Please, Lord, protect us from ourselves
At the same time, I don’t know what a vitamin looks like, either. I know lack of this indescribable entity leads to conditions like scurvy, beri-beri, yaws and ungulate fever and other unspeakable things, so I guess they’re real enough.
Probably trans-fats are, too. At least that’s what the government is telling the people of British Columbia, so who am I to quibble? You know I always adhere to the tenets of do-gooding officialdom.
But, where is it going to end? Are we soon to expect brown-shirted ‘enforcers’ telling us what we must and must not insert into our gaping maws? Will we be dragged off at 3 a.m. due to a neighbor reporting we were seen sneaking out of McDonald’s with a container of fries? Will child turn against parent? Will Mel Gibson get pissed up again and blame it all on the loss of the Latin Mass?
Truly, those who ‘know better how to take care of us than we do’, have already rendered public smoking a virtually capital punishment offence. And there are many screeds against the evils of second-hand smoke (I don’t necessarily disagree, I just detest the heavy-handedness), and now, if you haven’t heard, it is third-hand smoke. I’m awaiting the arrival of prohibitions against fourth-hand smoke, which is, I believe, those cases in which your great-grandmother once dated (but did not marry) a rakish Yale lad in 1927 who was given to sucking on a meerschaum periodically.
Meanwhile, pregnant women have been exhorted for ages to stay away from the booze due to the possibility of fetal alcohol syndrome (fair enough), but a recent Oxford study states quite emphatically that the fairer sex shouldn’t ever indulge in even a small glass of plonk since any consumption whatsoever of alcohol will lead to breast cancer, and assorted other cancers.
And now, cut out those damn trans-fats and the BC government has decreed (just so we might not notice there are other social issues that maybe, just maybe deserve to be addressed) that we will be a trans-fat free domain henceforth. What remains of my beleaguered heart swells with pride at how our dauntless leaders are protecting us. We will be the first geopolitical enclave in North America to be trans-fat free. I am not making this up.
Burger and fries, pshaw, we will give you carrot sticks, celery and radishes and you will ultimately thank us for it and you will disregard the fact that those streets that are not crawling with homeless, abused children, gun-totin’ criminals who will never feel the force of the law, due to your infatuation with a benevolent government that will protect you and your arteries.
For indeed you are not sensible enough yourself to cut out eating shit like hotdogs at ballgames, pizzas before the Superbowl, or nachos at the pub on a Friday evening, ‘ve haff vays of makink you do zo!’, or words to that effect.
Personally I believe this is a vast conspiracy designed to appeal to certain obsessive women who are determined to get men to eat veggies, so they will get officialdom to help them out. Nothing like storm-troopers to get the point across. Most women no longer accept male protestations that ketchup and relish are vegetables, even though menfolk persist in adhering to such beliefs. I mean, if the ketchup thing was good enough for Ronald Reagan, who are we to disbelieve?
Actually, there are two other vegetables I embrace: corn on the cob, and potatoes in absolutely any form. Both actually taste like real food if slathered with the right condiments.
Oh, and as far as corn goes, I think I am on the winning side here. No trans-fat laden margarine for me. I am a butter man all the way.