At Taco Bell, an inconspicuous sign reading “Due to a national shortage of yellow corn we are temporarily substituting white corn shells for our tacos and tostadas” casts a long shadow over the pseudo-ethnic cuisine. The dark recesses of that shadow, in fact, encompass the entire GW community and a nation in crisis. A silent war is being waged in America’s heartland, a struggle not covered by CNN, not reported to us by The Washington Post. Fearfully complicit, those media outlets distract us with stories of war abroad and celebrity breakups at home. Likewise, our government ignores the increasingly bloody conflict that stains our cornfields and discolors our tortillas. A nation looks the other way as rival corn cartels tear it apart. The GW community is for the first time face to face with the yellow and white underbelly of the Midwest.
Most ignore the warning signs figuring a yellow corn shortage just means more white corn. “What’s the difference?” is their mantra. They don’t see the whole picture. The vaunted yellow corn cartel has maintained a stranglehold on the tortilla and chip rackets for the last forty years. This powerful syndicate would not simply hand over one of its most lucrative markets. The war machine that is yellow corn no doubt prepares to strike with the fury that only produce manufactures and dental hygienists bring to bear. As I write, squadrons of crop dusters ready themselves for the foray and millions of pre-pubescent migrant farmers drill tirelessly. Unaware we go about our lives. But once this struggle begins, all our most cherished corn products will be scarce.
People think of corn only in its most raw form – small yellow or white kernels on a cob, in a can, creamed or mixed with other vegetables. The uses of corn go far beyond this, however. Refined corn products are essential to so many industries and show up in such diverse manufactured goods as car tires, film stock and wood. More than 70 percent of the infrastructure that drives the internet relies on corn and corn derivatives. We must also think of the implications for the World War II memorial which, in order to commemorate the role that vegetable played in our victory, was planned to be built completely from corn. The social implications are also dire. In a recent “Cosmo-Poll” corn beat out the cucumber as the most erotic of vegetables and ranked in the top five amongst all food and beverage products. In broad strokes, corn is what makes America great.
A full-scale corn shortage threatens to bring this country to its knees like a pudgy White House intern. Corn lines will go on for blocks. Angered citizens will take to the streets. Strange corn substitutes will yellow our teeth and digest in our stomachs. A befuddled George W. will declare a “crisis of confidence” following, as only he can, in the legacy of Jimmy Carter. Before we know it, Tom Hanks will have won another best actor award and Jams, enjoying a resurgence, will brightly color our disenchanted youth. The foretellers of the apocalypse will await only one more horseman.
So, my friends, see my clairvoyance in each ghostly white tortilla and every bleached out tostada. See it in each nude statuette upon a certain smarmy actor’s mantle. See it in crazily patterned three-quarter length garments. See it wherever you like, but realize our corn-fed, tastefully clad days are coming to an end. Until now our generation has been lucky. No major wars have been fought. No great famines have occurred. No great vegetables have perished from the earth. Now we are threatened with all three. Corn – who knew it would end like this?
