Many years ago I found out something about hamburgers that really grossed me out. You may not know this, so I hope I don't make you sick, but it turns out hamburgers are actually made out of dead cows. I am not making this up. Needless to say, as soon as I discovered that, I gave up meat entirely.
Feed on these motherfuckers homie, come on -Royce Da 5'9">nowadays-when-niggaz-walk-around-they-start-to-look-like-hamburgers-frankfurters-aiyyo-royce-da-59-feed-on-these-motherfuckers-homie-come-on-royce-da-59
All of a sudden America wasn't about hamburgers and hot rods anymore. It was about the Mayflower and Plymouth Rock. It was about something that had happened for two minutes four hundred years ago, instead of everything that had happened since. Instead of everything that was happening now!
Forests and meat animals compete for the same land. The prodigious appetite of the affluent nations for meat means that agribusiness can pay more than those who want to preserve or restore the forest. We are, quite literally, gambling with the future of our planet "" for the sake of hamburgers
I was a mother who worked ridiculously hard to keep catastrophe at bay. I didn't allow my kids to eat hamburgers for fear of E. coli. I didn't allow them to play with rope, string, balloons - anything that might strangle them. They had to bite grapes in half, avoid lollipops, eat only when I could watch them.
The life's work of Walt Disney and Ray Kroc had come full-circle, uniting in perfect synergy. McDonald's began to sell its hamburgers and french fries at Disney's theme parks. The ethos of McDonaldland and of Disneyland, never far apart, have finally become one. Now you can buy a Happy Meal at the Happiest Place on Earth.
Now you've got people who don't really have the skills, because technology hides it, going out and putting these crappy singles out, and because that's all there really is, people basically eat it like hamburgers. It's become very, very commercialized. Which wouldn't bother me as much if people actually had talent. When I listen to something and the first thing I notice is that it's been turned into crap, I shut it off and throw it out the window of my car. Like it's the most offensive thing to me.
If Abstract Expression reached for the sublime, Pop turned ordinary imagery into icons. Roy Lichtenstein and Andy Warhol illuminated the transformative power of context and the process of reproduction. Claes Oldenburg's soft ice-cream cones and hamburgers changed sculpture from hard to soft, from stasis to transformation.
Liberals state that many teenagers would rather sell crack for $100 an hour than to flip hamburgers for a minimum wage. Using the same liberal logic, you might think it would make more sense for the average middle-class worker to rob banks rather than work a forty-hour week? The reason why most people, rich and poor, do not commit crimes because they know it is wrong to do so.
What is worrisome about that is the U.S. standard of living. I think it is very difficult to envision our standard of living being preserved if we are in an economy where all people do is flip hamburgers, wait on people in stores, and sue each other. It's not much of a basis for an economy.
When cattle ranchers clear rain forests to raise beef to sell to fast-food chains that make hamburgers to sell to Americans, who have the highest rate of heart disease in the world (and spend the most money per GNP on health care), we can say easily that business is no longer developing the world. We have become its predator.
The United Nations four or five years ago put out a study that said the meat industry, meat-eating, growing meat for food is the No. 1 killer of our planet - not No. 2 or No. 3: No 1. You know what's No. 2? Transportation. Everyone thinks that No. 1 is transportation, and goes out and buys a hybrid car. Screw the hybrid cars. Don't eat hamburgers.
Seeing no better jobs on the horizon than flipping hamburgers with so much grease it would make Portugal, Italy, and Spain jealous, I decided to go back to school. It reminds me of something Zelda's mom told her in November 2007: 'Some people flip condos and make millions. Your boyfriend couldn't even flip burgers and make minimum wage.
I stole a bit of a chopped vegetable and was about to put it in my mouth when Jae's long fingers closed over my wrist. 'What? You can't eat this raw?' 'It's bitter melon. You won't like it.' He went into the fridge and came out with something that looked halfway familiar. 'Here, leftover bao. There's char siu inside.' 'The red pork stuff? Yeah, I like that. I thought it was Chinese.' 'It is. We also eat hamburgers and spaghetti.
Tell you what," I said. "After the testing after the Demon Days, when things settle down -" "Things won't settle down." "- I'm going to take you to the mall." She blinked. "The mall? For what reason?" "To hang out," I said. "We'll get some hamburgers. See a movie." Zia hesitated. "Is this what you'd call a 'date'?" My expression must have been priceless, because Zia actually cracked a smile. "You look like a cow hit with a shovel.
It is not true that there is dignity in all work. Some jobs are definitely better than others.... People who have good jobs are happy, rich, and well dressed. People who have bad jobs are unhappy, poor and use meat extenders. Those who seek dignity in the type of work that compels them to help hamburgers are certain to be disappointed.
Why is McDonalds still counting? How insecure is this company? 40 million, 80 billion million jillion killion tillion... who cares? Is anyone really impressed by that any more? Ooh, 89 billion sold? All right, I'll have one! I'm satisfied! I'd like to tell the CEO of McDonalds, Look. We all get it, okay? You've sold a lot of hamburgers. Whatever the number is, just put up a sign, 'McDonalds: We're Doing Very Well.' We are tired of hearing about every goddamn one of them.
On the road, I eat hamburgers every day. The team tries to get me to eat differently, but no. Burgers, burgers, burgers. I like burgers. McDonald's burgers. Wendy's burgers. Burger King burgers. There's this one place in Canada--I even look at the schedule to find out when we play there--best burger I've ever tasted. Real soft and sweet. I ate twelve of them in one night.
I'm not a good faster. My friends have visions of God, I have visions of hamburgers. The only time I watch the Food Channel is when I'm fasting. It's pitiful. We did a 40 day fast. I bought 29 cookbooks. I don't cook, but the pictures! I bought a deep-fryer and we don't eat deep-fried food!
and Lucy." She looked like she might cry. 'What about her?' "Lucy smells like food." She nearly gagged saying it. 'Sol, all that's normal. Lucy smelled good before I turned, and now she smells even better. But I haven't tried to eat her face and neither will you.' "She's not safe in this house." 'Safer than out there, ' I argued, even though I agreed with her. 'Look, you used to eat hamburgers.' She blinked, confused. "So?" 'So, did you ever walk through one of the farms at a field party and suddenly try to eat a cow?' "Um, no." Her chuckle was watery but it was better than nothing. "And, ew." 'Exactly. You can crave blood and not eat your best friend.
Pop is everything art hasn't been for the last two decades...It springs newborn out of a boredom with the finality and over-saturation of Abstract-Expressionism, which, by its own esthetic logic, is the END of art, the glorious pinnacle of the long pyramidal creative process. Stifled by this rarefied atmosphere, some young painters turn back to some less exalted things like Coca-Cola, ice-cream sodas, big hamburgers, super-markets and 'EAT' signs. They are eye-hungry; they pop...
Clear-cutting" was the word for what the Rusties had done to the old forests: felling every tree, killing every living thing, turning entire countries into grazing land. Whole rain forests had been consumed, reduced from millions of interlocking species to a bunch of cows eating grass, a vast web of life traded for cheap hamburgers. "Look, we're not clear-cutting. All we're doing is pulling out the garbage that the Rusties left behend," David said. "It just takes a little surgery to do it.
The carnistic schema, which twists information so that nonsense seems to make perfect sense, also explains why we fail to see the absurdities of the system. Consider, for instance, advertising campaigns in which a pig dances joyfully over the fire pit where he or she is to be barbecued, or chickens wear aprons while beseeching the viewer to eat them. And consider the Veterinarian's Oath of the American Veterinary Medical Association, 'I solemnly swear to use my... skills for the... relief of animal suffering, ' in light of the fact that the vast majority of veterinarians eat animals simply because they like the way meat tastes. Or think about how poeple won't replace their hamburgers with veggie burgers, even if the flavor is identical, because they claim that, if they try hard enough, they can detect a subtle difference in texture. Only when we deconstruct the carnistic schema can we see the absurdity of placing our preference for a flawless re-creation of a textural norm over the lives and deaths of billions of others.
These computer simulations try only to duplicate the interactions between the cortex and the thalamus. Huge chunks of the brain are therefore missing. Dr. [Dharmendra] Modha understands the enormity of his project. His ambitious research has allowed him to estimate what it would take to create a working model of the entire human brain, and not just a portion or a pale version of it, complete with all parts of the neocortex and connections to the senses. He envisions using not just a single Blue Gene computer [with over a hundred thousand processors and terabytes of RAM] but thousands of them, which would fill up not just a room but an entire city block. The energy consumption would be so great that you would need a thousand-megawatt nuclear power plant to generate all the electricity. And then, to cool off this monstrous computer so it wouldn't melt, you would need to divert a river and send it through the computer circuits. It is remarkable that a gigantic, city-size computer is required to simulate a piece of human tissue that weighs three pounds, fits inside your skull, raises your body temperature by only a few degrees, uses twenty watts of power, and needs only a few hamburgers to keep it going.
The television commercial has mounted the most serious assault on capitalist ideology since the publication of Das Kapital. To understand why, we must remind ourselves that capitalism, like science and liberal democracy, was an outgrowth of the Enlightenment. Its principal theorists, even its most prosperous practitioners, believed capitalism to be based on the idea that both buyer and seller are sufficiently mature, well informed and reasonable to engage in transactions of mutual self-interest. If greed was taken to be the fuel of the capitalist engine, the surely rationality was the driver. The theory states, in part, that competition in the marketplace requires that the buyer not only knows what is good for him but also what is good. If the seller produces nothing of value, as determined by a rational marketplace, then he loses out. It is the assumption of rationality among buyers that spurs competitors to become winners, and winners to keep on winning. Where it is assumed that a buyer is unable to make rational decisions, laws are passed to invalidate transactions, as, for example, those which prohibit children from making contracts... Of course, the practice of capitalism has its contradictions... But television commercials make hash of it... By substituting images for claims, the pictorial commercial made emotional appeal, not tests of truth, the basis of consumer decisions. The distance between rationality and advertising is now so wide that it is difficult to remember that there once existed a connection between them. Today, on television commercials, propositions are as scarce as unattractive people. The truth or falsity of an advertiser's claim is simply not an issue. A McDonald's commercial, for example, is not a series of testable, logically ordered assertions. It is a drama-a mythology, if you will-of handsome people selling, buying and eating hamburgers, and being driven to near ecstasy by their good fortune. No claim are made, except those the viewer projects onto or infers from the drama. One can like or dislike a television commercial, of course. But one cannot refute it.