I had an hour or two to kill and decided to visit the mall nearby. Why not? It had air conditioning, and the tropical weather out side, trying to set my hair on fire, kinda pushed me in. The fellow humanoids coming in and out of the polished glossy stores appeared to be happy and contented living a dream that somebody had put in their brains.
Over 90% of the consultants were tuned women bathing in the dirty looks of bald men walking around with their wives and fat kids.
In the South corner a middle-aged piano player was smoothly pressing the keys of a classic white royal. The sounds were meant to make the shopping experience more romantic, adventurous and captivating. What a fairy tale. The mall spell was on.
The songs of the piano man were generic and politically correct, but even that’s better than constantly hearing little pieces from other people’s conversations.
Guess what, bro? I don’t want to hear your daily drama. Your dad bought you the white tablet instead of the black one and is banging the secretary and the neighbor. I am sorry, but I just don’t care. Go cry to mommy, plan a blackmail based revenge or just write about it in your blog like I would do, but don’t fill my head with worthless data.
The piano man did not seem happy to me. There was something melancholic about his gestures. Most piano men are like that by default, but I was convinced there was more to the story.
The piano has many octaves making it a versatile instrument. You can be a one man orchestra thanks to the wide range. Pianos are also quite heavy and immobile, even if your name is Big Ron Coleman. People who choose this instrument are more likely to prefer isolation, I suppose.
Maybe the guy was heartbroken because he was playing in a soulless mall in front of mothers changing diapers of spoiled children? Perhaps he was also jealous of his former classmates who were filling large music halls in Paris?
Of course, it’s possible that I was completely wrong, and he was simply too invested into the song and thrilled to play regardless of his audience. I don’t know. I didn’t give it much thought because I wanted to go to the electronic store as fast as possible and stuff my soul with more technological deception.
I entered the electronic store. It was occupying at least three floors. Enormous.
Most TV screens were playing a video of that survivor guy Bear what’s his name. The guy was persevering through incredibly difficult conditions. In this particular episode he was doing his signature move – drinking his own urine, drop by drop, from a snake skin. Oh, man. You gotta love “reality” TV. Here’s a quick question: how is the guy holding the camera surviving? Is there enough urine for him to drink too?
My analyze was cut short because a semi-pretty girl was approaching me.
What’s semi-pretty? This is an individual with one good looking parent and another one who is a duck. In most cases the pretty parent has emotional issues and the duck is there to fix them. Opposites attract each other.
“Hello, sir! We have special promotion for credit card users!”
What was she talking about? Credit cards? That girl was obviously watching way too many imported movies.
“No, thank you very much,” I said without trying to be polite. She had two rings. Lost cause.
I decided to check the tablet section. I went there and launched one of those magic screens addicted to human fingerprints. This was my first time working with a tablet on my own and my actions were slow and lacked precision. I had to press the buttons more than once to get a response from the machine.
Out of nowhere an assistance guy appeared. He was really young, probably just out of high school. This had to be his first contract job.
“Would you like me to show you how this amazing quad-core tablet with Full HD screen works, sir?”
That was a little insulting because of my long experience with computers. I’ve been living with similar machines for decades. However, I was way past the age when you feel bad about not understanding a computer game and kept those superficial emotions under control.
“What would you like to see?”
“Play me some videos? I want to examine the quality of the screen.”
He started the browser.
“What kind of videos?”
“Sports, weightlifting, maybe bodybuilding too?”
“One moment, sir.”
That “sir” was annoying and fake, but I knew it was the policy of the store.
He typed bodybuilding and Google’s artificial intelligence immediately presented a few suggestions. One of them was Dorian Yates’ secrets to muscle mass or something really close.
“Click on this one,” I said.
The video started playing.
It was Dorian Yates explaining his high carb high protein low fat diet consisting of oat meal/rice and chicken breasts. Meanwhile a guy was preparing a dozen of plastic containers full of all kinds of carbs and no kinds of fats, except for a few tablespoons of fish oil like substance. The clip was Full HD and really well edited. It was easy to get hypnotized and manipulated into joining the genocide against chicken, rice and broccoli.
“This guy has some serious muscle mass on him. I lift weights too. Six days a week,” exclaimed the assistance guy and looked at his biceps with the corner of his eyes.
They were more like fatceps.
I was going to say “Me too.”, but when you don’t look like you lift and tell people you lift, they give you that “Sorry, you suck!” look, and I really want to punch somebody in the face when that happens. Thus, I decided to keep quiet.
“This guy has a point. This is how you get big. This morning I prepared a few containers full of rice, oat meal, chicken breast and broccoli myself. My mom thought I was crazy, but this is actually dedication. I love it. My colleagues are going to be shocked by the results,” added Mr. Assistance.
“Oh, noooooo! The bodybuilding propaganda is affecting more and more people,” I thought to myself but didn’t say anything.
“By the way, you can buy chicken, broccoli and rice for a fair price at the supermarket downstairs,” informed me Mr. Assistance using a ton suggesting that I probably need to pay him for this great inside information. Dream on.
“Why do you think chicken and rice will make you big? What’s so special about them,” I asked
“Chicken gives you protein, the building block of muscles, and rice pumps high quality slow releasing carbs in your system. You become a machine.”
“What about fats?”
“Fuck fats. They are for the fatsos. You eat fat, you get fat. Carbs keep you full while fats make you fat and flat. You only need them occasionally.”
“Do you throw the egg yolk away too?”
“Yes. I give it to my cat.”
“But in nature animal protein always comes with some sort of fat. Fat is not bad for you when it’s natural.”
“It is. Look at the guy in the video. He is obviously following a high carb high protein low fat diet and is massive.”
“I think he is pinning his glutes,” I said using a very low key.
“Nothing. Nice tablet but I have a PC already.”
“This tablet is not supposed to replace a PC. It gives you mobility. You can, for example, take it with you in the kitchen and watch this video while preparing your own plastic containers. That would be pretty cool, wouldn’t it? A little motivation goes a long way.”
“You seem way too opinionated about this. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you actually lift weights. Have you ever been in a gym?”
“I’ve seen one.”
“From the outside?”
“From the inside too. Listen, I think bodybuilders are getting away with massive carb consumption because they are also on steroids and stuff like DNP.”
“Are you a scientist?”
“Then your opinion on this topic is irrelevant, sir.”
“You may be right. I have to go. This tablet looks like a toy I can live without.”
Any further conversation with this brainwashed person was going to be a pain. He was like a Duracell rabbit constantly hitting his head in the wall. I know that eventually even the most durable battery goes out of energy, but sometimes it takes so much time that you fall asleep and forget the issue.
One day, not too far away, Mr. Assistance was going to wake up and realize that the rice and broccoli drama was nothing but a hoax prepared by the industry, which prefers that we eat truckloads of carbs only because they are cheap, tasty and before all easy to produce and sell. Eating rice, chicken breast and broccoli is not the secret to the physiques of the muscle heroes seen in the thongs & panties catalogs called fitness magazines.
I took out my dirty notebook from the back pocket of my well-worn jeans and added a few lines:
When you see people fighting over guys hitting or kicking a ball, they’ve been taken.
When you see people watching the morning show for financial advice, they’ve been taken.
When you see people voting for singers in reality shows, they’ve been taken.
When you see people waiting in lines for days to buy a product they don’t need, they’ve been taken.
When you see bodybuilders preparing plastic food containers full of chicken breast, rice and broccoli while expecting apocalyptical muscle growth, they’ve been taken too.