I awoke this morning to some unsettling news from The Freakin' Deacon of The Church of What's Happening Now. The Sandwich of Knowledge has arrived.
Its appearance indicates that the sandwipocolypse is nigh. This beastly pile of protein counts for at least two of the requisite four horsemen.
According to This is why you're fat, TSoK is built as such: "The bottom tier contains eight strips of bacon, six sausages and four burger paddies; followed by a second tier of black pudding; topped by a third tier comprised of two diced chicken breasts and six fried eggs."
It took me several readings to understand the entirety of this creation. The gospel comes from one known simply as "Luke." I'll attempt to walk you through it.
Bottom tier: Bacon (eight strips), sausage (six links) and burger patties (four).
That's the equivalent of two double bacon hamburgers and one hearty breakfast. In other words, three square meals, all at once. In one layer! Madness. Not even any regard for traditional meal boundaries; breakfast, lunch and dinner are all mashed into a single sandwich tier. Moving on.
Middle tier: Black pudding (one thick blob).
Never having had black pudding, I'm not all that qualified to talk about it. I do know that it's among the more sinister breakfast puddings, and that it's a key component of the "full breakfast" eaten in the UK. Wikipedia says: "Black pudding or (less often) blood pudding is an English term for sausage made by cooking blood with a filler until it is thick enough to congeal when cooled." Wow.
Top tier: Chicken breast (two) and fried eggs (six).
About two breakfasts and a dinner here. I'd say something about how gratuitous this tier is, but I'm still too distraught by the middle tier to think about it.
Bread: About one loaf. There appear to be some tomatoes inextricably strewn about the base as well.
Tomatoes?
If the Dagwood Sandwich is TNT, The Sandwich of Knowledge is the Atom Bomb. Kent has taken a dangerous, but manageable, creation and blown it way out of proportion to an earthcrushing place we can't come back from. Should someone dare eat TSoK, he or she would gain Complete World Knowledge and become either The Beast or John Hodgman (maybe both?).
Even so, I'm proud of Luke who whoever created this thing. Yes, it means our imminent demise, but it also shows the spirit of excess is alive and well not only in the U.S., but in lands as exotic as England or possibly Ireland. For all my hyperbole, I honestly support this endeavor. There are worst ways to go out than by a sandwich.
Its appearance indicates that the sandwipocolypse is nigh. This beastly pile of protein counts for at least two of the requisite four horsemen.
According to This is why you're fat, TSoK is built as such: "The bottom tier contains eight strips of bacon, six sausages and four burger paddies; followed by a second tier of black pudding; topped by a third tier comprised of two diced chicken breasts and six fried eggs."
It took me several readings to understand the entirety of this creation. The gospel comes from one known simply as "Luke." I'll attempt to walk you through it.

That's the equivalent of two double bacon hamburgers and one hearty breakfast. In other words, three square meals, all at once. In one layer! Madness. Not even any regard for traditional meal boundaries; breakfast, lunch and dinner are all mashed into a single sandwich tier. Moving on.
Middle tier: Black pudding (one thick blob).
Never having had black pudding, I'm not all that qualified to talk about it. I do know that it's among the more sinister breakfast puddings, and that it's a key component of the "full breakfast" eaten in the UK. Wikipedia says: "Black pudding or (less often) blood pudding is an English term for sausage made by cooking blood with a filler until it is thick enough to congeal when cooled." Wow.
Top tier: Chicken breast (two) and fried eggs (six).
About two breakfasts and a dinner here. I'd say something about how gratuitous this tier is, but I'm still too distraught by the middle tier to think about it.
Bread: About one loaf. There appear to be some tomatoes inextricably strewn about the base as well.
Tomatoes?
If the Dagwood Sandwich is TNT, The Sandwich of Knowledge is the Atom Bomb. Kent has taken a dangerous, but manageable, creation and blown it way out of proportion to an earthcrushing place we can't come back from. Should someone dare eat TSoK, he or she would gain Complete World Knowledge and become either The Beast or John Hodgman (maybe both?).
Even so, I'm proud of Luke who whoever created this thing. Yes, it means our imminent demise, but it also shows the spirit of excess is alive and well not only in the U.S., but in lands as exotic as England or possibly Ireland. For all my hyperbole, I honestly support this endeavor. There are worst ways to go out than by a sandwich.
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