My world has been turned upside down. Certain truths that I have held as self-evident since I was small boy in OshKosh B’gosh knock-offs are now in question.
My parents have lied to me. The education system has failed me. And dare I say, the government, whose teats I have suckled at since the day I entered college, has conspired to control me with its far-reaching propaganda.
My epiphany occurred yesterday, coming to me suddenly and unexpectedly…in the form of an egg. Yes, an egg. A locally-grown, white chicken’s egg. Such a simple thing, the egg. If you ponder it long enough, you will see beyond the calcium container of proteins and fats, albumins and cholesterols. Truly, the egg is wisdom written across the universe and packaged twelve to a carton.
My indoctrination into the falsehoods of the great egg conspiracy began as a child in New England, through the lies fed to me as I gaily munched my Fruity Pebbles and watched the television commercials on Saturday morning. One commercial, in particular, promised me a bright future, providing me with an axiom so profound that it would remain lodged in my memory for my entire life.
Brown eggs are local eggs, and local eggs are fresh.
But here it was in front of me, the white, locally-grown egg. Did I have to travel three thousand miles to the Pacific Northwest to discover a secret that this jingle and my faulty American logic hid from me for so long?
If brown eggs are local eggs, then doesn’t that mean white eggs are not local eggs? Oh, the pain! The suffering and indignity of it all. I see it all so clearly now. How will I look myself in the face each morning, knowing that I have rejected thousands of white eggs as inferior for no better reason than television told me to.