When it comes to sandwiches, I'm like a damn goldfish with too much fish food: If there are enough sandwiches around, I'll keep eating until I die. I'm not afraid of many sandwiches. I'll eff-up a bacon-double-cheese tuna melt and chase it with grilled Canadian bacon and Gruyere on flatbread like it ain't no thing.
But I'm scared of Kevin Butler's sandwich. Deathly afraid.
According to the weekly sandwich report (seriously!) from NPR's Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me blog, The Kevin Butler is a bacon double cheeseburger compressed between two deep-fried Monte Cristo sandwiches.
Being a serious-minded organization with the public's best interests at heart, NPR actually made one of these artery-destroying abominations and ate it. The verdict: "It is undeniably delicious—you can't put that many lipids together and not make something tasty." Journalism takes courage, people
It's a good thing Kevin Butler is a fictional character created to sell PlayStation 3's, because if someone really ate this thing for lunch every day he'd be as fat as your mom. (I totally dissed your mom!) But seriously; what does this choice in sandwich say about the PlayStation 3? That it's so overstuffed with awesome you can hardly even consume all that goodness? Or is the message a darker one? Is this sandwich an ode to death? Is this sandwich, like the PS3, a way of courting your own demise and showing a dominance over Death itself? Is this a veiled critique of late Capitalism's over-consumption? What does it mean?