DAILY A Doctor has described our bulbous, calorie-laden consumption of lemon creams, toffee butternuts, and chocolaty devil mousse’s as ‘gut bombs.’ Those nirvana, heat seeking missives of cholesterol and wide waists that call to us like the Sirens do more than make us hefty, they render us unconscious. When I have polished off a pot pie, or deep fried bits, along with the ice cream that goes with, I can lay insensate for hours, oblivious to the day’s requirements. Not only sugar but white, crusty bread, begging its butter slathering, or pastry logs of sugary fruit commence days of high despair, disappointment, and oblivion. Surrendering long ago to the cheap, low-life grabby fingers of sugar addiction, I have been yanking myself around it ever since, and therefore am very taken with the term ‘gut bomb’ for a number of reasons. 1. It’s silly sounding, and very onomatopoetic, that is, a word that sounds like its referent, as in buzz, cookoo, or crack. Gut Bomb is creatively visual, therefore hard to ignore, whereas saturated fats, caloric intake, BMI index, blah blah blah do nothing but drive me toward the ‘fridge and guilt. 2. Gut Bomb implies the destruction is more than just from food. The expected explosion feels visceral, connected to heart and mind, the gut being only the first tank to blow in the assault. 3. The vividness demands I ask, “Why am I craving a gut bomb? What is the unmet need that is assuaged by this mound, this bomb of sugar, Crisco, butter, and salt? Or perhaps it is drugs, sex, rock ‘n roll, gambling, drink…even perfectionism. Why am I asking to go ‘out’ at this time? What is the alarm bell that needs bombing in order for me to feel safe and placated? If the dark henchman of… Read more »
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