The Skinny on the Obesity Epidemic

A probably unpopular take on the f-word

I was at an event recently and introduced myself to the woman next to me. I recognized her distinct French accent (I’d minored in French in the paleolithic era college and done a stint at the Sorbonne), so I asked her how long she’d been in the states.

“Almost a year now,” she told me.

“And how do you like it?” I asked.

“Well, I gained thirty pounds in my first six months here,” she admitted. “I was eating more or less how I ate in Paris, but the food here is… different. Everything is so processed. And the ingredients! No wonder so many Americans are fat—not you and no offense. Now my family ships me food each month. I cannot eat your food, to be honest.”

[*makes a note to look into the cost of importing groceries]

She said the f-word, out loud! Didn’t they have body positivity in Paris?

I grew up on the beach in the 1970s, where you were more likely to spot a school of sharks in knee-deep water than you were to encounter a herd of corpulent humans. You might pass a few beer bellies here or an unusually wide middle-aged backside there, but obese adolescents were almost nonexistent. Many of the moms rocked bikinis—and I use rocked in the old-school, politically incorrect sense, meaning they looked good in them, not that they wore them as an unapologetic act of rebellion against impossible conventional beauty standards. These weren’t a bunch of aging pageant queens who spent their days and their dollars in a plastic surgeon’s office; liposuction and tummy tucks and “mommy makeovers” were practically unheard of. They had cellulite, stretch marks, and the not-so-taut abdominal skin you get as a badge of honor for making a baby (or three or four). But virtually nobody was fat.

I know, it’s not something we’re supposed to say anymore. It’s weight discrimination. Sizeism. Body shaming. Thin privilege. Fatphobia. It’s prejudiced, ignorant, rude, and judgmental. (Unless you’re Queen. Then you can bellow all you want about Fat Bottomed Girls and they’ll make an epic movie about you.)

Back in my day [resists the urge to add sonny and shake my invisible cane], every circus had a “Fat Lady”—just the one—and patrons would pay money and stand in line to see such an outlandish sight. Today, nearly a third of adults are overweight and more than two in five (42%) are obese. One out of every eleven Americans could audition for the circus.

Sorry, but nobody is paying money to see her anymore.

This isn’t about vanity. It’s not about conformity or cultural trends or societal approval or physical attractiveness. It’s about what-the-hell-happened? It’s about our food and the bought-and-paid-for people in charge of it who make ridiculous, “official” declarations like Frosted Mini Wheats are healthier than eggs and ground beef is the worst but have another nonfat frozen yogurt. It’s about our worksites, schools, and public spaces that have been reengineered in ways that minimize movement and muscular activity. It’s about about the declining collective life expectancy, something “experts” try to blame on Covid and drug overdoses and—you cannot even make this stuff up—misinformation, which anyone with a working noodle knows is BS. And I know that skinny doesn’t equal healthy and that BMI is a lousy predictor of, well, anything and that true health is far more complex than the number on the scale or inside your jeans. But the fact remains that adiposity is associated with cancer, diabetes, cardiovascular disease, musculoskeletal disorders, sleep apnea, osteoarthritis, gallbladder and liver disease, even mental illness. During Covid, being overweight or obese tripled your risk of hospitalization—and yet never once did our so-called health officials suggest laying off the Lays or going for a stroll.

Food is to medicine what water is to hydration. Prunes are the planet’s OG laxatives. Turmeric is nature’s Tylenol. Whole grains and fresh fruits and vegetables can lower high blood pressure. Garlic boosts your immune system. Avocados improve cholesterol levels. The Mediterranean diet is linked to a reduced risk of heart disease, cancer, and obesity. Consuming fish can lower your likelihood of heart attack and stroke—but then again, so *supposedly* can statins (and these billion dollar drugs can maybe add three to four whole days to your lifespan!). Sadly, the local fish farm isn’t offering your doctor a kickback for encouraging you to beef up your salmon intake. (That link should positively piss you off, by the way.)

In a recent post I wrote about Tucker Carlson’s eye-opening interview with Casey and Calley Means, the whistleblowing siblings (and advisors to RFK Jr. and others) who are on a mission to expose the desperately sick state of our food, medical, and regulatory systems. From a list of highlights I pulled from their discussion:

• Our modern food industry was created by the tobacco industry—where it used the same science (and scientists) that got people hooked on Lucky Strikes to make junk food equally addictive. (It would actually be brilliant if it weren’t so diabolical.)

Do you think it’s a coincidence that the folks who control our food want the worst of it to be irresistible? Of course it’s not! Obesity is a bustling business. According to the NIH, the aggregate national medical cost of obesity is $260.6 billion annually. Americans spend another $33 billion every year on weight loss pills, products, and programs. (Spoiler: They’re not working. But that doesn’t stop companies and their insidious influencers from peddling them and people from lining up to buy them.) Advertisers push “body positivity” campaigns that glamorize and glorify obesity in much the same way cigarette makers spouted their “torches of freedom” propaganda in the 1920s to encourage women to smoke *you go, girl! (It’s interesting to note that campaign’s creator, Edward Bernays, is considered a pioneer in the fields of public relations and propaganda. He also was the nephew of Sigmund Freud and great-uncle of Netflix co-founder Marc Bernays Randolph, but I digress.) Sure, body positivity is always couched in inclusive language that aims to promote acceptance of all body types and sizes—which is fair and noble, to an extent—but few people seem to want to know why our parents and grandparents needed no such movement and certainly never had to weigh the risks of injecting a skinny serum whose side-effects include thyroid tumors, cancer, stomach paralysis, and the possibility of having all of their teeth fall out.

It’s called create the problem, sell the cure—just make sure the cure doesn’t really work and that it’s incredibly profitable and ideally causes bonus side effects for which you also make a mostly ineffective but equally lucrative treatment. (See: Covid “vaccines” and cancer, for example.) According to Bernhard Palsson, professor of bioengineering at the Jacobs School of Engineering at UC San Diego, the side effects of drugs cost one dollar for every three dollars of drug sales.

Because my faithful readers know I can’t resist a good analogy: Imagine you just bought a brand-new car for your cross-country road trip. You’re three states away when, out of nowhere, the steering wheel locks up. You pull the manual from the glove box to discover the manufacturer conveniently sells a special Unlocking Tool that you can buy for roughly a third of what you paid for the car itself. Since you don’t really have a choice—you can’t drive or even sell the thing as it is—you buy the stupid tool. Unfortunately, it turns out this magical tool only works for about ten minutes, which is why they sell a handy Turbo Charger to keep it running!

Welcome to the sickcare system, where every “fix” leads to another problem/solution loop. It’s a cycle intentionally designed to keep us chronically unwell, perpetually dependent, and ever willing to fork over for their latest miracle remedy.

The solution to this epidemic is actually remarkably simple—it’s just not easy. We have to quit buying their hype—and their garbage, manufactured frankenfoods. We need to feed our bodies wholesome foods and support local farmers and markets that prioritize quality over profit. We have to break our addiction to convenience and our dependence on ultra-processed food. Yes, organic meats and vegetables are costlier than a box of Hamburger Helper and some cheap ground beef, and cooking from scratch takes more time than swinging through the Chick-fil-A drive-thru (although maybe not right after high school lets out in Texas). But would you rather spend your time and money on healthy nourishment now or on decades of medical care you could have avoided?

“Those who have no time for healthy eating will sooner or later have to find the time for illness.” — Edward Stanley

So annoying.

I feel like I’m going to get beaten up—there’s always at least one Sarah out there—for targeting only one end of the body size spectrum and not writing about eating disorders and the fact that being severely underweight has its own set of health complications. With all due preemptive respect, that’s not today’s topic. (When I was writing about vax mandates, more than a few people insisted that if I cared so much about bodily autonomy, I’d be championing abortion hahahaha you’re not the boss of me but feel free to start your own ‘stack!)

Thanks for your support.
~The POPME

Am I in big, fat trouble for this one? Weigh in in the comments (and please be nice). ;)

p.s. Prayers to everyone and their loved ones impacted by the horrors of Hurricane Helene. I have several friends who’ve been displaced and lost nearly everything. One of them is Yankee Doodle Soup contributor and vax-injury advocate Brit Galvin, who has already suffered impossible loss. (You can read her incredible essay by clicking “preview the book” on the homepage.) A portion of proceeds from every book sold in October will go toward Brit’s GiveSendGo (which you are welcome to contribute to directly as well).

This book contains absolutely zero seed oils, pesticides or preservatives.