Column: Maintaining the moron equilibrium

By Thomas Winterhoff
First published on September 26, 2001.

Copyright © Thomas Winterhoff

Praise be to Wal-Mart.

There is no shortage of less-than-bright people in the world, but one of the largest merchandising conglomerates on the planet has just discovered a method of flushing out all the hitherto undiscovered dim bulbs.

In a country where people have an inexplicable propensity for falling headfirst into abandoned wells and otherwise displaying their general ineptitude for dealing with life’s simpler tasks, Wal-Mart and a group of food researchers at Oklahoma State University have lowered the bar a few more notches.

Food science professor William McGlynn and his hardworking research team have come up with the ultimate in convenience foods: pre-sliced peanut butter. Similar in size to the plastic-wrapped "cheese food product" slices already found in your neighbourhood supermarket, they new slices will soon retail for the princely sum of $2.50 US for a 16-slice package.

Now I don't know about you, but I’ve never seemed to have much trouble making a peanut butter sandwich the old-fashioned way – i.e. sticking a knife in the jar and spreading the brown goop over a slice of bread.

Seems simple enough, doesn’t it? In fact, apart from mastering the highly taxing challenge of preparing a bowl of corn flakes, the overwhelming task of constructing a peanut butter and jelly sandwich is usually one of the first food-related triumphs experienced by the average five-year-old. Granted, not everyone is as clever as the average five-year-old, but surely any human being with at least two brain cells to rub together is capable of reaching this culinary milestone.

Or are they? Remember the story circulating last year about a guy in Trinidad who tried to make a sly getaway with some stolen sheep by dressing them up in old clothes and placing them in the passenger seats of his car? He’ll likely be the first person in line for the peanut butter slices once stores begin to stock the darned things.

How about the people who routinely get squished by vending machines after they’ve pulled the behemoths over on top of themselves when frustrated by the loss of a quarter or two when the mechanism malfunctions? (Then, naturally, they try to sue the vending machine company for compensation.)

Then there’s the guy who picked up a 1999 Darwin Award nomination – created to recognize individuals who did the most for the human gene pool by removing themselves from it – by going bungee jumping near Fairfax, Virginia. Unfortunately, he used a bungee cord that was considerably longer than the height of the railroad trestle he had jumped from. Needless to say, Einstein didn’t fare too well.

The makers of Sunlight laundry detergent may have already identified a key market segment for the guys peddling peanut butter slices at Wal-Mart. On the side of the product box, the manufacturer warns users that the powder can be an eye irritant, but they also offer a helpful precautionary measure: "Avoid contact with eyes."

Thanks. I would never have thought of that myself.

Even though I’m now a fairly good cook (at least according to my long-suffering wife), I remember my early bachelor days when macaroni and cheese, beer, spaghetti and beer comprised my understanding of the four basic food groups. Apart from one memorable occasion when I somehow managed to burn salad, I’ve developed my skills considerably since the time when sandwiches (including peanut butter ones) made up a substantial part of my diet.

But recent disturbing developments in the world of convenience foods include microwavable Kraft Dinner (How much simpler could the old version be?) and pre-made (!) Rice Krispie squares.

Then again, at a time in our history when some people’s IQ ratings hover dangerously close to their shoe size, perhaps Wal-Mart is providing a valuable public service after all. It may well turn out to be the packaged food industry’s preferred method of determining the lowest common denominator for those of little brain.

But who would actually have the nerve to admit that they can’t handle the space-age technology of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, sidle up to the grocery checkout in a pair of dark glasses and actually purchase the wretched things?

A former colleague once told me about a theory he maintained about Mother Nature needing a way to separate the wheat from the chaff as far as human intelligence goes, given that future Darwin Award winners were being born every minute. He referred to the process as “maintaining the moron equilibrium”. Incidents involving vending machines are tailor-made to deal with the situation.

Please note that the researchers at Oklahoma State are already bent over their workbenches perfecting the next logical extension of their efforts so far: a “crunchy” version of their peanut butter slices. 

Oh, yum. I can hardly wait.

The good folks of Oklahoma and Texas will have the first opportunity to buy the new product, with the rest of the civilized world – presumably – to follow. Let’s just hope y’all remember to take off the plastic wrapper before eating ’em.