Thoughts and epiphanies frequently visit. I’m a fortunate guy. Several months ago, I had a revelation about people in power or allegedly smart. Have any idea how many centuries and millennia have passed where the biggest brains and community leaders (rarely do you get both in the same package) espoused complete nonsense?
Guys in bone hats and amulets would assure the tribe that a slightly used virgin was needed for human sacrifice in order that crops would grow or the man in the moon would smile. Dances around bonfires were part of the process to motivate spring’s arrival. Captives and slaves were slaughtered by the millions to insure rainfall. All these learned humans with the chins jutting out in confidence would spout the damn dumbest things.
Dumber still, people would crouch in ooh-and-ahh poses, accepting it as science.
And now, we’re learning that a piping-hot, red, delicious, yummy, soul-satisfying juicy steak with piping-hot, red, delicious, yummy, soul-satisfying juicy steak juice is actually a double punch. Not only is it tasty, it’s good for you.
Just last week, the Annals (that’s two “N’s,” for our 8th-grade boy reader demographic) of Internal Medicine published a report stating that eating red meat, or even processed meat, isn’t bad for you.
This is the point in the column where I bend over and point my rural dusty butt to the nation’s health food outlets, wiggle it and point to a spot where they may plant their skinny, emaciated lips.
The AIM also pointed out that any link with red meat and ill health effects is remotely tenuous.
Of course, this prompted experts from the other side, the ones with the man buns and pursed lips from the Birkenstock-Wearing Hippie Institute Of Everything Is Bad For You We’re All Going To Die Horrible Deaths Tomorrow to hurriedly issue desperate Yeah-Buts.
Some diehard health nuts (like the ones who still think Hillary is president) still think red meat can clog your arteries.
“Then don’t stick red meat into your arteries, dummy,” is what I say. “Douse it with salt, A-1 Sauce, sautéed mushrooms, rub it in mashed potatoes and gravy, stick it in your mouth, close your eyes and moan as the good Lord intended.”
For the benefit of any useless government health department lacky reading, I might add, “Don’t forget to chew — 26 times for each bite — before you swallow.” You don’t want the wrong person thinking you should take a 24-ounce Porterhouse and gulp it down whole.
Swallowing steaks whole is simply for the Irish, the Jews, Tyrannosaurus rexes and individuals raised in large families.
Dear Mr. Santa Clarita Valley:
For far too long, our peoples have suffered silently. Oh yes. Unlike many racial and cultural groups, we’ve PRETENDED that we’re good-natured and have a sense of humor. We’ve put on a game face and laughed at our shared human foibles. No more, damn your eyes.
We are finally joining other victims’ groups in being outraged.
We are putting you and The Signal on alert that because of this column on the benefits of red meat, we are staging a Colon Die-In at College of the Canyons, tomorrow at noon in front of Dianne Van Hook’s office.
(It’s the third giant pyramid on the right.)
Anyone on mood-altering medication and who owns a cow costume is invited to attend. We will pretend the sidewalk is a big, giant barbecue grill and spend from noon-til-4 writhing, moaning and protesting Donald Trump as we pretend to slowly cook our senses of humor to death. We hope to raise awareness of the upcoming collapse of the Castaic Dam, which, as I’m sure you’re aware, was predicted in the Torah.
Father-Rabbi Shane Brian O’Rourke-Kestenbaum-Meltzer
President, Santa Clarita Valley Council
of Jewish-Irishmen, er, People
(Half rabbi, half padre.)
Hope to see you out there Saturday.
Did you know that a single BITE of red meat — and that includes hot dogs — includes 12 times the daily adult nutritional requirements? That means just eating 12 bites, or, 7 ounces per bite, results in you ingesting 144 times your daily minimum in luscious vitamins C, D, E, F, G, H, I, J, zinc, and, for girls, zinc-ette!
I feel stronger already.
I’m so happy.
Carnivores. Our day has come.
Have you ever been to an organic market or health food store? Glance around. Look at the people buying Brussels sprouts grown in Mongolian topsoil and spritzed by hand by Sherpas using only Perrier water. Have you ever seen anyone in a health food store who looks — happy?
And how can one BE happy munching on straw with the flavor removed served on a guava bean washed down by anything that’s NOT Coca-Cola?
I hope this is the beginning of a new era. Soon, science will open the great, dank prison and release the Twinkie, the Potato Chip, Haagen-Dazs ice cream and especially, the 4-Quart Double Peach Margarita (with a double shot of Cointreau) into the fresh and freeing sunlight where they naturally belong.
John Boston has penned more humor columns than anybody. At 230 pounds, he is the perfect weight for his height, which, as of press time, was 12-feet, 11 inches…