It is 2035: It is a calm spring morning in your generic Kiwi suburb of choice and other than being considerably warmer than decades past, thanks to that pesky business of climate change, nothing is all that different. You do not travel by jet pack to get the morning paper, you still wear worn-out sneakers in favour of gravity defying hover boots and your dog is still a dog rather than a bark-free, hair-free, defecation-free android-type creation, genetically engineered to cause minimal distress to society. The sun is blazing through a thinning ozone layer, cicadas herald the new day; it is an ideal morning in 2030s New Zealand.
That is until you see a vast blob starting to form in the distance, right in your path. The blob is not approaching quickly but it is unmistakably heading your way, heaving its huge mass in a slow but certain advance. A combination of terror, panic and disgust rises in your stomach and your throat starts to stick as you wonder how you might possibly avoid an encounter. You thought these things had been eradicated. Wiped from the surface of the planet in a brutal but necessary government plot to uphold the integrity of the human race. Finally, you hear the unmistakable thrum of a New Zealand Defence Force chopper as it materialises above the beast, extends a long metal arm and shoots, transforming the blob from a hulking lump into a large cloud of pink mist. The country sighs a simultaneous breath of relief as another fatty is ridded from earth. The war on obesity strikes again.
A study of renaissance era art and culture would suggest that once upon a time, we liked our humans with a little extra cushioning. In the earlier centuries, fat men were revered. Their considerable waistline was a clear indicator that you weren't a dirty thieving peasant. Meanwhile, if the lusty-eyed female nudes of Michelangelo, Cabanel and Botticelli were to turn up to a model casting today they would be undoubtedly be told to shed 30kg, invest in a tanning consultant and get on the treadmill, instead of laying about seductively on rocks.
Some would argue that tastes have simply changed, since the evolution of Nike and recreational sport society has simply realised the body is capable of both eating food as well as exercising, a combination which effectively burns off surplus calories and helps to maintain a healthy figure. Others, like 'fat activist' Cat Pause would claim this 'size-ist' behaviour, in which a normal sized body is considered healthier than a fat one, is yet another attempt by the skinny masses to rid the world of chubbies. The war on obesity, she claims, is all too real.
Oddly and, perhaps a little scarily, fat studies is a real movement and has even transformed itself into a field of study to help overweight people arm themselves with at least some long-winded academic phrases. You see humans are evil creatures by nature. In the past, we had fewer restrictions. We went about our business saying what we were going to do, doing what we said and generally speaking our minds. It was a movement called 'telling the truth' which has been largely eradicated today except among children who lack the right social breeding. Children are good at telling the truth, which is exactly why they are enemy number one.
