The Corned Beef Conspiracy: Ireland Doesn’t Exist And St. Patrick Is The Meaty Equivalent Of Mrs. Butterworth
Just as Hallmark created Valentine’s Day so they could sell cards and De Beers invented the concept of marriage in order to give false value to diamonds, March seventeenth has forever become entwined with this strange salted meat, despite said meat having no basis in traditional Irish cuisine, because there is no such thing as Ireland, and therefore no such thing as traditional Irish cuisine, as we will soon see.
Oh, and also this: Colorado Premium, a company specializing in meat processing solutions, created Ireland and the myth of St. Patrick in order to sell corned beef. It’s not crazy at all. Think real hard. Do you know anyone who’s been to Ireland? Do you know anyone who’s met St. Patrick? Didn’t think so. Let’s have a look.
Colorado Premium happens to be one of the world’s largest producers of corned beef, and they also happen to have a picture of a guy wearing a hard hat on their ‘About Us’ page.
Why in the name of fictional St. Patrick’s sheleighleigh would anyone dealing with meat need a hard hat? Meat, and generally any solutions pertaining to it, involve softness. A hard hat seems like something someone who is anticipating a visit to a construction site would wear. Since construction sites aren’t necessary to meat, that means this whole thing is an Illuminati conspiracy. You see, Colorado Premium is run by Kevin LaFluer. LaFluer is a French name. France touches Germany. The Illuminati was founded in 1776 in………….Germany.
Moving right along: a quick scan of Colorado Premium’s ‘Partners‘ page shows standard industry meat alliances—Tyson Foods, Cargill Meat Solutions, Smithfield Beef Group, etc.—except for one: Tapatio Hot Sauce?
What are Tapatio Hot Sauce and a prolific corned beef producer doing in bed together?
Why, they are both shadowy victual fronts veiling the sinister plot intended to further screw the clueless herd of sheep that is the American people, of course.
In what way? Well the guy in the hard hat is obviously building something, and Tapatio Hot Sauce just isn’t that good. So we have an industrious producer of corned beef partnering with a company that makes inferior salsa picante. That means something. Corned beef. Hot sauce. Hot sauce. Corned beef. Corned sauce. Hot beef. Corned hot beef sauce.
Colorado Premium is taking that salsa picante partnership cash and using it to build a moat filled with disgusting Tapatio Hot Sauce around the United States in order to keep us
from leaving. Why do ‘They’ (Colorado Premium, Tapatio, and the Illuminati) want to keep us in? It’s pretty obvious. If the lie about Ireland is exposed, the corned beef gravy train comes grinding to a halt. Since the Earth is flat, you should be able to look out from the east coast and see the Emerald Isle. One glance and you’ll notice it’s simply not there. ‘St. Patrick’ is just the meaty equivalent of Mrs. Butterworth. Guinness is Michelob Golden tinted with discarded beef drippings.
So there you go. Hallmark, De Beers, Colorado Premium, Taptio, and the Illuminati all want you to keep buying things because they created a way for you to buy them.
Wake up America.
There are holidays going on this month. Kwanzaa, Hanukah, New Year’s Eve, Festivus, the winter solstice, Bodhi Day, and probably the biggest one, the birth of Philip K. Dick. Not much else. Unless you want to count the birth of Philip K. Dick’s twin sister, whose tragic passing at the age of six weeks provided a tremendous influence on the writing of her surviving brother.
As you make your way through this celebration-stuffed month, you may come across certain folks that get angry if you don’t wish them a ‘happy’ whatever holiday they celebrate, whether it’s Boxing Day or the anniversary of Pearl Harbor. And this is your fault, because it is December, after all, and if you are unable to take one look at a person and not know what holiday greeting they wish to receive, then, well, why are we even here.
So why not do this: wish people a ‘happy’ whatever is you enjoy, and don’t be mad if they wish you a ‘happy’ something else in return. After all, you will both be wishing each other happiness. Be happy about that. However, if someone becomes hostile and says ‘death to Iowa for growing corn instead of mangos, because we need mangos for National Fruitcake Day on December 27th’ just play it cool, and politely inform them that Iowa doesn’t have the proper terroir to support a bountiful mango harvest. Then maybe share a mango and read about corn together on the internet. You are now friends with someone who wanted to kill you five minutes ago.
I have somehow avoided all of this, even though I have been wishing people my religion’s greeting for some time now (it should be noted that I have recently converted from Discordianism to Pastafarianism). In my new belief system, every Friday is considered a holiday. I’ve been wishing people of all religions a ‘Happy Friday’ for months now, and no one has been offended. It seems that the loving, noodly appendage of our Flying Spaghetti Monster has reached down and wiped away the hate among people who believe some days are better than others, for not one person has corrected me with something to the effect of “Not everyone celebrates Fridays. You should really just wish people happy days.” So maybe people are just more accepting of Pastafarianism, or the key is to dwell in particulars when wishing someone ‘happy something,’ instead of cramming all holidays together into one giant fruitcake of a greeting. I don’t know.
The lesson of this whole thing is to just be happy, dammit. And also, instantly know the beliefs of everyone you come into contact with and accommodate them accordingly.
Today is Women’s Equality Day. Today is also National Dog Day.
My Facebook feed looks like this:
Posts about dogs=a lot.
Posts about Women’s Equality Day=0.
So, have I unwittingly become entwined in some sort of sick dog-worshipping misogynistic social circle, or is this happening in the Facebook feeds of everyone else, too?
Comment below, or not.
Thank you Mother for allowing me to live in your womb for nine months. And then taking the time to give birth to me. I appreciate it.
Women are alright in my book. I used to live inside of one.
Yesterday was International Women’s Day, and we’re going to keep the party raging, all weekend if necessary.
These are just a few songs I’ve been listening to a lot lately. All the singers are gals.
Wild Belle—It’s Too Late. It’s reggae-y.
Little Daylight—Overdose. It’s electronic-y.
Arcade Fire—Sprawl II (Mountains Beyond Mountains)
In honor of Christopher Columbus, I went exploring the other day. I drove south and discovered Minneapolis. Though I did forget to demand gold from the natives and cut off their hands when they didn’t bring me enough. Next time.
It’s August 8. Have you been keeping up with your New Year’s resolution(s)? Did you lose weight, get a new job, read a book, join a gym, mentor someone, find a mentor, spend more time with your family, quit smoking, get out of debt, give to charity, tickle a midget, eat more vegetables, plan a dream vacation, control your anger problems, ride a bike, see what gerbil tastes like, watch less TV, knife-fight a hobo, become more involved in your community, walk more, run more, let a friendly puppy lick peanut butter off your nipples, use the stairs instead of the elevator, eat more whole grains, talk to a long-lost friend, eat less fast food, compliment a stranger, ride around in the back of a pickup truck picking off stray dogs with a shotgun, or make any discernible effort to improve yourself at all?