Thursday, February 12, 2009

Peanut Butter Dilemma

Well, what is this all about?

Dead rodents, excrement in peanut butter plant lead to recall

(CNN) -- The Texas Department of State Health Services on Thursday ordered the recall of all products ever shipped from the Peanut Corporation of America's plant in Plainview, Texas, after discovering dead rodents, rodent excrement and bird feathers in the plant.
How can peanut butter be considered "vegetarian" if there are rodent parts in it? You see, this is what raw unfettered dog-eat-dog survival-of-the-fittest capitalism is all about. It's about profits over people. (I just invented that phrase, incidentally.) It's about exploitation. And it's about what I did with my jar of contaminated peanut butter.

Last night, I curled up in front of the food co-op so I could be the first one in this morning. In fact, as it was my "turn" to be exploited in the store's dumpster duty, I was especially livid. And I of course had my peanut butter jar with me, contaminated with rodent parts.
(I did however eat the rodent excrement, as that is part of Nature's Cycle of Sustainability. As opposed to, say, the Zionist Cycle of Violence, where the Zionists cycle through ammunition on starving Palestinian babies.)

Furthermore, I needed to relieve myself overnight, so I deposited my precious so-called "waste" in the peanut butter jar.

So I burst into the store, smashed the jar open on the community bulletin board, and removed the evidence (with glass shards) with my soft, delicate, and knowing hands.

I then looked up at the ceiling, and let out a shriek of despair while rubbing the peanut butter, excrement (rodent and mine), and blood all over my face and beard.


Still shrieking, I approached the manager and spat in his murderous capitalist face: "Do you see this peanut butter? Do you see this blood? Do you see my face? This is the look of RESISTANCE! Do you understand me?"

Before he could offer me reparations, I collapsed from the intensity of the battle.

I awoke later, gently resting on a park bench, with the entire contents of my intestinal tract delightfully absorbed in my recycled clothing. I walked to the laundromat, undressed, and placed my clothing on a folding table. After wringing my vital juices out of them and into a cup for later consumption, I placed my pants into a machine, during someone else's mid-cycle (to save energy), and fell asleep, dreaming of being very close to our new President.

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