The Issue Neither the Democrats nor the Republicans Dare Touch

[Warph]

     

You know what it is.  Everyone knows what it is.  It's the true third rail of American politics. 

It is the politics of ...  the deep-fried Mars bar.

Chocolate manufacturing giant Mars has distanced itself from the famous deep-fried Mars bar by seeking a disclaimer.

The Carron Fish Bar in Stonehaven, in Aberdeenshire [Scotland], claims to be the birthplace of the recipe almost two decades ago.

http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-scotland-north-east-orkney-shetland-19487149

Mars has written to the owners saying the product is not authorized or endorsed as it does not fit the company's promotion of healthy living.

A menu disclaimer is being sought, to make people aware deep-frying is not what the company has in mind for its product.

A Mars spokesperson said: "We are really flattered that customers of Carron Fish Bar like our product so much that it has now become a flagship product for the store. ...

Lorraine Watson from the Carron Fish Bar told BBC Scotland she had written to Mars to say she was happy to put up a "disclaimer" notice in the shop.

Sure, it affects people in a faraway land now.  But the question of the propriety of deep-fried candy bars is bound to hit our shores.  Will we be denied the unique gustatory pleasure afforded by the cacoa bean bound to encrusted canola oil?  Is this a civil union... or a true wedding of equals?

OK, so it probably causes the average 12-year-old to clutch his chest and pop a little nitroglycerine.  All right, so it violates three World Health Organization precepts, including the one about reducing per capita First World sugar consumption to the gross tonnage of a gross ton.  But is that any reason not to add it to school cafeterias in place of that awful meat, fish, and fowl?  At least no defenseless animal will have been caged, forced-fed Ambien, slaughtered, ripped to pieces, and skewered so we can have "Sloppy Joes."

I say we take to the streets and demand our right to enjoy the quietus that comes from gout-induced mini-comas before the Nanny Bloombergs, Michele Obamas, and Dr. Ozs start pontificating, legislating, and self-congratulating, leaving the rest of us stuck staring at a vending machine having to choose between soy celery and rice cakes made entirely of hair.