First thing this morning I began breakfast, following a stealthy workout. I ate a fruit cup, toast and an OJ.
  A man beside me is reading an article in the paper, titled, America, a Great Nation. His plate is stacked a mile high, syrup oozing down the sides of the pancakes. He has two side orders of biscuits and bacon besides. He also wears a t-shirt touting a US flag, beneath which is written, United We Stand.
  Looking around me, I see more flags, not only on t-shirts but on caps and even, on socks. Mostly, I see that I am surrounded by extremely fat people (should I be polite and call them overweight, obese? No way!). I feel like I am in one of those nightmares in which all the normal people are replaced by grotesque, alien beings.
  The gut of the guy beside me spills into his lap. While he consumes his stack, he drinks a Diet Coke. "This should help me get back into shape," he says to the waitress, as if the diet drink could somehow neutralize the phenomenal amount of calories before him.
  United we stand. Right. We are standing united against anyone who would threaten our 'right' to choose between McDonalds, Burger King or KFC. Steak, or veal. Affluence, or security. Ignorance, or avarice.
  Another Republican administration is in power, steeped in corporate gain, getting fat on the little people, I'm told. Well, I'm not sure how "little" the people are these days!
  Like a diet Pepsi on the side, it can never hurt to gain from the affluence all around, then complain about "the fat cats" in Washington. United we stand? How about, United we Waddle?

(Incidentally, today Garfield the cat wakes up in the night, depressed. "But wait!" he exclaims to himself, "there's a light at the end of the tunnel." And in the next frame, you see that the light is inside the opened, refrigerator door.)