Food Fights, How To Enjoy

Food fights happen.

A food fight is a spontaneous form of chaotic collective behavior, in which food is thrown around a room, usually a cafeteria, in the manner of projectiles. It is usually started by one person, sometimes by accident. When it is not started by accident, the starter would normally scream “FOOD FIGHT!”, and throw any food at hand to get things started. Those who participate in food fights in cafeteria settings are usually punished severely. Food fights are a common element in slapstick comedy, with the pie in the face gag being especially prominent. Food fights are frequently featured in children’s television and books, usually as an example of destructive or reckless behaviour. It also seems to show some degree of coolness.

A food fight looks like this:

A pie fight looks like this:

We are informed by the all knowing Wiki

One famous food fight scene in a movie took place in National Lampoon’s Animal House, another took place in Hook, however the food fight was named a ‘Bangarang’ in the Lost Boys terminology. Food fights are rare in real life settings, despite being extremely common plot points in media such as cartoons. Though usually associated with juvenile settings such as schools, there are notable incidents that take place in more refined locations, such as the food fight at a lunch meeting of the Legislative Yuan of Taiwan.

Obviously, the all knowing Wiki doesn’t know about blogs.  Oftentimes food fights break out on blogs.  We’ve had an outbreak recently.  But unlike analog food fights, on blogs the food fight does not end in uproarious laughter at the sight of ridiculous and unnecessary waste of food, stained clothing, and floors covered in glop.  And unlike analog food fights, on blogs the food fight isn’t broken up by the principal of the junior high school.  Or the police.  Or the warden.  No, on blogs food fights can become an unpleasant epidemic, because while one is continuing the typing and expanding the food fight, one cannot see the face and the eyes of the person who is getting a pie in the face.  Or a hamburger in the hair.  Or a mustard stain on the shirt.  Or a cream pie.  Anywhere. And, of course, one cannot see the cream cheese in one’s own eyebrows, the pickel in one’s own pocket, and the chocolate cream in one’s ear.  If we could just see that, even for one nanosecond, we’d have to laugh at our spectacle. We’d be human and laugh at our absurdity.  We wouldn’t think it was all deadly serious and in earnest. How could we be doing this? we’d ask.

And we’d also laugh warily at any food that seemed still to be edible, all those claims of aggression and  bullying and victimhood and bad manners. All just typred words. We’d laugh at the epithets and name calling.  More typed words.  We’d laugh at them as being ridiculous because we all know that we’ve been throwing food.  Or watching others throw food.  Or egging them on.  Or decrying the food fight.  Or participating in the food fight.  Or wearing a garbage bag so we don’t get our clothing messed up.

Look.  When a food fight breaks out, there’s no avoiding it.  Everybody is affected.  Everybody gets involved, whether they want to or not.  And we all have our own style of involvement. If we looked, we’d see that we, all of us have food all over us.  We’re, all of us, responsible for the colossal mess.

We might even laugh that in a wonderful blog with a great community devoted to making a better world, the people who are going to make the world better are right now indisposed.   And distracted.  And otherwise occupied.  Some are actually in despair and angry.  They’re not talking about making the world better.  Or making the world better.  No. They’re making a mess. Or reacting to the mess. For reasons they themselves cannot really explain, they cannot stop finding offenses that lead to more throwing of food.

What is wrong with us?  We should laugh.  Our humanness, our distractions, our follies, our beliefs, even those, things we often take so seriously, are so fallible.  They should make us laugh.  We should be howling with laughter.

How can you take seriously anything said to you by somebody wearing lunch?  Even if it seems meanspirited.  How can you throw another creme brulee?  Haven’t we had enough?