The Essential Choice

by William V. Brust

TO eat salad, or not to eat salad: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
the tofu and protein shakes of outrageous dieting,
Or to take arms against a sea of chocolates,
And by opposing, devour them? To feast, to starve;
No more, and by a feast to say we end
The hunger and the thousand natural shocks
That taste is heir to, 'tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wish'd. To feast, to stuff my face;
To stuff my face, perchance to get a tummy-ache: ay, there's the rub;
For in that fit of binge eating what pains may come
When we have stretched our stomachs past their capacity,
Must give us pause: There's the respect
That makes calamity of so much indulgence;
For who would bear the whips and scorns of celery,
The oppressor's radish, the proud man's asparagus.
The pangs of despised herbal supplements, dessert's delay,
The insolence of treadmills and the spurns
Of the societal merit of the unworthy physical ideal.
When he himself might his quietus make
With a bag of Cheetos? Who would go to the gym,
To grunt and sweat under a barbell,
But that the dread of what she might think,
The undiscover'd teasing from whose bourn
No man's self-esteem, returns unscathed, puzzles the will
And makes us rather bear those vegetables and tofu burgers we have
Than to fly to milkshakes and French fries we know not of?
Thus sex appeal does make cowards of us all;
And this the native hue of chocolate
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of fat,
And enterprises of great sweet and sourness
Their woks and deep fryers turn awry.
And lose the name of action. — Soft you now!
The fair Ophelia! Nymph, in thy orisons
Be all my rolls unnoticed.

See Hamlet's soliloquy, by that guy Shakespeare.

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