Editors note: Today’s column is purely an imaginative work of satire and invention.

Suddenly scientists are saying fat is catching, even from afar. You must have seen the alarming headline, “Obesity Is Socially Contagious – If You’re Fat, Blame Your Friends.” This is cruel, unkind, unfair and definitely inhuman. Next we’ll be hearing fat’s a crime against the state. Soon fat people will get herded into federal fat camps to starve down to nothing like the feds treated, well, Hurricane Katrina survivors. These federal fat camps are cheerful places, you know, where they punish you by mandatory “re-education,” periodic beheading, or occasional amputation of the offending bodily part. If this isn’t the Nazification of health, I don’t know what is.

Eugenics R Us!

So, if your family and friends are fat, watch out. You’ll be forbidden to ever see each other again, never hang out, don’t congregate, forget family reunions or shared vacations, no more chubby hubbies, zaftig wives, pleasingly plump girlfriends, stocky swains, bearish buddies – goodbye forever. Positively no more communication, especially e-mails. Verboten! Sig heil!

Soon, FEMA will be renamed Fat Emergency Management Agency and similarly retooled along those lines. Those fat folks the feds don’t starve down to nothing will be forcibly liposuctioned to an officially mandated sylph-like silhouette. Federal standards of acceptable body mass will be established, overseen by the Department of Weights and Measures. Jowls, beer bellies, flab, love handles, cellulite, overhang, jiggle and even lowly sitzfleisch get reclassified as felonies punishable by fine and imprisonment. Reportedly, the death penalty will be reserved for repeat offenders.

Those who habitually indulge in see-saw dieting get ticketed – switching lanes arbitrarily from Jenny Craig to NutriSystem to the Zone Diet to the Pritikin Diet to the South Beach Diet to the Reverse Diet, without using turn signals, is a severe no-no to be avoided under penalty of trial and imprisonment. If convicted, your Eating License will be confiscated and suspended.

To divert the momentarily grieving masses, free Prozac will be handed out as heart-balm at sporting events, and government-sponsored T-shirts will be sold with the slogans:




Instead of your fat former friends and loved ones, you’ll be forced to surround yourself with thin, rich, successful … bores. As a consequence of this superficial sensibility, you’ll become endlessly narcissistic, and your car insurance rates will skyrocket since you have traffic accident after traffic accident because you’re always looking at yourself in every available mirror on your vehicle. Your body becomes covered with those tiny telltale bruises from constantly measuring your Body Mass Index with those awful calipers.

If our culture was trivial before, you ain’t seen nothing yet. Here comes the Olympics of Shallowness! A pandemic of pointless new reality TV shows servicing this topic, along the lines of “Fat Survivor.” But no more “Fat American Idol”! Boo-hoo! The phrase “fat and happy” will be purged from all dictionaries.

Meanwhile, with his unerring instinct for sniffing out outstanding feminine pulchritude, my fond friend, “Freddy from Fresno,” not his real name, has pronounced Lindsay Lohan the most beautiful girl in the world. Anyway, since I equate “Freddy” with “Everyman” in these situations, I have a sinking feeling she will be the mannequin-depressive all other chicks are physically compared with, and those who don’t measure up get tossed aside, taking up temporary residences in Dumpsters, before being put out on ice floes – are there any left after global warming? – to, um, die.

As for guys, well, the role of officially sanctioned government body-deity is still open, and even as I type this, they are taking applications, so hop to it, guys!

And what about all that free-floating fat constantly liposuctioned off from obese Americans? Well, those festering rumors about the reputed existence of huge steaming vats of lipo-fat turn out to be … true. And, adding injury to insult, supposedly, American automobile manufacturers are stampeding in droves to create car models that run efficiently on liposuction fat, and surely this country has an endless supply.

Psychics predict gargantuan future profits for the Lipo-Car!

Certainly, despite the usual coterie of politically correct naysayers perpetually harshing the public’s buzz, legions of people believe this phobic fat-hunt is actually a positive albeit neo-Darwinian development for civilization. “Hey dude, could YOU really stand going anywhere near a car that runs on chicken poop?” sneers a nasty skinny guy waiting in line at the drive-in bank, adding, “I don’t think so.”

Next up for federal supervision? Ziti, I mean, Zits!

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