Ethical Conundrums That I Can't Reconcile Because I Frequently Feed Into the Ostensible Problem I'm Being Self Righteous About

KFC as ethical consumption? They've teamed up with the Susan G. Komen Foundation to sell pink buckets of chicken to benefit breast cancer research.

At first I thought this was a joke. Buckets of fried chicken as the symbol for a cure for breast cancer? In what world is this a sensible PR move for the Komen Foundation? I mean, they're certainly a hypermerchandised nonprofit. That's sort of their schtick - charitable proceeds funneled from retail consumer dollars. You buy this crappy pink mosaic Pier 1 candle, most likely assembled by exploited laborers in developing nations, and a portion of the profit goes to the Komen Foundation. I suppose it's not all that offensive in the grand scheme of things, because it's not like cancer research can't use all the funds it can get. Plus, let's face it, most of us buy crappy products assembled by exploited laborers in developing nations anyway. We may not necessarily have bought THESE products if they weren't branded pink, but I try to avoid getting self-righteous about sweatshop products when I very clearly shop at Target.

But, what is this odd cross promotion between fried flesh and medical research? EXTREMELY TERRIBLE-FOR-YOU fried flesh, the likes of which have been linked to various cancer risk factors! As the Facebook group entitled "SUSAN G KOMEN 'BUCKETS FOR A CURE?????" EPIC FAIL! SHAME!" reads,


PEOPLE SHOULD BE OUTRAGED! THIS IS NOT ONLY COMPLETELY INAPPROPRIATE, IT IS SUCH SHAMELESS CORPORATE PANDERING! DO NOT DONATE TO SUSAN G KOMEN UNTIL THEY RETRACT THIS PROGRAM.

BUCKETS of FRIED chicken. BUCKETS. For a CURE. A cure for CANCER. A cure VIA sales of hormone-injected, tortured, processed and deep-fried flesh & fat. Fried BREASTS, even. "Food" that may likely be a CAUSE of breast cancer. SUSAN G KOMEN: FAIL. FAIL FAIL FAIL FAIL. SHAME. FAIL. FAIL.


Okay, well, the corporate pandering part...this is not new. All of these charitable cross promotions do this to some extent. Does that mean that they don't believe in the cause? Not necessarily. But you can bet most of them wouldn't be participating if it didn't first and foremost boost their bottom line. Plus, tax credits.

But, the very disconcerting embrace between an organization supposedly committed to both preventative- and treatment-oriented medical advocacy and a corporation that serves as a metonymic index of the grossly misguided health choices frequently made in the United States...these are very strange bedfellows indeed. Or, at least they seem to be on an emotional level. Perhaps they're not so far apart at all. Logistically speaking, the only difference between KFC and the Komen Foundation is a 501(c)3 letter. Certainly we can make distinctions on a mission-based level, but I wonder how much this really ends up mattering with regards to how these brands are run and marketed.

Is it telling that this ostensibly charitable and health-conscious move by KFC comes the same week as the much-mediatized release of the Double Down, that most notorious of artery-clogging sandwiches with a near cult following - cheese, bacon, and mayo-based sauce sandwiched between two pieces of fried chicken. (Two breasts, no less - I like to call this the Tittyfuck Sandwich.) I have no doubt that there are items on chain menus that have far higher caloric and fat values. The Double Down is just so CONSPICUOUS. Teaming up with KFC during Double Downgate doesn't seem like a good PR move for the Komen Foundation, but could it be true that they are banking on the increased foot traffic promoted by the Double Down? Come for the Double Down, stay for the guilt-relieving ethical and health-conscious purchase? Are they hoping the irony won't register? Or that, if it does, it will simply be amusing?

Stealth Squirrels

So yesterday, I woke up to the following things:

1) My roommate screaming
2) A text from my roommate telling me that there was a squirrel in the living room
3) A phone call from my roommate telling me to be careful of the squirrel in the living room.
4) A squirrel in my fucking living room.

Now, how did this squirrel get into my apartment in the first place? No, we did not leave a window open. This fucker CAME DOWN THE EXHAUST DUCT over the stove, and then CHEWED THROUGH THE THICK METAL GRATE that covers the fan, and then dropped onto my counter. This was fucking MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE squirrel. He then proceeded to run around my apartment pooping and peeing on things. Plus he ate some of my peanut butter cups, so homeboy is dead to me.

At first, when I walked out there, the squirrel was just sort of like, la la la I do what I want. I'm in ur haus, poopin on ur shit. Then I tried to politely suggest that it was time for him to go chill with his other squirrel buddies. He was not havin' it. He was like that obnoxious friend who gets shitfaced, crashes at your place, pees all over, and won't get the fuck out in the morning. Only this squirrel and I were not throwing back beers together the night before. So I got a mop and tried to coerce him out the door. But no. He thought it would be better to run in the opposite direction and hide under the couch. Childish.

After many attempts, I engaged my third roommate to help. I told him to grab the Swiffer thing. He chose the pitchfork instead. Finally, a use for that fucking thing! I bought it as a set decoration for a stupid student film I made a few weeks ago and couldn't bring myself to return it because I got it from a sweet old man in his sweet old hardware store. So it's been sitting in the closet, waiting for Squirrelgate. So I've got a mop, and I'm slowly tapping the vertical blinds to coax the squirrel to come away from the windowsill and go out the VERY OBVIOUSLY WIDE OPEN DOOR TO FREEDOM. David was poised with the pitchfork to divert the squirrel away from the couch and outside. But, again, the squirrel did not see the value in this plan. He just ran under the couch again. And then David growled at it, and it ran back to the windowsill. Meanwhile, our other roommate is screaming her face off.

So, we called LA Animal Control. They said, "We don't do that." I said, um, escuzze? Apparently they "stopped dealing with wildlife in July." I don't...how...what the eff. So I said, what do you mean you don't deal with wildlife? You're Animal Control! WTF do you do then? "Dogs and Cats." Quoi!? Okay, so I've got a wild cat in my house. It is a rare breed. Called a squirrel. Come get it. She totally wasn't fooled though. So she gave me the name of a private contractor to deal with this. Uh huh, I see where this is going. So I call these dudes, and he's all umm, that'll be $175, kthxbai. I asked, for what!? $75 "service fee" and $100 to remove the squirrel. They were going to charge me a C-note to put a squirrel in a box and drop it 10 feet outside. And then $75 so they could go out for brunch after. Obviously these guys have some sort of deal with the city, and even though this was an odd moment for righteous municipal indignation, I was incensed. That shit is 'spensive. No thanks, I'll stick with the mop.

So finally we arrange furniture and boxes to create a path to the door. The squirrel is pissin' mad now (both in the sense that it was scared and angry, and in the sense that it was periodically pissing on things). It was making these awful sounds from behind the blinds, like "Chit chit chit! Chit chit! CHIT!" And I'm all, ditto, fucker. So I come at the squirrel with my patented blind sweep, and the thing runs in the right direction, but runs OVER the barricade. This dude is both moronic and stubborn. Then it hides under the couch again, and David growls at it again and shakes his pitchfork at it, so it runs back toward the window. I am between the squirrel and the window. Don't get between a squirrel and a window, cuz he doesn't care if you have a mop and he will divebomb you.

One more try, and the squirrel finally goes out the door and onto the balcony. MISSION ACCOMPLISHED! But then, instead of leaving via the phone pole, like every other squirrel in existence, it proceeds to freak out and run back and forth along the handrail and menace us. I don't think it was trying to menace us, but it was totally menacing the shit out of us.

So then we proceed to clean every surface in the apartment and pick up all the poo. There is a lot of poo. Luckily, squirrel poo comes in little pellets, so it was fairly easy. If you're going to have a wild animal startin' shit in your living room, you should hope it's a squirrel. You know, cuz of the convenient poo.