How McDonald's Can Remedy my Hatred of Tibetan Monks

How McDonald's Can Remedy my Hatred of Tibetan Monks

The not so recent movie Super Size Me examined the effect McDonald’s food has on one’s body. The protagonist, a fu manchued Morgan Spurlock, ate McDonald’s for every meal over a month period. At the end of his starchy debauchery he found himself in dire need of detoxification and, probably, of a toilet to sit on for a month or so. Now, the obvious question is; why does any of this matter? The answer is simple; I’ve decided to make the world a better place. I want to become a McDonald’s franchise owner. I mean, Morgan Spurlock may have illustrated the awful consequences that eating greasy food every day has on one’s body, but it doesn’t really seem to be changing the eating habits of the world, you know. McDonald’s is still a profitable business. Here’s the rub. I don’t want to own just any McDonald’s; my goal is to franchise the golden arches on top of Mount Everest. I want the symbol of American decadence to adorn the pinnacle of human excellence and achievement.

Now, I can already hear the naysayers harping, “This franchise would be absolutely unprofitable even if you could build it.” But these people are missing the point. It doesn’t matter that this restaurant may or may not make money; it’s the fact that it exists at all that is important. It would obviously be a testament to the McDonald’s corporation’s narcissism and hubris if they were to place a franchise at the top of the highest mountain in the world. But it would also be an affirmation of their business model. There—literally—would be no more mountains to climb.

To illustrate what I mean, let’s put this into perspective. What’s more important; one unprofitable restaurant or boundless name recognition? The answer is obvious. I mean, there are unprofitable restaurants all over the place, but none of them exist on top of the highest peak in the world. Name recognition is, really, the only goal of every marketer in every business. McDonald’s already owns the lion’s share of the fast food market, but if they were able to put a restaurant on top of the world their competitors wouldn’t be playing the same game any more. They’d have their feet firmly on the ground while McDonalds’ head was up in the clouds.

So, I’ve (sort of) made an argument for McDonald’s to franchise Everest. I think it would be a GREAT marketing tool. It’s like Lex Luthor says in Superman, “They print more money all the time….Land’s the only thing they’re not making any more of.” Well, he’s absolutely right. There’s only one top of Mount Everest, and whoever gets there first lays claim to it (Kind of like the U.S. and the moon). So, it’s up to McDonald’s to get there first.

At this point I feel compelled to bare my intentions. I’ve been lying to you. Well, that’s not entirely true. I haven’t lied so much as I’ve been hiding the truth. I DO believe that this franchise would be a great marketing tool. The symbol of American capitalism on top of the pinnacle of human exploration and all….That is all true. But I have another, more subversive, reason for desiring that an American corporate entity infiltrate the Tibetan plateau, namely, I despise Tibetan monks.

Tibetan monks sit up in that high altitude all day (presumably) contemplating things like reality, morality, the meaning of life and the meaning of the word “is.” They try to find meaning in the human experience and they are able to do this because some well-meaning mooks in America (and the rest of the world) campaign against China for their freedom. Bullshit. There is only one rule that truly governs the world and it is that men take what they can get. And this is what makes the problem of these Tibetan monks so disturbing. They don’t campaign for anything so other people take it upon themselves to campaign for them. They rely on others to be the voice in the fog where no other had previously existed. Well, I want to put an end to this, and to this end McDonald’s can help.

Those golden arches are a symbol of everything those prurient monks have worked their entire life to avoid. They symbolize American materialism in the form of 39 cent hamburgers, fries and a coke (This price may need to rise given the high cost of transporting burgers five miles into the air.). Not only is this our opportunity to modernize these monks, it is our duty. In time, they will see capitalism as the liberator of their previous life and will come to understand that living in harmony with the land was not what God intended when he told us to go forth and multiply. I mean, our model has worked in the Middle East, right?

It is our duty as the world’s largest economy—with near endless resources—to finally illustrate to these free loading monks that we aren’t gonna take it anymore. If they use yak milk to subsist, we’ll create a yak farm, fence those ungulates in and start producing milk like they’ve never seen. And if they want it, they can cross those golden arches at the top of Everest and buy it like everyone else (Two dollars a quart, by the way). And when it’s all said and done, I’d like to think that these monks will come to realize that capitalism may not be the best system, it’s just better than all of the alternatives.

Perhaps McDonald’s may be all that is wrong with capitalism. This much may be true. But it’s no longer just our problem, you know? This is why it’s time to modernize these monks, to welcome them into the infinite abyss that is the world economy.

So, I’ve (sort of) made this argument for McDonald’s to relocate a store to the top of Everest. I’ve also given my reasons. 1. I think it would pay enormous dividends 2. I hate Tibetan monks. But there is still a third reason behind putting those golden arches on top of Everest and it has to do with my imagination and the reason I hate monks in the first place. In my mind I am imagining an alternate reality where there really is a fast food chain on top of Mount Everest. And I am imagining that some guy has just scaled the mountain and entered my restaurant. He has ordered a Big ‘N Tasty when he realizes that he has forgotten his wallet at the base. The question is; do I give him the hamburger? Right now, my guess is that if I were a monk then the answer would (probably) be “Yes”, but this is the wrong answer. The right answer is that this life is made up of rules like “no shirt, no shoes, no service” and “the trading of legal tender procures goods and/or services.” If the guy who just climbed to the top of Everest is starving, he obviously should not have put himself in that situation. We are not communists, you know, but these monks still live in a world where “giving of oneself” is not frowned upon as it should be. That’s why I want to bring the West to the East and that’s why I can say to the monks with all verisimilitude, “Welcome to capitalism. It means you can procure whatever your heart desires, as long as your heart doesn’t desire a soul.”