So, life is imitating art with Arnold Schwarzenegger in the role of the villain from Demolition Man, Dr. Raymond Cocteau. Arnie just signed a law banning trans fats in California restaurants. They weren’t on the list yet in 1993, but in the future California of that film, here’s Lenina Huxley (Aldous’ great granddaughter, I think, played by Sandra Bullock) giving John Spartan (Sylvester Stallone) the run down on what’s illegal:
Stallone: You, get me a Marlboro.
Bullock: Yes, of course.
What’s a Marlboro?
Stallone: It’s a cigarette. Any cigarette.
Bullock: Smoking is not good for you.
Anything not good for you is bad.
Hence, illegal. Alcohol, caffeine,
contact sports, meat–
Stallone: Are you shitting me?
Surveillance Computer: You are fined one credit for violation
of the verbal-morality statute.
Stallone: What the hell is that?
Surveillance Computer: You are fined one credit….
Bullock: Bad language…chocolate, gasoline, uneducational toys
and spicy food.
Abortion is illegal, so is pregnancy
if you don’t have a license.
I feel like Edgar Friendly (Dennis Leary): I’ve seen the future. ” It’s a 47-year old virgin sitting around in his beige pajamas drinking a banana-broccoli shake, singing “I’m an Oscar Meyer Wiener.”
What’s next for Arnie? Maybe he can make Brawndo the state drink and turn California into a real Idiocracy. Maybe we should amend the Constitution so he can run for President, but only if he changes his name to Dwayne Elizondo Mountain Dew Herbert Camacho Schwarzenegger.
Personally, I want trans fats, I want saccharin, I want offshore drilling and high emissions, I want a bluetooth headset sending radio waves through my brain and a computer monitor glaring into my eyes,
I like to think. I like to read. I’m into freedom of speech and freedom of choice. I’m the kinda guy who likes to sit in a greasy spoon and wonder, “Gee, should I have the T-bone steak or the barbecued ribs with the side order of gravy fries?” I want high cholesterol. I wanna eat bacon, butter and buckets of cheese, ok? I wanna smoke a Cuban cigar the size of Cincinnati in the non-smoking section. I wanna run through the streets naked with green jello all over my body reading Playboy magazine, why? Because I suddenly might feel the need to, OK pal?
Damn, now I’m hungry.