Medicus

Trimalchio was right about how doctors had to know what waas going on with people, what they had in their chests, and so on. However, doctors were looked down upon in Roman society because the profession was considered worthy of slaves (http://www.unrv.com/culture/ancient-roman-doctors.php), which is obviously a clear difference between Roman and American society.
Apparently, being a doctor in the ancient world required a much more well-rounded training than today. While modern doctors have to be familiar with human anatomy, behavioral problems, prescribing medicine, and various medical techniques, ancient doctors had to know how to use their instruments, what herbs cured what, and had to have some training in ritual (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Medicine_in_ancient_Rome).
The hypocrisy of having someone save your life and then you look down on them due to their socio-economic status made me think of two things. First, I noticed a parallel between medieval and Renaissance midwives being praised by mothers whom they helpe while they were in labor and then calling them witches in private. Second, this reminded me of James' Dave Chappelle post: maybe we shouldn't judge people by their accents and socioeconomic status after all.

What People Will Do for a Meal!

You know the old saying "There's no such thing as a free lunch"? Well, apparently there's also no such thing as a free dinner.
According to the Ruden translation, the Cena is supposed to be a send-up to the meal gladiators ate before killing each other. However, I think I'd take the arena over this nauseating spectacle...maybe.
Why is nobody complaining about Trimalchio basically torturing them-to say nothing of his slaves and his wife-the whole time with bad puns and garish displays of food? Are they trying to set a good example for their dim-witted host? Was it rude to complain about stuff like this? Or were they just masochists? The closest we get to a complaint is Encolpius not being able to eat.
Then again, who am I kidding? I wouldn't complain (out loud, unless it got too bad) if my host were being obnoxious like Trimalchio. I mean, I'd say something if my host hit his wife in the face with a wine cup, ala Trimalchio and Fortunata, but just talking about relieving ourselves at the dinner table...probably not. (My hyperactive gag reflex would do all the talking.)
I guess going along to get along is timeless.

What's Your Sign?

I did some research about the Zodiac, in honor of Trimalchio's lovely display. The Romans used the Zodiac as a divination tool, and is of course the basis of our modern horoscope system. The Hindu Zodiac tradition had certain parallels to the Greco-Roman tradition (which, believe it or not, came to the Greeks and then the Romans via the Babylonians), though was distinctly different. Specifically, the Hindu system is based on the positions of fixed stars, while the Greco-Roman system is based on the concept of the position of the sun at the time of someone's birth (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Western_astrological_tradition). However, certain parallels exist between the two systems in the names of the signs. For example, the Hindu sign comparable to Aquarius, "the water-bearer," translates to "Water Pitcher" (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zodiac#Hellenistic_and_Roman_era).
I believe both systems have the concept that one's sign affects one's personality. For example, Scorpios (like me) are supposed to be introverted (got that one) (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scorpio_(astrology)).

"Cum Granis Punici Mali"

I have a theory as to why Trimalchio had pomegranite seeds in his "grill," besides to give the impression that the grill was cooking. Pomegranites are associated with Juno and fertility, but they are also associated with Proserpina (anyone think that "serpens" plays a role in her name?) and death and rebirth.
"Nothing in literature happens by accident," or so my favorite high-school English teacher used to tell me. I think Petronius deliberately used pomegranite seeds for three reasons: one, to demonstrate how much Trimalchio is willing to flaunt his wealth; two, to foreshadow how nothing at the banquet is as it seems (like the "eggs" and the pastry phallus full of fruit); and three, to underscore (however subtly) the themes of death and the underworld (the vocabulary of entering the house is like the vocabulary of entering Orcus, and the dog, and of course Trimalchio's obsession with death). Hmm...
Picture courtesy of Wikipedia:

Salvete Omnes!