I just ate the jalapeno poppers from jack-in-the-box for the first time and I guess i’m ashamed to say that they were awesome.
it’s a troubled subject: americanism.
On one hand, I’m an american, through and through. I was born in america to a set of parents that were born in america by parents who are deeply american. I have a lineage defined by mildly westward migrating state boundaries and an identity marked by incubated, state-specific territorial tendencies. My pride stems from my birthplace, a specific little nook of america that is built on native american reservations and a population dominated by non-english speakers and yet my matrilineal palate includes things like jello salad boasting the following ingredients: lime jello, walnuts, cottage cheese, and canned madarin oranges.
What the fuck?
This is not a new concept: american guilt.
And so, I strive to educate myself in the ways of non-public histories. Right now, I feel like i am deep into something with these jalapeno poppers (and, another confession: macaroni bites). Who eats this stuff!? I’m honestly getting an overwhelming sense of connection with a greater population. Fast food does not discriminate.
I guess that’s the problem.