Grand Prix and Hot Dogs

Montreal was on fire this weekend and I am not talking about the temperature. It was the Grand Prix weekend, that yearly cockfest of big cars, big men, big bimbos and big restaurant and nightclub bills. Oh, I know what you're thinking as you read my sarcastic words, "Bitter, party of one!" No, I am not complaining because my invite to the wet t-shirt contest at Buennonotte was lost in the mail. I am not even complaining even though I can hear the noise of the cars here in my backyard. What upsets me was watching all the fawning media coverage and not one single media outlet mentioned the gluttony involved. Now, I am not getting all Seven Deadly Sins on anyone's ass, but hello, GLOBAL WARMING?! Hello, war in MIDDLE EAST?! Hello, George Bush and DEAD SOLDIERS?!

   I cannot be the only one who is bothered by this waste of gas. Not only gas, however, but so many other things. We really have to stop burying our heads in the sand so to speak, and realise that all this is connected. Montreal is a party city, I know, especially in the summer time when EVERYTHING is a festival. But can't we come up with anything better that this Grand Gluttony.
 

   I fear not. Entertainment is taking a more and more wasteful turn. Last night, when I got in (nunofyerbizness) I clicked on the TV for some dozing material, and what did I come across? A hamburger eating contest. First of all, as a vegetarian, ICK. And secondly, someone please tell me who is the Shakespeare that came up with this genius plan?

I know we aren't Americans yet, but we soon will be with this level of action. It's not bad enough that so many people in the West are morbidly obese, but we have to spit on the starving of our planet by mounting these contests. What do you win, btw? A rousing case of the runs?

Way to go, West. Another weekend of wasteful conspicuous consumption.

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