Fast Food

Fast food occupies an interesting niche in American cuisine. Supplanting street food vendors and pre-made automat-type meals, it promised quick calories with consistent taste and a guarantee of food safety. Indeed, the OG of fast food is White Castle, because in a time of questionable food quality, no one trusted the hamburger – a skepticism that should be continued into present times, I might add. But White Castle ground their own meat on-site and in view of the customer (originally, anyway). Sanitation was prioritized, with everything from the wall paint to the employee uniforms being bright white so as to convey this. And to top it off, they pioneered the first version of the fast food assembly-line system adapted for use by all modern fast food. McDonald’s made it famous, but White Castle started it.

So fast food is clean and quick. But wait, there’s more: all kids love fast food because it’s food that mom didn’t make. And it’s food that a male figure usually promoted for consumption when mom wasn’t around, because it was easy to procure and relatively cheap (also food that mom wouldn’t approve of). What does this lead to? Nostalgia. My own Grandpa said that when McDonald’s first started, their burgers were terrible. But he loved shoveling his grandkids into that giant farm truck for a McDonald’s run anyway.

My point being: fast food is inherently American because it checks all the boxes that Americans value: quick, affordable, reliable, and nostalgic.


The internet would have you believe that fast food prices have not significantly outpaced inflation. And that’s because the internet lies. AI simply aggregates data and forms conclusions, but it’s not very good yet at vetting sources of that data. Yes, flagship menu items follow this rule, but value menu items do not. In 2005 I could get a .39-cent Taco Bell taco, which equates to .66-cents today. The cheapest option currently on offer? $1.29.

Still, fast food has cornered the market of the young and lazy, because: quick, affordable, reliable. Also the young haven’t figured out how to cook yet, or make good financial decisions. And they don’t suffer yet the digestive problems that fast food causes their elders. But this doesn’t stop fast food from continually trying to expand their customer base to older people. Because, as the one American value criteria not being satisfied by the young and lazy: nostalgia.

I admit – it’s satisfying to be pandered to. No wonder the boomers are so self-important, having received this most of their lives! And now it’s my turn. And in this case of nostalgia and fast food, I will call out two products from my time which have been rebooted recently: The Arch Deluxe, by McDonald’s; and the Chicken Twister, by KFC.

The Arch Deluxe was a failed burger from an attempted premium line of menu items. It included additional ingredients that I’d consider pretty basic for a bacon cheeseburger with lettuce and tomato, but that was enough for me to desperately want to try one. But even if mom were willing to buy one, they were never in our select market. Ultimately it died out, but I did manage to grab one once on a Boy Scout trip once. I remember the commercials for it being weirdly hostile towards kids, which might have had something to doom it when being offered from a company whose mascot was a clown encouraging kids to have a little fun. The Arch Deluxe is now the Big Arch, but I’d consider them more or less the same thing, aside from marketing. The former was meant to be a luxury option, the latter just a bigger option. As this is fast food, I say whatever. Same crap ingredients. (If they ever bring back the Angus Mushroom Swiss burger, however, then we’re on a different level.)

The Chicken Twister was just a couple boneless chicken tenders in a wrap with lettuce and some spicy sauce. It was great at the time because it was slightly cheaper than a sandwich and easy to eat while walking – perfect college requirements. I never did understand why it was discontinued, so it must have been company economics in this case rather than consumer perception. I had often declared that I’d get one the moment they were brought back.

So, how did they stack up to expectations? First, a bit of internet meme-ing is required. I encourage you to find the Chris Kempczinski video.

Found it? Good. Because that led to an additional experiment on top of whether these products were any good or not: Big Arch vs Whopper. Because that was Burger King’s response: at least pretend that you as a company executive actually enjoy eating the company offerings. We would take this opportunity to make a comparison ourselves.

The last time I had a McDonald’s burger, it was a quick grab on the road. It was the first time I used one of those kiosks they have now inside. Apparently, that wasn’t the standard procedure, as I received some weird looks from the staff. I’m uncertain as to why, but I’m guessing their usual demographic prefers to order via their mobile app, because…apps are cooler? Maybe coupons? Dunno. Whatever. The burger was the expected sponge-beef on a puffed cardboard bun. The Big Arch was, however, surprisingly good. A little heavy on the sauce, but they had apparently replaced the sponge and cardboard with actual bread and griddle beef like I remember from the old days. Of course, inflation-adjusted, it’s still overpriced, but it actually tasted like good ol’ McDonald’s.

The Whopper, however, was a bland and dry basic burger. McDonald’s “wins”. I then spent the evening groaning and massaging my gut.

Would I buy the Big Arch again? Probably not. If I were in my 20s then yes, but if I were in my 20s it wouldn’t hold any nostalgic value. So, I call this a fail.

Moving on, the Chicken Twister. These things were so damn good and I couldn’t wait to try one!

Okay, so apparently someone failed to explain to staff that the tenders are supposed to be lined up the length of the tortilla, not thrown into one end. That, or whatever stoner assembled this just didn’t care. What’s wrong there, Chad? Overdue for your vape break?

In any case, some reassembly was required, negating the product’s convenience. As in, half the tortilla needed removing.

There we go. Once that part was corrected, it once again resembled two chicken tenders in a tortilla with some sauce and lettuce. It was…okay I guess. Even if it had been flawlessly presented at a reasonable price by a Chad without attitude, it still would have remained a lackluster attempt at a millennial throwback. Another fail.


There’s a few lessons from this experience:

  1. The overall quality in fast food has declined across the board, due to streamlining production methods and by reducing ingredient costs. Even if current products were made as they were originally, which they aren’t, they would still fail to live up to ingrained memory expectations.
  2. People with any sort of economic means don’t regularly eat fast food. Even Kempczinski could barely stomach the thought of eating his company’s flagship reveal. It’s simply just not good nutrition, nor good quality.
  3. The demographic trying to be captured here using nostalgia is a demographic who, through aging in general, has achieved economic means. And even the ones who haven’t are still…
  4. …old now, and can’t eat that crap food without painful consequences.

Conclusion: attempting to use nostalgia for marketing purposes in the fast food industry is dumb. You’ll get us to try things once, then we’ll laugh, poop, and never buy them again. But at least I had a fun time going down memory lane. You sold me that much at least.

–Simon

Denial

“I don’t know” is the most common response to any query in this house. Here are some examples of questions that would elicit such a response:

“Why is there trash on the floor?”

“Why is this dish broken?”

“Why is there a giant scratch on the car?”

“What is this mysterious substance smeared across the sink?”

“Why is the couch on fire?”

“Why is there a decapitated squirrel inside a blood-drawn pentagram on the basement floor?”

You get the idea. No one in this house, occupied by three people, ever knows anything about anything. I’m sure family men everywhere can relate.

So it was of little surprise to me when a drinking glass, which I’ve never seen before, and which doesn’t match any set of glasses we own, apparated mysteriously upon the counter.

I inquired, naturally. I’m sure you can guess the response.

Maybe it was a jelly or yogurt jar? Is it important to anyone? Does anyone want to keep it? The answer, obviously, was much simpler.

Yes, that’s right. Its unexplained appearance and humble design can only lead to one explanation, and I should notify The Vatican. Eventually. For now, though, it sits untouched. No one has moved it, and no one has used it. It waits for the penitent man, one who must choose wisely.

Who will be the first?

–Simon

Bow Down

A man should have weapons mounted on walls. This is a requirement of manhood. Failure to do so denies that which makes us men: the capacity for and proper use of selective violence.

However, the type of weapon and the method of display distinctly broadcasts the man’s association with violence. Sword = nerd and probably younger. Yes, I have a sword hanging up in the basement but I also have a history degree so I get a pass. Old family shotgun = appreciation for family history. Bolt-action rifle = appreciation for hunting or precision shooting. AR15 = douchebag.

But what about classic recurve/longbows? Well they’re awesome, of course. But as for storage, the bow is a unique customer. It can’t be stood up in a corner or shoved in the attic. Bad climate control can cause delamination, and improper support can cause warping. Unlike firearms, they’re very particular. Even when not intended to be displayed, they still need even, horizontal support in a low-humidity and low heat environment. And at 4-6′ long, they can take up an awkward amount of wall space. A solution was needed, but internet searches for bow holders tended to favor the compound variety, and anything else proved to be ridiculously overpriced. As usual, I would have to build my own.

…Which really didn’t require all that much imagination. A couple boards and hanging brackets would suffice, since they were going in the basement. Here’s what I came up with:

Complete with pretty wife

Basic and functional, and elegant in its simplicity. At last the bows are now not only properly stored, but also displayed. Manly!

–Simon

Ghost-writers in the Sky

An old cowpoke went riding out one dark and windy day/

COVID meds laced through the sky ’cause liberals got their way!

I have a neighbor who insists that jet contrails are COVID vaccines. Or experimental medical seeding. Or most recently – Masonic symbols being surreptitiously scrawled on high for all to see.

I’d normally consider such conclusions to be based in paranoia, with little tangible evidence. But as Boomers don’t like to be contradicted, I choose these moments to disengage from conversation rather than inquire further. Some part of me remains curious as to why someone might make such unhinged conclusions, but not enough to encourage the conspiracy theory rhetoric that would inevitably ensue.

The Devil’s pitchfork! Hail Satan!

So instead, I asked AI – an odd usage of modern technology, but why not? Let’s see what aggregated generative data can give us to help understand unhinged thinking.

Its conclusion, greatly abbreviated, was that people recognize anomalies in predictable patterns, and that the process by which jet contrails are created can be difficult to understand. A distrusting mind then tries to associate such a phenomenon with an already-mistrusted system: in this case, the government. And the government objectively handled the COVID pandemic response poorly. Ergo: confusing chemical/physical phenomenon = government doing suspicious things, possibly COVID-related. Or the Free Masons – because they’re secretive. Or Voldemort.

But I find it confusing that one would spend the mental energy to fabricate an outlandish conclusion rather than simply look up the scientific process that created the anomaly in the first place.

So as a service to the paranoid, here’s what’s going on:

Jet fuel is kerosene, for the most part. A combustible hydrocarbon. When burned, it reacts with oxygen to generate heat – the expanding volume of which produces thrust – with the byproducts: carbon dioxide and water.

The carbon dioxide dissipates into the atmosphere. The water, owing to the exothermic reaction, is released it its vaporous state. This water vapor, then exposed to high-altitude atmospheric conditions (low air pressure and temperature), condenses into visible water.

Jet exhaust creates a damn cloud! Sheesh.

I’m not sure why that’s harder to believe than clandestine government-sponsored aerosol-dispersed COVID vaccines.

People are weird.

–Simon

Croci 2026

In the spirit of phenologic trend monitoring, here are the first crocus blooms of 2026, as of 2/25:

3 days earlier than last year, but that’s probably insignificant. I’m making the guess that this year’s weather patterns will be similar to last year’s.

Next up: starting tomato seedlings.

–Simon