Sage Advice | Fuck! To Political Allegories and Fuck! To McDonald’s / Goodbye Forever

Sage Advice | Fuck! To Political Allegories and Fuck! To McDonald’s / Goodbye Forever

“Many people have strong views on McDonald’s.”

- Steve Easterbrook, CEO of McDonald’s

Well, folks. It’s been a rollercoaster. Bringing you advice these past months has been a blast. We’ve had some hits, and more than a few stinkers. We’ve laughed, cried, broken up, got back together – and some of us even found true love. This week’s advice was emailed to me, and is more of a rant, but there is definitely some wisdom in there. It comes to us from ‘Matt’.

“The recent election has me all burnt-out. I am extremely sick of politics – the commentary, the satire, the cartoons, the analysis, and the allegories – all of it. I need to take my mind off it for a while, so I thought I’d make something to eat. I’m a growing boy, after all.

I am making a sandwich. It’s going to weigh at least 610 grams. It’s a big ass sandwich. It’s an important ass sandwich. But here’s the problem: I’ve only got four ingredients to choose from. I had some sauces in the fridge I could’ve used, but they’ve all dried up. All that remains of them are crusty specks on the bottom and around the lids. They’ve all gone. Oh well. Four ingredients it is. Good news, two of them go great together, avocado and red cherry tomatoes. Hooray! But, oh damn, that only weighs 520 grams. I need to add something else. Oh ok, over here is some good ol’ blue cheese, made with Fonterra (TRADEMARKED 2017) dairy products. I’ve been eating this brand of cheese for almost a decade. It’s a bit rich, very goopy, and frankly after many years of eating this brand of sloppy, slightly suspect cheese, I’d like to remind myself what other foods taste like. Not to mention my doctor says I’m developing scurvy. And oh jeez, there’s only 580 grams of cheese left to use anyway, what a pity.

Avocado, tomato, and goopy blue cheese can’t go together in a sandwich. They just can’t – it ends up too sloppy and everything just falls on the floor, staining my lovely freshly-pressed pants. Mother would not approve. So it’s either avocado and tomato or scurvy-inducing blue cheese that will have to go with the fourth, and final ingredient I have in the cupboard... Prunes! Big, drooping, wrinkly prunes grown from up North. Ah! What a dilemma. Prunes with blue cheese? It’s definitely doable, but I think it’d give me gas for days. Prunes with avocado and tomato? Um, maybe. The citrusy tang of the tomato might complement the dark, earthy prune juices. Maybe? The prunes might not go so well with the avocado though. It might all taste weird in my mouth and make me spit it out, onto my lovely aforementioned pants and shiny new shoes. Mother would not be pleased, no, no. I would receive the belt, and rightly so. I might be able to hold it all down, though. I just can’t tell.

But after all is said and done, it all comes down to what the prunes want to do. Somehow, don’t ask me how, this bag of prunes has a will and influence that is much stronger than mine. It seems it’s out of my hands now. The prunes will decide what else goes in the sandwich. I didn’t even want to help make this pathetic sandwich anyway, but then my lovely Mother yelled at me and told me my ancestors fought eyes-deep in the curdled blood and shit of WWII and Vietnam for my right to make this sandwich. ‘You’ll eat it and like it! Without well-made sandwiches, this whole world fucking burns!’ I was told. The echoes of voices from past centuries – when sandwiches were still illegal – haunted my thoughts until I developed nervous diarrhoea and finally agreed to help make the sandwich, with honour.

But in the end, I had very little say in how things went. I might as well have gone to McDonald’s and purchased a sandwich from that most villainous of fiends, Ronald McDonald. A big ‘Fuck!’ to McDonald’s and a big ‘Fuck! You!’ to Ronald McDonald. I am well aware of Ronald McDonald’s charitable works: Ronald McDonald House, etc. – but this does not make him immune from criticism. Ronald McDonald is racist. He is the ‘black-face’ equivalent for red-haired individuals like myself. It is racist, and it’s a disgrace. Fuck Ronald McDonald. Racist ass bitch. Red wig wearing ass bitch. Is this what you think redheads look like? Skin whiter than milk, sunburned nose and lips? Stereotyping motherfucker. Bigoted ass motherfucker. I’m calling you out, McDonald. Anytime, anywhere. Fuck you McDonald. I will see you soon. Then it will be Goodbye forever.”

This article first appeared in Issue 26, 2017.
Posted 1:21pm Sunday 8th October 2017 by Mat Clarkson.