By Brad LaCour
In life there are many scams that people get sucked into, and they come in many different shapes and sizes— whether it be Amway, Scientology, or marriage; but no con is more evil than organic food. People that celebrate organic food, i.e. dirty hippies, will tell you how healthy it is to live the organic lifestyle. How much better they feel now that the food they eat comes straight from the earth, untainted by the hand of man. But have you seen the vegan, bike riding, shades away from homeless people as they pour out of the local farmer’s market?
They don’t look healthy; they amble around looking like Tom Hanks in the last five minutes of Philadelphia. I smoke, drink, eat a truckload of red meat, and I’ve yet to be mistaken as the beneficiary of a telethon. To justify the insane prices charged for this crap, the clerk will sell you with an exotic story of how the food was grown. “Pepe the grape farmer picked each grape by hand, and then placed them in their own individual cloth bags he stitched together by the flickering light of a candle he made himself. So obviously you must understand why we can charge no less than eighteen dollars a pound for this fruit.”
And for all the bells and whistles, for all the interesting stories and crazy wrappers, the food spoils five seconds after air hits it. I made the mistake of buying a loaf of bread from one of these specialty shops, and in the span of 48 hours I was the proud owner of a third place in an elementary school Science Fair. What in the hell am I going to do with 16 slices of bread in less than two days? I’m no master chef, and even if I was I would be hard pressed to find enough creative ways to ingest a full loaf of bread.
To hell with natural and pure–load my food up with preservatives. I want the food to last the tests of time, to carry on even after an atom bomb hits the land and wipes away humanity as we know it. I want the next generation of explorers sifting through my remains to fully understand what my last meal was, because 80 years later that cupcake looks exactly the same as when I first unwrapped it. I want when I look through the pantry, and I see a box of food advertising tickets to a movie now on basic cable, that it’s still okay to eat whatever’s inside.
We have to unite as consumers, stand up and say, “I want my canned peas to outlast my grand children!” We have to fight the growing health nuts that want us to feel guilty for eating a hot dog. We have to convince that one hot chick working the organic produce section to bang a guy with no real aspiration in life. Okay, that last one was for me, but I still think they’re all good ideas we should immediately start working on. If you want to buy into the ridiculousness of organic food, by all means go ahead. Just understand, for all the money you’re spending on “fresh” food, you could join the Scientologists and become an emperor in space.