Sign of the end of civilization as we know it #438

When my folks bought our first microwave oven in 1978 or so (an Amana Radarange that literally required two people to heft it into the house), my dad referred to it as our "$400.00 hot dog warmer," for, in effect, that's what it was. Neato technology, mostly used to heat up hot dogs. But it was convenient!

Later on down in history, some now multimillionaire came up with the idea of putting popcorn kernels and oil into a waxed bag into a microwave, and came up with microwave popcorn. I don't think my children even know there's any other way to make it. And why should they? We actually own a hot air popper, vintage 1982, that I picked up at a garage sale for a buck because it was exactly the same one I had as a kid. (KMJ and Funkiller: insert "million things" joke here).

After awhile, it seemed there wasn't anything that couldn't be made in a microwave - those little cans of soup are really cool, and Katrina brought me home this hot fudge cake single-serving dealie that was not only fun to make (shades of the Easy Bake Oven the girls I grew up across the street from used the whole summer of 1977), but quite delicious, too.

Tonight, Emmie and I ran over to our local Wal-Mart to pick up some milk for tomorrow morning, and found what must surely be one of the seven bowls of wrath mentioned in Revelation. Give your self a second to prepare before you scroll down. Trust me, this is scary:

Yes, indeed, people, you're reading the bag correctly: my oldest girl is holding a package of microwave pork rinds.

Consider that for a minute.

Microwave pork rinds.

This means that someone, somewhere, said, y'know, pork rinds just aren't convenient enough. We need to make 'em nukable.

And, thus, the snack-food offering you see above.

My biggest question is this:

just why the hell would you ever need to microwave pork rinds, anyway? I mean, are they better served warm? Perhaps with some drawn butter and chopped leeks? Of course, the culinary permutations are simply endless on this one.

And all courtesy of your local Wal-Mart.

God bless America. Quickly, please.