I think I’ve eaten more in response to all the bad news, all
the tragic news, the desperate news of so many, causing me to drown my sorrows
with an oral fixation of all things edible.
I know food will not solve any of the problems, but it sure tastes good
as I eat to forget, eat to remember and eat just to eat.
The latest news of the fiscal cliff forced me to order a
pizza, pepperoni and mushroom, extra cheese and anchovies, yes I love
anchovies. Each slice satisfied my cravings,
helping to drown my depression over the total irresponsibility of our
leaders. They’ve all known for months
about this fiscal cliff and without exception waited until the last minute, literally
the last minute of the last hour of the last day. It was only then that they came up with a
pathetic stop gap measure to forestall the problem until another day, I need a
taco.
I guess I should be thankful that our refrigerator is full
of tasty treats, diversions from the reality that splashes before our eyes
every time we watch TV, log onto the internet or listen to the radio. Those distractions are much more desirable than
the rotten and odorous tidbits of news that seems to permeate every facet of
our lives. It’s almost like eating a
moist slice of chocolate cake, enjoying every morsel and crumb, reaching for
the piesta resistance, that cold glass of milk, the first drop between the lips
and the surprise of a sour, acerbic taste burning the memory of the past
chocolate wonder destroying the buds of flavor, replaced with the foul and chemically
acidified horror of curdled and clumpy nastiness.
No matter how much good food we eat in our attempt to
overcome, there is never enough to deaden the stridency of obvious corruption
and political discord or the pervasive news of negativity that permeates all
that we see, all that we do and all that we are. There is no meal, neither treat, nor epicurean
delight good enough to mask the sour drops of congealed hypocrisy spewing from
the lips of politicians as they offer up the fondant covered cakes, expertly
decorated, filled only with the slime and refuse of a perverse community. They care
not if we taste and discard for theirs is the gift of deception only, never caring
about the substance within.
I guess there is really nothing for me to do. I don’t seem to have a voice, our leaders don’t
listen. I have no power to affect any
change, nor any influence to extract a difference, I’m only one of millions
trying to cope, trying to survive the never ending blitzkrieg against my life,
my morals and my beliefs, all I have left is my food and come to think about it
that’s been manipulated, scientifically enhanced, chemically altered, packaged,
processed and transformed, leaving only a shadow of the once nutritious, substantive
and healthy fare of days past. Even the Twinkie
is gone. Ooh my gosh I need another
pizza….
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