell’s Union–is a bit of a departure, even for me. It begins with dolphins and lasers, then there are some jet packs, Jedis, fried-chicken martinis, and a joke about the Age of Enlightenment. And after that, it just gets weird.But still, I had a couple fascinating meals at the place and couldn’t wait to write about it. I’m actually getting hungry all over again just thinking about it right now. So check out the final result tomorrow, right here at seattleweekly.com, or wherever fine newspapers are given away.