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The Daily Wildcat

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The Daily Wildcat

The Daily Wildcat


    You can’t end war with weenies

    I had an epiphany on the corner of Surf Avenue and Stillwell Avenue on Coney Island on the Fourth of July: We shouldn’t eat food anymore. Ever. Let’s find something new that will keep us alive.

    I witnessed first-hand the 94th Annual Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest on Saturday, when Joey Chestnut scarfed down a world-record 68 hot dogs and buns in 10 minutes to defeat Japan’s Takeru Kobayashi for the third straight year. The crowd of about 50,000 exploded into “”U-S-A”” chants, sang the National Anthem and waved Betsy Ross’ greatest creation through the air. Food – more specifically hot dogs – was the nucleus of patriotism on the nation’s most patriotic day of the year. Legal gambling Web sites provided platforms for wagering beforehand and the event was televised live on ESPN. Regular ESPN, not ESPN 8 The Ocho.

    From the day of Jesus Christ’s last supper to the modern-day Thanksgiving dinner, food has always been a symbol of celebration. For some people, food is a way to grieve. But somewhere in between, people have found a way to eat their way out of reality and into a facade of happiness.

    It won’t be long before the most important piece of cake at weddings isn’t the one the bride and groom share. It will be served before the bride makes her way down the aisle in hopes of taking away marital freedom of speech. The one person thinking the marriage will never work – there’s always that one person – simply won’t care with a slice of cheesecake in his or her lap.

    Eat now and forever hold your peace.

    Sure, eating is a way of life, and everybody does it. And in some cases it can make a person’s life richer. But more often than not, it’s just part of everyday life, more meaningless than Paris Hilton’s acting career.

    Most people don’t know when to stop eating. That’s why America is the fattest nation in the world, full of people who cheer when a grown man consumes 68 hot dogs in 10 minutes. Ironically, Chestnut and Kobayashi are fit men. I think they’re manorexic.

    With the kind of enthusiasm the contestants received in the hot dog eating contest, many would believe food would be able to end war in this world. I hate to break it to you, but sausages will never replace bullet shells and a soldier will never step on a banana pancake land mine. Food will end hunger pangs, but we’re not going to finish fights with franks and wars with weenies.

    Dozen of “”fans”” posed for photos with the trophy of global eating heroes Chestnut and Kobayashi, perpetuating the idea that things we do every single day are needlessly being turned into competitions and glorified.

    Eating and walking have been checked off the list; too many brain cells have been killed from underwater-breath-holding events as children.

    Who’s up for a round of competitive sleeping?

    -ÿLance Madden is a journalism senior. He can be reached at

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