I've discussed Jim Hightower twice on this blog (here and here) and I feel I've been neglecting "America's #1 Populist," particularly because he's from Texas and I dislike the notion of not commenting on someone who advocates the views he does.
My second post on him was called The Hightower Retort because at the time, the Austin Chronicle titled it's columns from him The Hightower Report. Those columns are now called the The Hightower Lowdown, but I'll keep the name the same in future posts. Unless I feel his words are sufficient to command a temporary change to The Hightower Lowbrow.
Hot damn, am I clever or what?
To plug things back in, here is a section from September 19's AusChron:
PACKAGED LIES
It's time for another trip into the Far, Far, Far-out Frontiers of Free Enterprise.
Today, Spaceship Hightower takes you into the dark hole of corporate claims about the virtues of their packaged food products. Our guide is Consumer Reports magazine, which probes the crassness of commercialism every month.
Here's a pick to get us started: "Dairy Fresh." If you like fresh cream in your coffee, you might reach for this -- unless you happen to see the fine print confessing that "Ultra-pasteurized Dairy Fresh" never saw the inside of a cow barn. It's nondairy creamer.
Then there's the big summer sausage that the Hillshire Farm proudly labels "Yard-o-Beef." Now that's a hunk of sausage -- but it's not a yardlong hunk by any stretch of the imagination. More like a foot-and-a-half, only not quite. But "161/4-inches-o-Beef" just wouldn't have the same zing, so what the hell -- call it a yard.
Let's give credit for truth in packaging, though, to the Dole company. Its bag of Peeled Mini Carrots has this reassuring disclosure right on the front: "Contains Carrots."
If you think it's absurd that Dole would feel it necessary to tell us that its bag of carrots contains carrots, you've not tried the Brie and Peppercorn Gourmet Spread. Flip the box over to read the list of "gourmet" ingredients, and the only cheese it mentions is cheddar. Keep flipping the box and you'll finally solve the mystery when you find this bit of small type: "Brie-Type Flavor." Apparently, though, we can rest assured that the peppercorns are real pepper, not pepper-type flavor.
Second, I'm fairly ignorant of any cheese beyond the typical stuff you can find in grocery stores, so I can't address his implication that cheddar doesn't qualify as "brie." This is likely his biggest point. He scorns the practice of justifying a food's name through artificial flavoring. I have, on the other hand, come to terms with today's mass-market food system and it's reliance on flavoring over authentic ingredients to provide the taste of most things. It does make "home cooked" food better by comparison. Moms rejoice!
The consumer who's most disappointed with product packaging, however, has to be the fellow who eagerly cracked open his fortune cookie and found not a message of hope, mystery, insight, humor, or good luck, but this crass pitch: "Promote literacy. Buy a box of fortune cookies today."That's clear grounds for a deceptive-packaging lawsuit ... or at least another cookie.
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