Posted by Kurt Wilde | Posted in | Posted on 12:05 AM
540 calories, 32 grams of fat, 1380 milligrams of sodium, 53 grams of protein. That’s the butcher’s bill delivered by the two filets of fried chicken, two slices of bacon, two slices of Monterey and pepper jack cheese, and special sauce that make up Kentucky Fried Chicken’s infamous gut busting “Double Down” sandwich. By now the shock of this product has dimmed and many people, in fact, have forgotten it completely. The motivation behind KFC’s decision to offer and market that product is their own. However, in an era where media awareness is focused on healthier dining options and the alarming increase in type-II diabetes, profit feels like an insufficient explanation. Indeed, it seems that by conceptualizing and marketing the “double down” sandwich, KFC was essentially thumbing their nose at what the public understands to be responsible dietary decisions. But to consider this sandwich on a purely dietary level would be both unsophisticated and unimaginative. What makes the “double down” significant is not its artery clogging capacity, but rather, its embrace of the excess with which we, as a people, saturate our lives.
Why bring up old news? The “double down” has been on the menu for more than six months, people have not only forgotten about it, they don’t care. Direction. Simply stated, the sole intention of this post is to create a heading and set the tone for what this space will encompass. Excess is ingrained in the American psyche as much as a desire for companionship, social approval, and the drive for vertical social mobility. We own more cars, television sets, and internet connections per household than every other country in the world. The American consumer market determines design trends, manufacturing standards, and drives pop culture. And we don’t even build shit anymore. If we don’t need, we buy it. The minimalism advocated by Thoreau and more recently explored by Christopher McCandless, despite the current economic condition, is not congruent with our foreseeable future. Indulging in excess is the modern nature.
This isn’t a critique, it’s a statement, and much like the “double down,” it’s an embrace of our condition, our drive to have more than we need. I certainly don’t need this space, I want it, and as such I’ll have it. Central to our cultural identity, complimenting excess, is the belief in our own self importance. This isn’t a flaw. It’s actually reinforced by our own governing documents. Everyone has the freedom to say and print what they choose. Anyone can be President. The explosion of social networking championed by my generation is evidence of our willingness to put our lives on blast, make ourselves accessible to public domain. This space, for me, is an extension that character trait. It doesn’t matter to me if you agree with what I say, if you want to read it, or if you actually read it or not. After all, we are the culture that has given Snooki her OWN TV show, proving once again there is no basement.
I am a product of my environment therefore and am compelled to share.
My name is Kurt Wilde and this is the pose I assume.
