Big Mac Buddha

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Once, when he was giving the intellectual community yet another well-deserved kick in the pants, George Orwell observed more or less, "There is no such thing as philosophy on an empty stomach." Ruminations, however astute, have their requirements, even if it's just Twinkies.

The accuracy of the observation is sometimes lost in the haste to bring negative or positive observations to bear. Where a certain humility might be well-deserved, instead the tongue rolls out endless ribbons of wisdom pro or con. Fulminations, hosannas, and pretzeled intellectual gyrations go to the top of The Important Heap without ever a backward glance: Where would all this be without the blessings of a Big Mac?

I've got nothing against fulminations, hosannas and pretzeled intellectual gyrations (what the hell, it's more fun than laugh-tracked television shows), but there is also something absurd about making these assertions without acknowledging the god who makes them possible. Confronted by such an observation, the mind recoils at the utter simplicity of it all: "I'm more important than that!" "This is seeerious!" "Let's not elevate the life of a simpleton!" "Let's not reduce everything to the lowest common denominator!" "I know all that ... now listen to this!"

"I know!"

"I understand!"

OK ... it's fun.

But how can anyone assure a bit of peace when the best they can do is have fun?
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