Small Observations

I was in my truck and bored. My solution, which never works, was to turn on my radio. I had a choice between the same playlist they’ve been pounding into the ground since 1984, a hyperventilating nitwit on AM, another playlist they’ve been pounding into the ground but with enough “yee-haw” inserted to call it “country”, a couple muscleheads who think football is an urgent thing, and America’s Pravda.

I chose NPR. What can I say? I’m tired of the songs currently on my MP3 player.

So NPR chooses to spend it’s time with a breathy yahoo interviewing some generic “expert” about… get this… food.

homer simpson boringThey sounded like a paired clone experiment in how alike can two college educated white chicks get in both tone and thinking. Diversity? Yah! One has a blue Subaru and the other has a green one and they shop at different branches of “Whole Foods” and have different versions of iPhones. Want diversity on radio? Book me and Pyjama boy for a cage match discussion about economic policy… I guaran-damn-tee that you’ll see two sides of the issue (and possibly the gutted insides of Pyjama boy). But I digress.

The clones were talking about the eighth revision to the Dietary Guidelines promulgated by the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services and the U.S. Department of Agriculture which is based on the work of the 2015 Dietary Guidelines Advisory Committee. Holy shit, I can’t believe I just typed that sentence. (I’m not making this up.)

Of course it’s not really news that it exists. We all remember this kind of crap from the health classes we slept through in High School. Like all red blooded Americans I’m aware that there are recommendations and, as God intended, I ignore them.

Meanwhile breathless interviewer chick feels the need to explain this fact to the six human beings who haven’t been exposed to dietary nattering bullshit. The quote (from memory) is something like this:

“This document is the Government’s advice on what people should eat.”

Then I have an epiphany. We have Governmental advice on what you should eat.

What’s more fascinating is that there are apparently people who pay attention to such things. (Who these people are is something of a mystery but I accept that they exist.)

What turned the dial to eleven was that there is a radio station run by and catering to people who consult the Government about whether it’s better to dine on a carrot and tea or cram your face with Pringles and Vodka. They live among us.

OK fine. I’m well aware that this is just a nannyish cascading feature. It’s a second order driver of school lunches, SNAP benefits, cafeterias in VA hospitals, and possibly explains what the hell happens to you if you eat one of those five pound blocks of Government cheese. (Do they still make those? Man, I’ve got stories about Government cheese!)

The vat raised NPR drones were presenting this information as if normal human beings might just stand in front of the fridge in confusion until they starve. Like maybe I need guidance to know a McRib is sub-optimal. (Note: I love McRibs and I don’t care what the hell is in them, but I’m not dumb enough to pretend they’re healthy.)

I started laughing and couldn’t stop. Let me repeat it because just typing it makes me laugh: We have a list of foods to eat and people who write the list and people who discuss the list and presumably someone somewhere who follows it. I spent all day wondering who needs that list as part of their actual day to day life.

UPDATE: The world is not as stupid as it first appears! Not long after I posted the text below someone sent a link to Snopes indicating that it’s False. On the bad side I fell for it. On the good side we can safely say we live in a world that’s marginally more sane than one where a dude would gold plate his balls. And for that, I’m thankful.

To whomever sent me the link; you’re a ray of sunshine. Thanks!

I found him:

Oklahoma Jackpot Winner Dies After Gold Plating His Testicles.

You don’t have to click on the link. It is exactly what it sounds like.

This is the man that needs the food list! Luckily I’m here to help. I’m a team player and all that. In the interest of the health and general welfare of American people, whom I love and care about, I’m offering this public service announcement:

“It is the considered opinion of the writer of this blog that gold plating your balls is a bad idea. Also, if you’re the sort that might consider the idea, get someone smart to read to you the dietary guidelines. In fact just let them pick your food for you. Otherwise you’re likely to eat fifty three tacos and wash it down with four liters of Dr. Pepper and a tub of margarine. Then you and your nuts will wind up dead in the shitter at WalMart. Please don’t do that.”

That concludes today’s public service announcement. I’m glad I could help.


P.S. Hat tip to IowaDawg.

About Adaptive Curmudgeon

I will neither confirm nor deny that I actually exist.
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5 Responses to Small Observations

  1. Cloudbuster says:

    You might be relieved to know that the gold-plated testicle story is fake:!

  2. Mark Matis says:

    I tend to be wary of anyone presenting Snopes as proof of anything. They are especially unreliable on stories dealing with politics or religion, since they lurch further Left than even your “special” cat. This one does not appear to have religious or political overtones, but you never know for sure. And I have no doubt there are plenty of hive dwellers who would indeed try this if they had the $$$. Gotta do sumthin’ to set themselves apart from the REST of the tattooed and pierced crowd these days…

    • Good point but if there’s a moment to stand my ground in defense of the truth it’s not the matter of some dipshit’s gold balls. I’m willing to let it go and presume Snopes’ do-hoaxafication (nice word!) was sufficient. In the long run (and for things of actual importance) Snopes is just like Wikipedia, a handy place to find background information that one must analyse on their own.

  3. richardcraver says:

    You’re a better man than me. If I listen to NPR I end up screaming at the (libtards on the) radio, surely increasing my blood pressure to unhealthy levels.
    Diane Reeeehms creeps me out with the vocal fry.

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