Lament of the Sugar Junkie
(Or, “Super Silly Holiday Column that Doesn’t Actually Have Anything To Do With Diablo II)
I am unhealthy.
There’s really no denying it. Even as I type this I’m cramming a triple-choc muffin between my fat, gluttonous lips whilst simultaneously snorting a bag of sherbet.
Okay, so maybe that was a little white lie. But I do eat my fair share of junk food. Don’t we all? (This is the cue for all the vegans in the room to walk outside right now and throw yourselves off a cliff and hopefully into the path of some oncoming traffic. It’s not that I have anything against vegans per se, but more the fact that I’ve yet to see anything die today and I’m worried that I may be becoming re-sensitised.)
Now don’t get me wrong: I’m not fat. I weigh in at just over sixty kilograms, which I think is around four-hundred and ten pounds in your crazy imperial measurements. But my sedentary lifestyle, combined with my disturbing fondness for cake, chips and shortening, has left me in a near-constant state of exhaustion and apathy. As it stands I can barely find the energy to wiggle my fingers. I’m only able to type this now by spitting cherry pits at the keyboard.
Am I a bad person? Well, yes. Heck, just the other week I was throwing darts at squirrels. But that isn’t quite what I was trying to get at.
I recently discovered for myself the magic of the Internet. For those of you that don’t know, the Internet is this wondrous new invention that brings all the knowledge of the world to within reach of your fingertips. Furthermore, thanks to the Internet you are no longer forced to expose yourself to nasty outside influences, such as direct sunlight or the black plague. And according to the Internet-machine, I’m not the only unhealthy individual around. It’s true!
If the statistics are to be believed, approximately half of all adults in the western world are either overweight or obese. And that’s saying nothing of the equally-unhealthy anorexics and bulimics. Or those weird people who think that cooked food is bad for you (who says that society is taking a step backwards?).
But the prophets of raw foodism are not our main concern. What’s far more worrying – at least to nutritionists – is that these days it’s considered ‘acceptable’ to be fat and/or unhealthy. It appears that decades of exposure to Jolly Fat Men such as Santa Claus and Marlon Brando have whittled away both our resistances and our inhibitions.
Is this a bad thing?
I’m inclined to believe that it is, although I’m more than reluctant to admit it. Let us look at some of the potential future repercussions of living in a society where ‘blubber is better’ and leaving one’s house via crane is considered the norm:
If you thought Superman was obnoxious as the man of steel, just imagine what we’ll be forced to endure once he becomes the man of steak. You’ll thrill as he saves the world’s beloved consumers from the evil Dietician Overlord! You’ll gasp as he takes the battle to the root-vegetable pushers! You’ll lose all control of your bodily functions as he discovers that Lois Lane is in fact a vitamin-popping communist! Then you can lie down and relax as society trips over itself and lands back in the 1950s, a time when Superheroes weren’t an embarrassment and paying somebody to beat your kids for you was considered to be rather desirable. We’re already halfway there, people. The shoelaces have long been tangled. Just one more step…
Lard Butties. Triple-egg-mocha-frappuccinos. Mac’s-older-brother-from- upstate-who-can’t-fit-into-a-car-without-the-use-of-a-jack. Butter-in-a-can. Spam-flavoured toothpaste. The list goes on. Ronald will once again become king of the universe. Subway will close down and Jarrod will be eaten. Salad will turn to legend, which in turn will turn to myth, which in turn will turn into the next Robert Jordan novel. I get
dizzy just thinking about it.
Anna Nicole Smith will once again be considered attractive
I really don’t think I need to say anything more here, do I?
But on the other hand, who’s to say it’s all doom and gloom and deep fried pie? There are upsides:
An abundance of Jolly Fat Men
They may not be healthy, nor attractive, but they sure as hell are funny. Go on: name a single fat person that isn’t completely hilarious in one form or another. I dare you.
(I mean c’mon! They jiggle and they wobble and they make amusing noises, often involuntarily. Plus toilet humour is the foundation of all great British comedy, and you can’t get much closer to a toilet than a fat person. On a side note, I failed Remedial Philosophy.)
No more celebrity eating disorders
With the days of spewing up eighteen-course meals in public restrooms naught but a delightful stain on the memory, we the consumers will have lost one of our only viable methods of making fun of celebrities. But it’s not all bad. Women’s magazines will be out of business within days, resulting in the collapse of astrology and the permanent fading of the royal family from the public eye. And the chattering classes, left with nothing to fill their vapid, empty lives with, will descend further into the depths of daytime TV. Soon their houses will be so overflowing with thigh-masters and E-Z food preparation units that they will no longer be able to move, let alone go outside and complain. This is natural selection at work, people.
The end of ‘Yo mamma’s so fat’ jokes
If for any reason you don’t consider this to be a good thing I’m going to bust your kneecaps. With my phat rhymes.
People will blame God.
For creating us in his own, apparently flawed image, no doubt. Thank goodness there’s no better ward against litigation than the Eternal Boundary.
Yet in spite of this scattering of positives, the blight of the obese society continues to hang over our horizon. And I can’t stand it. I just can’t stand it. Good thing, then, that I won’t have to for much longer. The average life expectancy of a sugar junkie is inferior even to that of half a Princess Diana. Though I’ll probably wind up going to Hell for that one.
Disclaimer: The Lion’s Toes was written by Leon (Robert McGrath-Kerr) and hosted by Diabloii.net. The opinions expressed in these columns are those of the author, and not necessarily those of Diii.net.