"The Implications of Some Rather Greasy French Fries"
By "Dr Tortoise"
For reasons that are not entirely clear to me, I have decided to look
down into the box of french fries. These fries are from McDonalds,
purchased about half an hour earlier. The heavily accented member of
the servile class working at the cash register had over-charged me, but
our mutual lack of ability to understand each other’s speech dictated
that McDonalds would keep my extra fifty cents. Perhaps it was some
grand scheme on her part, feigning a heavy accent to hustle fifty cents
from every submissive-looking gringo boy who braved the cash register.
My burger has long since been consumed, after being brutally defiled of
its various toppings and condiments. Gone too is the "milk" shake, if
it could be called that, a paper cup of froth that was the centerpiece
of the meal for me. The burger was a mere accompaniment to this
glorious white goop. The french fries now stand alone. They have been
in existence for a good half-hour now, and are well past their prime.
The grease in which they were soaked has turned cold, so attempting to
consume these fries at this late state would inevitably leave a strange
film on the lips that no amount of wiping can remove. They look
genuinely unfit for human consumption, like soaked strips of cardboard.
This makes it easier to accept the grim reality that they will not be
eaten, and will instead find retirement in a garbage can somewhere.
They will receive no more affection from me than they did from the
toiling members of the aforementioned servile class. They will be
destroyed with no more love than they were created.
McDonalds epitomizes the evil multinational, but I continue to loyally
patronize it, throwing to the wind my principles regarding the
betterment of man. I’m very willing to imagine I am a liberal, but once
my comfort is at stake my ideological stance changes quite rapidly. At
least I can admit I’m a hypocrite. And it seems, as long as I’m
abandoning my core principles, why not abandon them all? The conclusion
of class and the prospect of freedom abruptly quell these anarchistic
notions. I pick up the french fries and throw them in the trash. If
there was a communist revolution in this country, I, who purportedly
approve of such political extremism, would certainly be one of the
first to die.