COLUMN: Just get off your fatty acids
Oh sure the government talks a lot about stimulating the economy, but then it turns right around and puts comedians, comedy clubs and humorists out of work by issuing its own press releases and starting programs like this:
“The IRS allows weight-loss write-offs only if, with medical expenses, they total at least 7.5 percent of the obese one’s adjusted gross income. Weight maintenance is a special circumstance and may or may not be allowed as a deduction. According to the IRS, once a condition is ‘cured,’ it is no longer deductible.”
We have a tax system that already supports most of the lawyers and paper mills in a country and it is becoming fatter than all the big fat idiots that made up this legislation in the first place. So somehow, through some miracle of accountancy, this is going to solve the bloat of the nation?
Nothing good can come of this. The government hasn’t quite come up with the campaign, the slogan or the bumper sticker, but I think you can all tell where we are headed – The War on Fat. Why? Well because the war on drugs has been so successful. Every administration from the George on the $1 bill to the George with the one-track mind has tried and failed at this. But hey we’ve still got a 10-2 record in wars so why not?
I think we should take the war on fat at least as seriously as the war on drugs. There is no use reinventing the wheel when we have some tried and true advertising square, all-terrain radials to work with.
Let’s start from the beginning – The Reagan years. “Bacon cheeseburgers, Just say No” Sure it’s going to be difficult; you’re out with your friends everybody is having a good time and then next thing you know you are in one of “those” places.
At first you think what the heck? Everybody else is doing it and well, I can stop any time I want. The next thing you know you wake up face down in a chili cheeseburger surrounded by empty Moon Pie wrappers in a kitchen you don’t recognize. You lose your home, your spouse and your job. And you have the guy from Wendy’s calling you up at all hours pimping patty melts to you if you’ll just help him move a little “product” down at the junior high.
Then of course we will graduate to the George the First and Bill the Fecund era: “This is your brain. This is your brain on trans-fatty acids (cut to computer-generated depictions of molecules with way too many carbons trying to squeeze through your arteries like an old Dachshund into a doggy sweater somebody left in the dryer too long).”
“Any questions?” Call Partners for a Fat Free America – call 1-800-FAT-ANON
Moving on to the current era, the campaign that stresses how many Columbian drug lords you are supporting through drug use is perfect for the war on fat.
“I just forced 10 million people into the humiliating position of having to wear funny paper hats and name tags in order to earn a living. And, that last super-sized fries I just ate supported illegal aliens harvesting potatoes in Idaho.”
Hey, I’m not picking on fat people. In fact, I’m feeling like I could use a pair of relaxed-fit jeans myself. Some of my best friends are a little rotund. You need to hate the sin, not the sinner yada yada ya, blahdy blahdy blah.