Uh oh. It’s happened again. Someone in Scotland has put fake meth on cupcakes in homage to Breaking Bad. After criticism from the local press the bakery responsible for the cupcake has discontinued their production.
Rebel Donut, here in Albuquerque where Breaking Bad was filmed, has offered a Breaking Bad donut with blue icing and sugary crystal-meth like sprinkles for over a year now to no public outcry or serious media questioning. Puffery pieces, is what Slate calls the coverage of drug-themed desserts. Slate is calling for a little more gravitas…because drug addiction isn’t funny.
In other drug news, Dr. Carl Hart, a psychologist at Columbia University has completed a study in which results seem to indicate that drug addicts are much more rational thinkers than we think…that hopelessness fuels drug use more than any insatiable, irresistible addiction to crack or meth and that we demonize the drugs and afford them inordinate power because that’s easier than dealing with the root problems of societal dysfunction, economic collapse and oppression.
This begs the question…if a drug addict was presented with a dozen really fresh, delicious donuts covered with actual crystal meth and they had to choose either the donut or the meth…might they possibly choose the donut? Yes! This study says.
Back in Victorian days the drug of choice was opium. A tiny bakery in London probably made puddings with fake dope on it to be funny. Honestly I probably would have laughed a little, not being an opium addict myself and finding puddings funny to begin with. But then I guess if I was eating the pudding and inadvertently popped into a squalid opium den on the way home, I might feel differently. Humor is difficult that way–it’s a sensibility built on incongruency and absurdities (including the absurdity of our own smallness) and it serves to relieve tension around the terrifying, seeming insanity of life. So sometimes I get mad when dark humor is beaten to death with the propriety stick.
Other people’s drug of choice is coffee, alcohol, nicotine, dopamines, theobromine, tryptophan, oxytocin or mid-century modern furniture.
Do you know what’s also bad? Rum cakes and bread puddings that contain actual alcohol. Not to mention beers, wines and liquors that contain alcohol. Also cakes decorated with cigarette butts. Or a fresh garden salad with a big pile of donuts and gravy on top.
Then there’s fast food which is addictive in itself and leads to proliferations of certain, dastardly, fat-making microflora in our intestinal tract.
So the question is how do we separate food from drugs and drugs from food? Sometimes they seem so enmeshed.
Let’s go to an interview with an anonymous person I met at Michael Thomas Coffee who has some really strong opinions.
Spartan Holiday: So is there a difference between food and drugs? Seriously.
Guy: Well there’s the food and drug administration. So if they’re the same thing, that wouldn’t make sense because it’s redundant.
SH: That’s a good argument. But does food destroy lives?
Well without food you starve, and without drugs you could also die, when sick I mean, so again… similar. In that sense food and drugs both destroy lives by not being readily available.
SH: But that’s the opposite of what I was asking.
Exactly. Food and drugs both destroy lives and save lives. It’s a paradox.
SH: I don’t think that’s the definition of a paradox
Are you going to eat that biscotti?
SH: Yes. But what about addictive drugs? Recreational drugs?
Eating is also recreational. But, see, the thing with recreational drugs is…they’re really fun, but you don’t need them to survive.
SH: Right! So that’s kind of what I’m getting at…
But you also don’t need donuts or beer to survive. And that’s food. Except for the beer which is both.
SH: Now we’re right back where we started.
That’s the nature of a paradox.
SH: Okay, just tell me which is more offensive. The actual cupcake or the non-actual crystal meth on top?
I am equally offended by both. But I’m easily offended. Meatloaf shaped like handguns…not cool. Bananas flambe…not cool. Pornographic pastas shapes, not cool. Gum shredded and packaged like chewing tobacco. Not cool.
SH: Candy cigarettes…
Not cool. Tofu shaped like turkey. not cool.
SH: Okay, I’m going to shout out something and you tell me if it’s a food or drug.
SH: Pumpkin Seeds.
SH: Poppy Seeds
SH: Special brownies
SH: Baby Corn
SH: I’m not really sensing any patterns here.
Yeah. But I think there are patterns. You just need to know where to look.
SH: Have you read that new study out of Columbia University about drugs not being as irresistible as we think they are?
Yeah, the guy offered meth addicts another hit or a $20 bill to be paid at a later date and they chose the $20. Probably for their drug budget though…like they were building a kitty to spend on future drugs. Do you know what was really interesting about that article?
It quotes a guy named Dr. Nutt. I don’t think I would tell people my name, if my name was Dr. Nutt.
SH: Or you could change your name.
That takes a lot of legal doing. It would be easier just not to tell people your name. You could just say, “Hello. I’m a doctor in neuropyscho stuff. Pleased to meet you.”
SH: But take this scenario. Hi my name is Andrea… what is your name?
Hello Betty, I’m a doctor.
SH: Alright. Yeah. Well anyway, do you have any concluding remarks about food vis a vis drugs?
Just that drugs aren’t funny. Food is not funny. The whole act of eating and defecating is not funny, just as our mortality and general body processes are not funny. We’re all going to die someday and we’re all going to die alone. Then everyone who ever knew us is also going to die and at that point we’ll truly cease to exist as anything other than a infinitesimal part of the historic human collective.
SH: Yeah, I know what you mean. I was thinking the same thing last night when I wanted an ice cream cone and realized Dave had eaten all of the ice cream.
This is pretty much where the interview ended. I didn’t learn much of anything from the anonymous person but he did give me $20 for my biscotti. I think he wanted to see if I’d go get twelve more biscotti with it, which I did not.
Anyway, I don’t like being experimented on, and I left the coffee shop pretty annoyed.
This is my new office by the way–the neighborhood coffee shop, until I get interwebs at home. I have an elaborate plan to not get addicted to coffee working here. My elaborate plan involves drinking tea instead.