Originally the diary of 4 months spent in Antarctica working as a documentary film sound recordist, this blog has evolved into an online repository for the thoughts, travels and trivia of the writer Richard Fleming. For McMurdo Station, Antarctica, and polar exploration, see August through December of '06. Currently you are likely to find in these pages chronicles of my actual and literary meanderings, as well as notes on my many other passions. Also, did I mention I wrote a book?
Not really awesome.
In the gloom of a January evening near Wall Street, dim golden arches are suspended above a brilliantly illuminated poster advertising McDonald's McRib sandwich.
Is it just me, or does this promotional campaign for the McRib sandwich imply that at other times, and in other sandwiches, the pork hasn't been real, (but rather unreal)? Is anyone else detecting an implicit: "Now, with real meat...!"? Perhaps it's the retro, 1950's font, suggesting that we have finally arrived back in some fictitious but glorious past when actual pork was used in confecting the mighty McRib. I'm certain I'm making too much of it, but my, oh my does that sandwich look revolting, oozing its glistening brown sauce out onto a Fulton streetcorner.