Primitive man expended enormous amounts of energy scouring the wild for food that was calorically sufficient to sustain the lives of he and his cave-dwelling family. Maybe he was able to hunt/gather what they required for day-to-day survival. Maybe not. Either way, he was – in all probability – burning more calories than he was taking in; almost certainly more often than not. In other words, he was by no means fat off the land. That said, I sincerely doubt there was much complaining going on. After all, who would’ve listened? Primitive man was as hardened as he was resourceful. He did what he had to do, and frequently perished while in pursuit of nourishment. Now, fast-forward some thousands of years…Modern-day man reclines lazily upon a chair placed in front of the big screen television in the rec room of his three bedroom, air-conditioned cave, beer n’ chips in hand, delivery pizza on the way, a hefty bowl of chocolate-syrup-covered Neapolitan ice cream on his mind. His frame is morbidly obese. He suffers from chronic indigestion, acid reflux, heartburn, and high blood pressure. His doctor warns him that he’s flirting hard with diabetes. And a lot of the time, he feels like utter shit. Depressed. “Could it really be my diet?,” he sometimes wonders before reaching for yet another handful of honey-roasted peanuts; until one day, that is, when, during a commercial for four-meat sub sandwiches, a sudden shot of pain courses through his left arm just before a tremendous, crushing weight in his chest sends him tumbling to the floor, where he collapses atop his glistening bacon cheeseburger dinner. He dies in grease.
By Jon Neralich