Fight the conspiratorial closing of Louie's Lower Level

Jeff Barfoot Arizona Daily Wildcat

Since nothing interesting was on TV (my cable company no longer carries Comedy Central), I looked for the copy of the Wildcat I'd barely looked at during the day. "Louie's Lower Level feels fallout from new hours," a headline read (Friday). Puzzled, I read on, only to discover to my dismay that Louie's hours would be truncated severely.

Louie's Lower Level! Home of grease, Mecca of cholesterol, permanent refuge of those nasty cheese fries that make me ill to look at! "Someone must pay," I vowed between clenched teeth.

Y'see, I don't eat on campus all that much; when I do, I like to stop in at Louie's. I figure that life's not worth living if you can't die of the simultaneous attack of a massive coronary and colon blockage by the time you're 26. Live fast, live hard, die of cholesterol poisoning.

But no, someone in power decided that Fr‰shens Smo”thies was a more worthwhile project than L-Cubed (Fr‰shens will be open until midnight, just like Louie's used to be). Oh, sure, there was an official explanation: "Louie's was targeted because it requires a large staff to operate" (ibid). Right. And there really wasn't anyone on the grassy knoll. More likely, this is part of a vast conspiracy designed to rid the world of semi-healthy eating establishments.

My theory goes like this:

Those weirdoes who ran their own exercise programs in the heyday of the mid-80s banded together and formed a vast network after their shows went belly-up and people got tired of hearing about oat bran. Realizing that their power was rapidly dwindling, they began meeting regularly under the leadership of certain exercise gurus who still appear occasionally in public. Their plan: To portray grease, cholesterol, and fat as "unhealthy" while buying up major shares of certain fast-food chains. These chains would then dominate the eating market, even as "recent tests and surveys" showed that eating these very foods could be hazardous to one's health.

People would be caught between a base desire to gratify their own urges and the need to appease their consciences. Sales at fast-food chains and diet programs would skyrocket as people attempted to have their cake and eat it too. The cycle would continue unabated, aided by little events like the closing of Louie's. Then, the power-brokers would take advantage of carefully plotted and publicized assassinations such as Vince Foster's (you don't really think the Clinton Administration is competent enough to have someone assassinated, do you?) and semi-secret installations such as Area 51 to add another level of anxiety to the public mind.

Then the media, who are themselves often slaves to the gods of fast food, and who must consistently report the false stories of fast food unhealthiness, will go mad under the stress of these conflicting pressures and force the public to believe that chaos is at hand. Since the public always believes the media, riots and societal breakdown would begin, and the madmen who started this mess will smoothly move into power by presenting themselves as the only bearers of the true balance between eating delicious food and staying healthy.

Sound odd? Well, it probably is. But consider - would rational decision makers close one of the more popular Student Union restaurants during the hours when half of its business comes in (ibid)?

Join with me in this. Force candidates for ASUA positions to realize the importance of grease and cholesterol. Write e-mail to administrators. Picket. Throw a tantrum.

At the very least, don't buy a Smo”thie until Louie's resumes its normal operating hours.

Chris Badeaux is the Opinions Editor . His column, 'Cynic on Parade,' appears every other Monday.

By Chris Badeaux (columnist)
Arizona Daily Wildcat
February 24, 1997