Getting Fries Right

[This entry is cross posted at ordinary-times.com]

“Eat a McDonald’s hamburger and you might be getting a mouth full of antibiotics, hormones, and dangerous bacteria.” The italics are mine. That’s from “What’s really in a McDonald’s hamburger?” by Robin Konie published at thatnkyourbody.com. The curious non-capitalized headline is theirs.

There was pink slime, but that’s either gone as an ingredient or renamed something like “pure real beef that we swear is organix” or something. “pure real…” should probably capitalized. It’s catching.

I think food fear mongering is funny. Mt Dew used to contain brominated vegetable oil. It doesn’t now because people accused Pepsi Co. of putting “flame retardant” in their sody pop even though they only used a meh 8 parts per million of the stuff when the FDA says up to 15 parts is fine. Never mind that Mt. Dew is a fire retardant, as anyone who’s ever doused a MORPG session ash tray fire can attest.

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The Chic-faux-Lay Sandwich

[This entry is cross posted at ordinary-times.com]

Can you plagiarize yourself? This is the third time I’ve written down the recipe and step by step for this sandwich. The first time I called it an “ersatz Chic-fil-A” because in ninth grade I read Tom Robbins’s Still Life with Woodpecker and his main character used a baptismal candle as an “ersatz” sexual aid. Robbins was transgressive in way that didn’t hit you over the head with a sledgehammer. He drove the phonies nuts.

I tried to re-read one of his novels a few years ago and confirmed only good books grow up with you. Still, the word “ersatz” stuck in my head and I use it more often than I should. I like the sound and the memory of stopping to go to the dictionary. The word seemed arcane to me. Now I have problems with Robbin’s usage. He’s saying the candle was an ersatz ersatz?

I used “Chic-fil-esque” in that article, which was an unwitting segue into my second go at this sandwich, the second go being my first possible plagiarism. In that one I called it a Chic-faux-a, visually mimicking the emphatic syllable divisions in “Chic-fil-A”, but without the “L” sound the satirical similarity is reliant on a slanted assonant rhyme like this is some kind of folk or contemporary pop song and readers deserve better.

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