Callow Youth (a blog)


with 2 comments


Not baked, not fried, but a third option, the back of the bag promises in relentlessly uncapitalized letters. The chip of the future. Something is done to potatoes to make them into “what amounts to grains of rice or kernels of corn” (quoth, which is so hip that its FAQ stands not for Frequently Asked but for Frankly Answered Questions.) Then these kernel analogues are massively pressurized and heated until they pop, in a manner similar to the vegetable they imitate. I did not like them. They tasted like salted bag. They tasted like vinegary Styrofoam. I thought I would write a reactionary poem in which I, full of chip conservatism, sang the praises of good old-fashioned fried chips. Doritos. Ruffles. Frito-Lay, the Enemy. But I know that these chips are killing people. They are full of killing oil.

The future is so confusing. Maybe that’s how it is going to be. Maybe Popchips™ are just a swimming teacher, fat and bearded and in a Speedo, who pulls you out onto the tile, spluttering and dripping. He is saying no niceties. Your arms are flailing in the air as you bite down onto a towel, flat and chemical, restricting your ability to breathe, and your teeth move, and move, and your eyes water as you find comfort.


Written by elirose

01/17/2012 at 9:20 PM

Posted in Uncategorized

Tagged with ,

2 Responses

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  1. Interesting. But cheer up – maybe the future will be filled with Sunchips, actual popcorn, or other good things.

    Elizabeth Rose

    01/21/2012 at 2:14 PM

  2. Vinegary Styrofoam- I can see how that would lead to chlorinated nightmares.


    01/26/2012 at 7:20 PM

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