Inner Peace Through Fast Food
12 February 2010
There is a direct causal link between low self-esteem and fast food. If someone’s ego is destroyed they will fill the void that has opened in their life with vast quantities of cheap, naughty, nasty, tasty, life-threateningly fatty nibbles. Believe me, I know this to be true because I did it last Tuesday. On that day, after having had to endure several calculated and vicious attacks on my name and character, I found the world to be such a hostile place that I would have preferred to visit a nuclear holocaust upon civilisation rather than set foot outside my door. But deep within some gut-retail-instinct stirred. If I’d written an existential/food diary on that day it would have gone like this: Tuesday. 10.30 AM. Trip to Sainsbury’s – feelings of futility. How can we continue to live in such a dog-eat-dog world? Trip interrupted by detour across car park to Macdonald’s. Hesitation, then purchase: one Quarter-pounder with cheese. Feelings of euphoria. Slight indigestion. Midday. Went back to bed. Thoughts: Culture is conflict and no individual can withstand the onslaught of the empire builders; the fractional reserve banking system hasconsigned us all to wage slavery, debt, war and penury.- the media and advertising have turned us into hollow men, empty shells where humanity once dwelt. To hell with it all. Hungry again. Second attempted return to Sainsbury’s for ‘healthy salad’. Second detour to Macdonald’s. Crisis at counter – Macdonald’s is an evil empire too, is there no escape?! Purchase: second quarter-pounder with cheese. So it was that, before dinner time, I had devoured, for the first time in my life, two identical fast-food products of ill repute and felt better for it. I could have wept with happiness as the many fears and anxieties were silenced by the overwhelming sensualities of ketchup, pickle and mayo - the soothing textural seductions of melted cheese-flavoured-slice and reconstituted cow. In Macdonald’s car park, I licked my fingers and sucked the stains from my T-shirt, grinning to myself as people passed by thinking me a drunk or vagrant, (I was still wearing my pyjama trousers) and I experienced a new kind of joy: I felt like screaming at all the shoppers. ‘You want to destroy me, well here I am. I’ll even do it for you - watch me, I’ll buy burgers till I die!’ I had an epiphany and promised myself that I would never be snooty towards Mcdonald’s eaters again. I understood why the poor and depressed gorged on fast food. I had become one of the bovine bulimic masses and it seemed better than being a solitary empty nobody. The euphoria was short lived however, as it dawned on me how such fast-fixes ultimately could lead to a vicious cycle of low-self-esteem binging. As evening drew on, and I still hadn’t eaten anything ‘decent’, I attempted my third trip to Sainsbury’s. The burgers had given me head and belly-ache and I’d been unable to sleep the rest of the day away, as I’d, again, been overcome by how every day is a struggle of all-against-all. The final attempt to confront the vicious streets in search of salad was embarked upon; but as I entered the store and walked the aisles and was faced with fruit and veg choices, it came to me that all choice is conflict. I wanted to live in peace, with no choice. A special offer in the fridges came to my salvation: ‘3 Almond indulgence’ chocolate lollies. Three in a pack- £2 for two packs. I got through four of them that night, and the hole in my soul where anger and fear echoed, was filled and calmed by ‘Bourbon vanilla Dairy ice cream enrobed in Belgian chocolate with almond pieces.’ Peace at last.
1 comment
Written by Jon Unger on 17 February 2010 at 10:00:00
Fast food works for a quick high - a heady combination of salt, fat and knowing you are a bad person for giving money to global corporate bad guys. Then comes the low - the shakes, shame, fear of heart attack and obeseity. Then the craving comes back - the only way to fix it is to have another....
Big Mac anyone?