Get the Monkey Off Your Back

Food is a drug. Break the shackles of addiction and learn to eat air! In this detailed guide, Dr. Robert Jones, MD, PhD, DDS, ODD gives you the practical, step-by-step advice you need to transition to the air-only diet.

Common Questions About the Air-Only Diet:

Q: Eating air? Are you crazy?

A: I am a medical doctor with more than forty years of clinical experience. An Obesity Epidemic is sweeping across our great nation. Eating air is the answer.

Q: Isn’t there a risk of malnutrition?

A: Not at all! Air contains all the vitamins, minerals, electrolytes and essential amino acids your body needs.

Q: A friend of mine went on the air-only diet and starved to death. Will I die too?

A: Lies, lies and more lies! Propaganda spread by the agro-business special interests that run Washington. They will do anything to keep you down, in ignorance of the truth!

A Million Dieters Can’t be Wrong!

Every day the emails pour in:

“Thank you, Dr. Robert Jones, MD, PhD, DDS, ODD! Oh, thank you! I’ve eaten nothing but air for the last two months and I’ve lost eight hundred pounds! My husband says I’ll make a fine skeleton! I can’t wait!!!”

“Damn this air is tasty.”

“Dear Dr. Jones, What a discovery! You make Einstein look like an ignoramus. We hereby award you the Prizes for Medicine, Chemistry and Peace.” —the Nobel Committee

Also in This Groundbreaking Diet Book:

- Lunge and Chomp — Learn the Secrets of Air-Eating Technique!

- The Twelve Steps to Food Freedom — Anyone Can Do It!

- The Hidden Menace in Our Society That Can Prevent You From Eating Air — and How We as a Nation Can Overcome It!

About the Author

An acclaimed pioneer in the field of Airitarianism, Dr. Robert Jones, MD, PhD, DDS, ODD has dedicated his life to freeing food-eaters from slavery to addictive caloric substances. That’s why he wrote Food-Free at Last—to expose the truth the agro-business special interests don’t want you to know. And that’s why he’s running for President in 2015. It’s time to put this country on a diet—the air-only diet, the only diet proven to work. It’s time to cure our great nation of the Obesity Epidemic sweeping from coast to coast. It’s time to end the oligarchy’s influence on our political process and bring true freedom back to America. Go the Power of Air!

Food-Free at Last:

How I Learned to Eat Air

By

Dr. Robert Jones, MD, PhD, DDS, ODD

With

J.M. Porup

Food-Free at Last:

How I Learned to Eat Air

Copyright © 2012 by Dr. Robert Jones, MD, PhD, DDS, ODD

& J.M. Porup

Some Rights Reserved.

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 4.0 International License (BY-NC-SA).

This book is not intended to diagnose, treat or prevent any illness or condition. As with any diet, consult a medical professional before taking the decision to consume exclusively air.

Published by

The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption

epub ISBN: 978-0-9918022-0-3

kindle/mobi ISBN: 978-0-9918022-1-0

ASIN: B00AEEBLO6

www.FoodFreeAtLast.com

For America

The only country in the world

where innovation such as mine

would even be possible

Yes! You Can Eat Air!

Food is a drug.

This truth is so simple, so obvious, I’m amazed that no one else has thought of it before. You don’t need to eat. Not food, anyway. That’s a myth. All you need is air.

I don’t know why I’m amazed. Many others, I am sure, have made the same startling breakthrough, only to have their research quashed by the agro-business special interests that run this country. What I am proposing is nothing short of revolution: to throw off the shackles of slavery and free ourselves from the Tyranny of Food.

But the price of freedom is high. The air-only diet means bankruptcy for those multinational conglomerates, whose business model consists of hooking young consumers on their devilish products—Frankenfoods engineered in a laboratory to be as habit-forming as possible, and laced with high-fructose corn syrup, partially hydrogenated soybean oil and genetically modified wheat gluten.

No wonder an Obesity Epidemic is sweeping across America, filling our hospitals with patients suffering from diabetes, heart disease and cancer. Like the CEOs of Big Tobacco and Big Pharma, the thousand-dollar suits who run Big Food would rather our great nation sink under the weight of this plague than let us know the truth.

Imagine the consequences. Fast-food franchises—empty. Supermarkets—closed. Food labs—shuttered. Humanity—freed from the greatest scourge that man has ever known.

Make no mistake: the revolution is coming. It will not be easy. But you are taking the first step toward freedom by reading this book.

By now, no doubt, you’ve seen the government’s so-called scientists—like the Surgeon General—denouncing me on national television. They say eating air is impossible. They claim that prolonged fasting can lead to starvation and death. Please. Do not listen to these people. They are nothing more than paid shills for the food cartels whose entire profit—nay, entire existence—depends on our sheep-like obedience.

Remember tobacco ads from the 1950s? “Smoke cigarettes! They’re good for you!” A message approved by Eisenhower’s Surgeon General, a crew-cut sock puppet of Philip Morris.

Think for yourself. Listen to your conscience. To your stomach. Finish this book, then you too will know the truth: air contains all the vitamins, minerals, electrolytes and essential amino acids your body needs—all without a single calorie.1 Eat all you want, you’ll never get fat.

Not just any kind of air, either. Oxygen, to be precise.2 The other gases that compose our atmosphere—nitrogen, carbon dioxide, helium, argon, and the trace elements—they don’t even come close to packing the nutritional punch of good ol’ O2.

Oxygen comes in three different isotopes. Regular O-16 is the kind we breathe. O-17 and O-18, whose atomic nuclei contain one and two extra neutrons respectively, are the edible isotopes—especially the heavier O-18.3 You can even train your digestion to split a mixed O2 molecule, so that you breathe in the O-16 and digest the O-17 or O-18. Let me tell you, there is nothing like a meal of O-18. Fills you up for days.

How do I know all this?

I am a medical doctor with more than thirty years of clinical experience treating obese patients, plus ten more working as a research scientist, struggling to find a cure for this dread disease. My discovery—the greatest breakthrough in the history of humanity—is the result of that decade of intense study and experimentation.

Why have my findings not appeared in the scientific press? Because the “lovers of truth” who run those “peer-reviewed” journals refuse to publish my findings. Does this surprise you? It shouldn’t. Who pays for their fancy laboratories, their Mercedes-Benzes and BMWs, their country club memberships with their all-you-can-eat buffets? The agro-business special interests, that’s who.

Fine. So show us the proof, my critics clamor. Let’s see some hard data.

How convenient. They know very well that a team of hackers broke into my lab network and corrupted all my files, including the off-site backup. And that on the same day, an arsonist burned down my lab and my house—the latter while I was still inside—thus destroying all paper copies of The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, my self-published scientific journal. And now they ask to see the hard data.

But I have an answer for them, and for you. The great discoveries—like E=mc2—are always simple. You can easily reproduce my results in the comfort of your own home. And you don’t need any special equipment. Just open a window and let in a fresh breeze.

I, Dr. Robert Jones, MD, PhD, DDS, ODD, am living proof that the air-only diet works. I used to look my age—a fat, sagging wreck of a man at seventy, and on death’s door. After a year of nothing but air and distilled water, I look and feel like thirty-five again! [See Fig. A]

Fig. A

What further proof do you need of the rejuvenating powers of oxygen consumption?

What’s more, as millions of my followers will attest, by adopting this new diet, we advance the human race to the next stage of evolution.

Because evolution is not random. It is Nature’s tool to guide our species to the apex of biological perfection—to our destiny—to outgrow our primitive dependence on calories and eat only air.4

It is up to us to embrace that destiny. And we must do so in the face of entrenched opposition: the enemies of progress will do anything to hold us back.

The oligarchy tried to bribe me, you know. But I scorn their filthy coin. Then the harassment started. The arson. The anonymous death threats. The NSA spies on my email, taps my phone. Plainclothes policemen follow me wherever I go. The ruling junta in Washington will do anything to keep the population in ignorance of the truth.

But I will not be silent. I will not back down. I am risking my life to expose corruption at the highest levels of government. Here I stand, I cannot do otherwise.

How can we as a nation of free people permit this intolerable position to continue? Abraham Lincoln freed the blacks from slavery. It is time for us to rise up and liberate ourselves from that Grim Overseer, Food. Like our Founding Fathers of old, let us take as our rallying cry, “Live Free or Die!” Only then can we cure obesity once and for all, end the influence of the calorie cartels in our nation’s capital, and inaugurate a new era of freedom for all Americans.

The truth, indeed, will set us free.

The following pages contain a Message of Hope. Hope for a Food-Free World. By the time you finish this book, you too will possess the secrets of eating air. And then, when you have joined me on this new, higher plane of human existence, and we stand, hand in hand, looking down at the masses struggling to follow us, you too will exclaim, “Food-Free at Last! Food-Free at Last! Thank God Almighty I’m Food-Free at Last!”

The Drug Addiction You Inherited

Imagine you were born genetically designed to consume marijuana.

Imagine that an entire drug processing system—consisting of multiple organs filling most of your body cavity—digested the marijuana. That without your daily dose of this addictive drug, you’d go into severe withdrawal and eventually die. Imagine further that you pass on this addiction to your children, and generation after generation continue to suffer, enslaved to this vile weed.

How is food any different?

Food is a drug, and the human body is designed to process that drug.5 The need for calories is so ingrained in our genome that we are incapable of conceiving of an alternate lifestyle. It is precisely this biological imperative that makes it so easy for the agro-business special interests to enslave us. They exploit our biology to fill their coffers.

What are teeth for? To chew your favorite drug. What is your stomach for? To break down that drug into its component parts, making it easier for your body to get high. What is the purpose of the large intestine but to excrete the remains of your drug, the non-volatile components that do nothing to intoxicate you?

Consider how the World Health Organization defines drug addiction.6 As you read this definition, ask yourself: does this not describe perfectly our relationship to food?

Drug addiction is a state of periodic or chronic intoxication detrimental to the individual and society, produced by repeated consumption of a drug (natural or synthetic). Its characteristics include: (1) an overpowering desire or need (compulsion) to continue taking the drug and to obtain it by any means; (2) a tendency to increase the dose; and (3) a psychological and physiological dependence on the effect of the drug.

Is it not clear that food meets this definition? We consume foodstuffs—or addictive caloric substances, as they should properly be called—both chronically (every day) and periodically (three times a day). We consume both natural substances (vegetables, grains, meats) as well as the synthetic variety (the engineered poisons that the cartels peddle). The consumption of these substances is detrimental to the individual (obesity and associated disease burden) and to society (spiraling health care costs).

The damage to society, in fact, goes far beyond the expense of health care. For instance, if only we were free from the Tyranny of Food, destruction of the Amazon rainforests would end. With no more market for beef, cattle ranchers would let their haciendas return to jungle. The extra oxygen produced would end global warming—and provide more O-18 for hungry mouths around the world.

This is just the tip of the iceberg. Ending food addiction will solve every issue of our day: food stamps, farming subsidies, famine in Africa, sewer infrastructure expenditure, bad airline meals—all eliminated in a single stroke by evolving to an air-only diet.

But the insidiousness of calories doesn’t end there. Food contains mood-altering chemicals that give people energy and cause aggression. Aggression that leads to marital spats, barroom fisticuffs and armed conflict between nations. Without the ancient stimulant of food affecting our personalities, there would be no violence of any kind. Do you understand? World peace is within our grasp. With twenty thousand nuclear warheads in the world today, how much time do we have left to avert armageddon?7

An armageddon we can avoid only by admitting the true addictiveness of food. Can anyone honestly deny it? The withdrawal symptoms can be terrible, and a “hungry” man will go to any lengths to satisfy his compulsion—theft, assault, even murder. Is this not what the WHO means by an “overpowering desire to obtain [the drug] by any means”?

As for a “tendency to increase the dose,” most people—even when not suffering withdrawal—will tend to eat more, simply because of the pleasure the drug affords them. Just like any other drug addict.

Finally, it should be obvious to any clear-eyed observer that food is both psychologically and physiologically addictive. Patients I’ve treated over the course of my long career tell me they daydream about their next bar of chocolate. Others report fantasizing about cheesecake, or their mouths will water at the mention of pizza. This occurs even when they are not “hungry.” Like other psychologically addictive drugs, such as marijuana and cocaine, food stimulates the pleasure center of the cerebral cortex. Each time you eat, you reinforce this compulsion.

However, mankind’s physiological dependence on food is our gravest concern. Like a heroin addict, if our species’ first drug of choice—that is, food—is taken away, we will die. The withdrawal symptoms get worse and worse, followed by weakening of the body, irritability, sometimes convulsions, then delirium and, finally, death. It is this severe, life-threatening dependence that, above all else, we seek to sever.

But how?

My research stalled at this point. I despaired. I was forced to continue consuming calories. It was only much later, after long struggle and painful trial and error, that a completely different field of study gave me the clue.

The answer lies in evolution.

Our (R)evolutionary Destiny

Evolution is commonly misunderstood to mean survival of the fittest. The strong survive and reproduce, the weak die young. Natural selection, at least according to Darwin, entails a long, slow process based on the interplay between random mutations and fitness for the environment—incremental, involuntary improvements over billions of years.

But are the mutations as random as we think? Recent research calls this into question.8 Scientists have studied human development, looking for signs of evolution during our known history. Their conclusions are striking: mankind can adapt far more quickly to environmental pressures than evolution alone can explain.

A hodge-podge theory has emerged to account for this new data: “evolutionary adaptation.”9 Mankind evolves, according to the theory, but he also adapts. Unlike regular adaptation—for instance, a temporary increase in metabolic rate during winter to keep warm—evolutionary adaptation attempts to explain rapid, hereditary changes to the human genome in certain groups of people.

Science has documented numerous cases of this process.10

Consider lactose intolerance.11 Most humans are unable to digest dairy products. This is normal. Milk is “food” for babies. By the age of two or three, the human body loses its ability to digest milk.

There is an exception to this rule: Northern Europeans, most of whom possess a genetic mutation that allows them to consume lactose. According to the theory of evolutionary adaptation, this change took place ten thousand years ago, roughly the date at which mankind began to practice the despicable arts of agriculture and animal husbandry.

But this theory raises more questions than it answers. In pure evolutionary terms, five hundred generations is lightning quick. And while the ability to digest lactose may marginally increase “nutrition,” are we to believe that Scandinavians who couldn’t eat cheese died before reaching the age of reproduction? The rest of the world is lactose intolerant, and they get along fine without dairy products.

Consider also Tibet.12 The people of that mountainous country are uniquely adapted to high altitudes. Sherpas of the Himalayas have developed a much higher tolerance to low-oxygen environments than the rest of humanity. Sherpas have even climbed Mt. Everest without oxygen tanks—something no Western mountaineer would ever consider doing.

Scientists believe this evolutionary adaptation took place at some point in the last three thousand years, when the ethnic Han Chinese first migrated to the Tibetan plain. This proposed timeline is even quicker than that of the cheese-eating Scandinavians. Are we to believe that early Tibetans died of altitude exposure before the age of fourteen?

How can such an adaptive mutation happen so quickly? It violates all the principles of evolution.

Our final example is that great mystery of the human race, the variety of skin colors our species possesses. The standard explanation suggests that man evolved from monkeys in Africa and spread north and east, lightening in color as he went.13 The reason: to maximize vitamin D absorption outside the sunny tropics.

Vitamin D deficiency can result in rickets or osteoporosis. But rickets is as much a disease of “malnutrition” as it is of lack of sunlight exposure, and osteoporosis is a disease of old age. Both may shorten life span, it’s true, but hardly enough to prevent dark-skinned people in northern latitudes from having children. Today there are many people of African descent living in Europe and North America, yet they seem to have no trouble producing offspring.

So what in the h-word is going on?

When a scientist encounters data that cannot be explained by existing theory, he must revise his underlying assumptions and look for a new theory to explain the facts. This can be a painful process for a scientist, because he, like anyone who is forced to question his dearest and most cherished beliefs, is reluctant to admit when he is wrong. But a man who is dedicated to the truth, as I am, has no choice but to sacrifice his favorite theories on the Altar of Science, and accept the conclusions the new data support, no matter how much he might dislike the consequences.

How is it, I asked myself, that whenever humanity needed to evolve on short notice, the evolution happened so quickly? The randomness of natural selection began to look suspiciously like coincidence. I perceived a pattern in the chaos.14 Were those mutations really random? Or were they—was it possible?—the act of some unseen hand, directing mankind toward some unknown goal?

Preposterous! I thought. An unseen hand meant what—God? What a joke. Many of you readers no doubt think the same. I had been a doctor and scientist for more than forty years. There was no evidence to support the existence of a supernatural being.

But then a little voice inside my head began to wonder: what if Science itself was flawed? We scientists limit ourselves to what can be observed or measured. Yet there are important aspects of life that Science is powerless to explain. Can Science explain the beauty of a sunset, offer a mathematical formula for the smell of a rose, or expound a theory why Shakespeare moves us?

I looked again at the evidence. The pace of human progress is astounding these days. From horse and buggy to the moon in two generations, to the microchip and superconductors in one more. As a species, we are evolving—adapting to our environment—faster and faster, at an almost exponential rate—but to what end? Would it be possible to evolve in a year—a few months—or even instantaneously?

I formed a new hypothesis.15 We began as pure animal, invertebrates mindlessly crawling out of the primordial ooze. Now we are creatures of flesh and blood that possess a self-aware spirit—“soul” if you wish to use that word. We are capable of seeing, feeling and being so much more than mere animal flesh. Is it not possible that our current state is a stepping stone on an evolutionary trajectory toward pure spirithood?

And what would such spirits consume—but air?

I’ll say it for you: that’s crazy talk. At the time I thought so too. But, as a scientist, no matter how preposterous the theory, I knew that only rigorous experimentation could disprove my hypothesis. If I were wrong, my data would tell me. The question was simple: could I bootstrap myself to the next stage of human evolution, and learn to eat air?

I decided to try.

Twelve Steps to Food Freedom

My journey to the Promised Land of atmospheric consumption was long and arduous, full of struggle, wrong turnings and dead ends. There were times when I doubted myself and my purpose, and wondered if I was crazy to think that I could eat air. But, finally, after much trial and error, I succeeded.16

I discovered a way forward. All mankind will rejoice to hear the good news. I taught myself to eat air—and you can too!

What’s more, the path to eating air is easy, far easier than I ever imagined. You don’t have to replicate my struggle. I did it the hard way so you don’t have to.

This chapter outlines the concrete, specific steps necessary to move from your current addicted state to complete food freedom. By employing a gentle process of eliminating one food group at a time, these twelve steps will help you transition smoothly and painlessly to the air-only diet.

Step One: Eat Simple

Foods to Eliminate: Junk food. Fast food. Processed food.

This first and most important step is the one the agro-business special interests fear most.

Read labels. Was this “food” made in a factory? Does it come in a box? Does it list more than two or three ingredients? Does just trying to pronounce the chemical experiment contents make you cross-eyed? That’s because it’s just that—a chemistry experiment with you as the lab rat, an experiment that is destroying your life, your health, your body and your mind.

As for fast food, do I really need to say it? This stuff is the heroin of food addiction.17 Greasy hamburgers. French fries. Bubbly “soft” drinks made of sugar syrup, caffeine and God knows what else. Need I tell you how addictive chocolate and pizza can be?

Snap out of it!

Cook your own food from fresh ingredients. No prepared meals, no frozen food. Shop at your local farmers’ market. Buy produce in season. Bake your own bread. Avoid all processed food.

Like my old granddad used to say, “Eat simple.”

Step Two: What You Kill, Kills You

Foods to Eliminate: Beef. Pork. Lamb. Chicken. Turkey. Duck. Etc.

Meat is poison. Study after study confirm the link between meat and poor health.18 Consuming the flesh of our fellow creatures clogs our arteries,19 causes colon cancer,20 and has been linked to a whole host of other diseases.21 22 23 After junk food, fast food and processed food, meat is the worst possible thing you can put in your body.

These studies also show that vegetarians and vegans live longer than meat-eaters.24 What they refuse to show is that air-eaters live even longer than vegetarians—perhaps forever.

Some nutritionists claim that meat is a good source of protein, and the best source of bio-available vitamin B12.25 Hello! Oxygen contains all the protein you need, plus all the bio-available B12 you could possibly want.26

At the end of this step, the only animal flesh still acceptable is fish.

Step Three: Not Meant for Human Consumption

Foods to Eliminate: Milk. Cheese. Butter. Yoghurt. Etc.

Dairy Kills.27

They ought to put that on cartons of milk, just like they do on packets of cigarettes. And cheese? Butter? You might as well slather your arteries with fat and beg for a heart attack.

Nutritionists claim that dairy products are an important source of calcium, necessary for strong bones and teeth.28 To which I reply: what do we need teeth for once we’re all eating air? And as for the calcium your bones need, do I really have to point out what all of us know by now—that oxygen is just full of the stuff?29

Study30 after study31 after study32 proves that eating dairy fat contributes to coronary artery disease, gall stones, fatty liver and diabetes.

Milk is food for baby cows. Not for humans. Is it any wonder, then, that dairy products are so noxious to our health?

Step Four: Not Safe in Any Amount

Foods to Eliminate: Beer. Wine. Spirits.

For years, the alcohol peddlers have been paying scientists to create bogus studies33 showing that a drink or two a day is beneficial to the human organism.

Nothing could be further from the truth.

Alcohol is toxic in even the smallest quantities.34 Alcohol abuse—and all consumption of intoxicating liquids is abuse—shortens life span, kills brain cells and contributes to lost productivity, not to mention motor vehicle accidents.35

If you’re serious about taking care of your health, managing your weight and, above all else, learning to eat air, then you need to cut beer, wine and spirits from your diet immediately.

Step Five: Nothing Refined About It

Foods to Eliminate: White flours. Sugar (including brown sugar, honey, treacle, etc.).

In Step One, you cut all processed food from your diet. But what about the ingredients you cook with at home?

Refined white flour—as well as sugar of any kind—is a major cause of diabetes, heart disease and cancer.36 Restrict yourself to the consumption of whole grains only, and avoid sweets entirely.

Step Six: Cut Out the Cholesterol

Food to Eliminate: Eggs.

By now, you should be eating a macrobiotic diet: brown rice, vegetables, beans, a little fish, an egg once in a while, with a piece of fruit for dessert, and perhaps a handful of nuts.

In this step, consider the detrimental effects of cholesterol and saturated fat on the human organism. Scientific studies have proven the link between egg cholesterol and arteriosclerosis, gall stones, liver disease and diabetes.37

The traditional Christian Lenten fast had the right idea—no eggs for forty days. You must go one better. Cut all eggs from your diet, permanently.

Step Seven: If It Smells Fishy, That’s Because It Is

Foods to Eliminate: All seafood, including fish, prawns, lobster, crab, caviar, etc.

Many people are under the mistaken impression that fish is good for you. It’s not.

Fish has never been suitable food for humans, but these days it is downright poisonous.

The surge in world population has been accompanied by a surge in demand for seafood. The resulting overfishing has severely damaged marine ecosystems. Furthermore, toxic waste dumping means wild ocean fish contain high levels of mercury, lead and other heavy metals38 (poisons from which oxygen is thankfully free).

The alternative is fish cultivated in fish “farms.” Cramped into tight pens, tormented by parasites and infections, and fed high doses of antibiotics in a futile attempt to manage these diseases, the resulting product bears no relation to the real thing. Take farmed salmon. Did you know their diet includes pink food coloring to mimic a wild salmon’s flesh?39

Eating fish is not only detrimental to your health, it is not sustainable. During this step, cut all seafood from your diet.

Step Eight: Fructose Is Still Sugar

Foods to Eliminate: Fruit.

Fruit is Nature’s candy.

It is still candy.

What did we learn in Step Five? To cut all sweets and candy from our diet.

Fruit is nothing but sugar. Nutritionists used to think that fructose was less malignant than sucrose. New research disproves this theory.40 Sugar in all its forms contributes directly to diabetes and pancreatic cancer. This is what killed Steve Jobs. A fruititarian for most of his life, he pounded his pancreas with fruit sugar all day long, until that much-abused organ withered under the assault.

Like the rest of us, Jobs had been brainwashed into thinking that fruit was good for him. You’ve heard the old saying, “An apple a day keeps the doctor away”? A marketing slogan of the American Apple Growers Association.41

I rest my case.

Step Nine: Eating Fat Makes You Fat

Foods to Eliminate: Vegetable oils, including olive oil, rapeseed oil, peanut oil, margarine, etc. Also nuts.

At this stage, you may still be consuming small quantities of extra virgin olive oil, almond butter or the occasional handful of (unsalted) cashews.

This practice is slowly killing you.42

The liver struggles to digest fat, resulting in increased blood cholesterol levels, gallstones and millions of unnecessary gallbladder operations every year.

If you’re serious about losing weight and keeping it off, it is imperative that you cut all fat from your diet.

Step Ten: Something Rotten in Your Septic Tank

Food to Eliminate: Beans (including lentils, split peas, kidney beans, etc.)

Beans are a staple of the macrobiotic and vegan diets. Adherents of these bizarre diets claim the protein makes you feel full, and contributes to steady blood-sugar levels. Further, goes this doctrine, since beans are full of fiber, they keep you regular.

Let’s address these claims one by one. First of all, air is a better source of protein than beans will ever be. Two, nothing beats air for making you feel full. Three, I guarantee your blood-sugar levels will be lower on the air-only diet than on a diet that includes beans.43

Finally, “keeping regular” is just a euphemism bean addicts use to justify food abuse. You wouldn’t need to “keep regular” on an air-only diet! Your colon is a completely unnecessary organ.44 Food ferments and rots in that fleshy septic tank you carry inside you wherever you go, emitting methane gas and poisoning the air around you, making it inedible for any nearby oxygen-eaters.

Step Eleven: Vegetables Are Bad for You

Foods to Eliminate: Vegetables.

Nutritionists claim that eating vegetables is—wait for it—good for your health. They claim that a diet high in veggies can help ward off cancer and other diseases.

Isn’t it clear by now that food is not safe in any amount? That eating is what causes cancer in the first place, and that by eliminating all food from your diet, you guarantee that you will never be sick—in fact, that you will live forever?

Step Twelve: Atkins Was Right

Food to Eliminate: Carbs.

You are now subsisting on bread and water.

Congratulations! One step away from total food freedom. A final surge and then you’re there.

Throw your bread away. Or brown rice, or whatever your whole grain complex carbohydrate of choice is. Do it now. Can you feel the freedom bursting from your breast? That’s what the Founding Fathers felt when they signed the Declaration of Independence.45

Gandhi almost made it. He too was a pioneer on the road to food freedom. Regretfully, he only made it to Step Twelve before being assassinated by hit men hired by the agro-business special interests who even then ran the world.

For those of you familiar with the Atkins Diet, this is the only thing Atkins got right—carbs are bad. They make you fat. They are an addictive caloric substance.

Success!

Ready to eat your first bite of air? Are you sure? Have you followed my Twelve Steps to Food Freedom? Are you completely food-free?

If so, then turn the page. But be warned: your life will never be the same again.

Lunge and Chomp

In this chapter, I will explain the precise physical motions required to consume air. It’s not hard, but does require a bit of practice to get right.

The first thing you must do is ensure there is plenty of fresh air circulating near your head. Near your mouth. For instance, you don’t want to eat air in poorly ventilated or enclosed spaces. Avoid eating basement air, for example.

Some people find it easier to eat air standing up, others sitting down. Makes no difference. All depends on what you’re comfortable with. There’s no need to sit in a lotus position or contort yourself in some strange yoga manner. This is science, not mysticism. There’s nothing magical about eating air. Anyone can do it.

Here’s what works for me: I stand with my feet apart, hands at my sides. I make sure I’m surrounded by plenty of fresh air. Nothing worse than stale air. Open a window, figure out which way the wind is blowing.

When you’re ready, open your mouth as wide as you can. Feel the air tickle your tonsils. Now lunge your jaw forward and chomp. Lunge and chomp. This is key. You want to fill your mouth with those succulent oxygen molecules and then chomp down before they have a chance to escape.

It took me a lot of trial and error to arrive at this method. I tried inhaling through my nose, but that didn’t work. The oxygen kept getting caught in my lungs. Eating air and breathing are two separate processes.

Another trick is to seal your lips and pinch your nose after you chomp. Otherwise the oxygen leaks out through your nose and mouth and you’re left with an unsatisfying main course.

Proper digestion begins in the mouth. Saliva separates O2 molecules into its component atoms, releasing O-16 to your lungs, and breaking down O-17 and O-18 into the quarks, neutrinos and super-strings that our bodies need to survive as spiritual beings.46 Unfortunately, your salivary glands have been genetically trained to digest addictive caloric substances.

But we can retrain them.

Once you’ve begun to lunge and chomp, it will take at least a month for your salivary glands to adapt and begin producing the right kind of enzyme.

At this point we move on to the most important step: chewing. Chew your food a hundred times, your parents used to say. Chew your air at least a thousand. You’ve got to get things moving around to give your saliva a chance to attack those oxygen molecules. And don’t worry if you have no teeth—smashing your toothless gums together will have the same effect.

Remember, you’re holding your nose during all of this, and you don’t want to pass out—you need to breathe air too, remember?—so chew your air as rapidly as you can. Your face may turn purple at this point. Do not be concerned. This is normal.

Then swallow. Drain every last cubic inch of that atmospheric goodness down your throat. This is the trickiest part. Most people are not accustomed to swallowing air. It is an uncomfortable sensation at first, and takes a while to get used to.

There! Doesn’t that feel better?

But be careful. Don’t burp! You have to hold on to that ground-up oxygen long enough for your body to digest it, otherwise all your hard work is wasted.

That’s it! I told you eating air was easy. Lunge and chomp, pinch your nose and close your mouth, then swallow that yummy oxygen. Keep it down. Success!

Be warned, though. It’s easy to master the technique, but you still won’t be an air-eater.

You must have faith.

It’s Their Fault You’re Fat!

For some people, eating air is easy. But others struggle. They’ve completed the Twelve Steps to Food Freedom. Their lunge-and-chomp technique is perfect. But their bodies wither and they exhibit signs of starvation.

When I first began my scientific experiments in eating air, I had the same problem. For reasons I could not fathom, the closer my proximity to Fat People, the harder it was for me to eat air. And the fatter the person, the less O-17 and O-18 I was able to digest.

What was going on?

Technique alone, I realized, is not enough. Salvation from food requires that you believe—really believe—that you can eat air. Skepticism of any kind will ruin your digestion, make it impossible for you to consume oxygen, and you will starve to death.47

Was it possible that Fat People were somehow affecting my faith?

I developed a Faith-O-Meter®™ to measure my faith levels. Anything less than 100%—faith to the left of the dial, doubt to the right—indicated my digestion was unsound. I went to the nearest fast-food drive-thru to test my theory.

I was shocked at the results. Fat People were infecting my faith with doubt! Was being fat contagious? What biological or psychological process did this involve?

My research in this urgent field continues. While I remain unclear on the mechanism, the conclusion is undeniable: living in a country full of Fat People makes you fat. Just look at America today. How many thin people do you see?

My first thought was to get as far away from Fat People as possible. To surround myself with thin people and run screaming from the sight of a Fatty waddling down the street.

But there are Fatties everywhere!

Mankind stands on the brink of an evolutionary advance we can’t even begin to comprehend. Can we let these recalcitrant food addicts hold our nation—our entire species—hostage? Their gluttonous ways infect our faith with doubt.

As a result, those of us righteous enough to eat air live in terror of Fat People. Do you understand? These Fat People are agents of terror. Of the Terror of Fat.

It is time we called this blubbery menace by its true name: terrorism. And don’t think I use the t-word lightly. These Fat People are radical extremists who will go to any lengths to get their hands on their next mouthful of food.

Food terrorists are the reason you’re fat. The reason you can’t eat air. Because of their Fatness—their doubt—you and I could starve to death. Until not a single food terrorist is left in this country, you and I will remain enslaved to addictive caloric substances.

It is time for a Final Solution.

At the risk of sounding like some bleeding-heart liberal who wants to mollycoddle terrorists, these Fatties need our help. They are crazed by their addiction to food. They are sick. They need treatment. That’s why I am proposing we build a network of re-education facilities from coast to coast—so we can cure them.

Yes. I’m talking about Fat Camp.

Civil libertarians like Glenn Greenwald, Noam Chomsky and Chris Hedges will whine about how this violates our Constitution. Doubters like them need to spend time in these camps. The only way for us to achieve true freedom—the freedom enshrined in our Constitution—is for us, as a nation, to go cold turkey.

To quote Gandhi, “You must see the change you wish to be in the world.”48

If only Fat Camp alone were enough to solve the Obesity Epidemic and end the threat of food terrorism. But no. Fat People will simply emerge from these sanctuaries of freedom to resume their terrorist activities—like eating French fries, gorging themselves on cheesecake or ordering home-delivered pizza pies.

That is why I’m proposing a Constitutional Amendment to ban food. Then, and only then, can we—as a people—as a nation—as a species—take the Great Leap Forward to the next stage of human evolution.

The importation, cultivation, production, sale and consumption of addictive caloric substances must be made illegal and punishable by incarceration in Fat Camp. The Air Force must be equipped with herbicide-spraying equipment and deployed to sterilize every last square inch of arable land in this great country of ours.

To enforce this Amendment, I propose adding a fourth leg to the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms—a Food Enforcement Division. In this way, the four most dangerous substances in America will share a single enforcement umbrella. These upright soldiers of air will risk their lives in the defining conflict of our age: the War on Fat.

And let there be no mistake. It is a war. The Terror of Fat threatens to destroy our great nation and plunge the human race into a new dark age. Our world stands in crisis.

But America is a Land of Freedom. We will do whatever it takes to bring freedom to every corner of the globe. Every citizen of America—of the world—has the God-given right to be free. Free from slavery to food. We must help them be free, whether they want freedom or not.

Our current political system, however, is stuck in gridlock. The agro-business special interests own Congress. They want to keep us enslaved and in ignorance of the truth. I looked around at my fellow Americans and I realized that we are not free. We are slaves. Fat, waddling, disgusting blimps, addicted to every passing pleasure. And when I saw this, I cried out in my anguish, “Let My People Go!”

That is why I’m running for President as a write-in candidate. A tidal wave of Progress is coming. Only an independent leader like myself can make the changes this country needs to ride that wave into the future.

Once elected, I will declare a Global War on Fat. It isn’t enough for just our country to eat air. The entire world must embrace our Gospel of Oxygen. Because how can we eat air if the rest of the world doesn’t too? Their doubt will waft across the oceans, across our land borders with Mexico and Canada, and make atmospheric consumption for us—God’s Chosen People—impossible.49

Yes, God Himself has chosen this country to lead the human race out of bondage to a higher plane of human evolution. It is our destiny to rule the world as all-powerful, all-knowing, immortal spirit creatures, eating only air.

Why did God choose America? Why not Indonesia, or Sudan, or Ukraine? Because we are the most righteous people on Earth. More than any other nation, we are devoted to freedom. And God wants us all to be free. Free from addiction to food.

Other countries may not be receptive at first to these innovative new ideas. The Old World has been stuck in their food-eating ways for thousands of years. Once we have successfully rid our country of the Terror of Fat, it will be time to spread our Message of Hope and Air and Freedom and Equal Opportunity around the world, so that all of mankind may enjoy the blessings that the air-only diet brings.

Obesity is a greater threat to our nation’s freedom than nuclear war, Islamic terrorism and cyber warfare combined. Every effort must be made to end the Menace of Fat. Because if even a single food addict is left alive on the planet, the rest of us air-eaters could starve to death.50

If you are one of those unfortunate shuffling blimps who walk our streets—assuming you are even able to walk—I have a message for you:

It’s not your fault.

I feel sorry for you. Do not be alarmed at the prospect of Fat Camp. Food terrorists like you need to be cured. Purified. Re-educated. We will teach you the One True Way—the American Way—and then you too will join us on a higher plane of human existence, eating air with the angels.

Because we will become angels ourselves.

Yes, my friends. There is Hope. Hope for a Food-Free World. A world where it’s safe for our children to play in the streets, unmolested by playground Ding-Dong dealers and Twinkie junkies desperate for their next fix. Together we can throw the bums out of Washington, end the corrupt influence of the agro-business special interests and bring true freedom back to America.

Remember this November: Vote For Jones!

Freedom from Food Means Slavery to Air: Is Freedom from Air Even Possible?

Freedom.

That’s what this is all about. Freedom from our body’s incessant demands for calories. From slavery to these fleshy husks we are doomed to inhabit. Freedom from this corrupt world, too—and a chance for our souls to take flight and soar to the heavens on the air-eating wings God gave us.

Our next step forward in evolution is to unite our species under the air-eating banner. We must not rest until not a single human being remains addicted to food, and terrorism has been wiped out.

And then?

Freedom from food is a Great Leap Forward. But this freedom comes at a price: slavery to air. Because without oxygen, we would starve to death.

Becoming angels is merely a stepping-stone to our ultimate destiny as a species: to free ourselves from air and become God.

To those who say this impossible, that we can’t become God, I say: Yes We Can!

Let me remind you that this is America. There is nothing our great nation cannot do. We’re not stuck in the reality-based community. That’s not the way the world works anymore. We’re Americans, and we create our own reality.51

Once we become God, what will we consume then? Nothing, if we don’t wish it. God requires no sustenance. But imagine the possibilities. We could eat background radiation—alpha particles, X-rays, even radio signals. Just think—we’ll be able to eat the Beatles for lunch! “Love Me Do” followed by a rousing chorus of Bruce Springsteen belting out “God Bless America” for dessert!

But this is a distant goal. Much work remains to be done before we can evict God from His Throne and chow down on Top 40 hits.

The revolution must come first. Join me, and together we can bring freedom to every corner of the globe.

Go the Power of Air!

Afterword to the 33rd Printing

These are the times that try men’s souls.

Again and again success seems within our grasp, only to flit just ahead of us, like a Twinkie on a string (a cruel trick my childhood school friends used to play on me).

As you know, the public response to my research has been electric. You saw, finally saw, the agro-business conspiracy for what it was: a grave threat of corporate oligarchy overwhelming our democratic institutions.

You elected me President by a landslide. With your continued support, I have been building the American Dream, for ourselves and our children, the better world I promised you on the campaign trail. You anointed me “the Prophet” by popular acclaim, and I have reluctantly accepted this mantle, knowing that I am not worthy to be your savior. I now occupy the redesigned and renamed Trapezoidal Office in the Thin House. My Amendment has eliminated the scourge of food from the land. Fat Camps across the country re-educate food terrorists to achieve their full air-eating potential.

But dark clouds loom on the horizon. The French Food Mafia, run by Fatso, the Godfather of Food, controls a calorie-distribution ring right here in D.C. Food continues to be sold and openly consumed in this country. Secessionists in Denver with their so-called Gluttony Congress have declared independence, while cannibals in California roam the streets, killing and eating the old and infirm.

The worst thing, however, is the betrayal of my ghostwriter, J.M. Porup.

This Porup, this Judas, was one of my original followers. I am a scientist and visionary, not some hack. So I employed him to fix my spelling mistakes and correct my occasional slips in grammar. I dictated this work to Porup at a time when the world had not yet accepted my findings. Porup came highly recommended. He used to write travel guidebooks for Lonely Planet. What’s more, he believes in eating air—or said he did. I was pleased with his assistance in the composition of this book. That we are now in the 33rd printing of Food-Free at Last is a testament not only to my vision, but also to his literary prowess.

But now Porup has stabbed me in the back, and I want the whole world to know of his betrayal.

To think I harbored a viper at my breast! He has scorned me, abused me in public. He even managed to emigrate illegally to Cuba—despite our grounding all commercial aircraft to stop food terrorism, and the Coast Guard’s blockade of that freedom-hating regime.

Worst of all, though, is this new book he has written—a highly offensive satire called The United States of Air. In it he distorts not only myself but everything this country stands for, like liberty, justice, and equal opportunity to eat air.

For shame, sir, I say. You are a food terrorist, an illegal emigrant, and a traitor to this country! I hope you rot in cheesecake and barbecue hell.

Avoid his book at all costs! It contains insolent thoughts that mock your Prophet, the air-eating way and this great nation of ours. His doubt will infect you and make it impossible for you to eat air! Because of him, millions of people could starve to death!

This traitor is clearly in the pay of the agro-business special interests, who want to keep you in chains, enslaved to your dinner plate, dancing to your stomach’s tune! Put wax in your ears! Listen not to his evil siren song! The Fate of the Food-Free World hangs in the balance! His monstrous book could bring about nuclear armageddon!

The title, once more, is The United States of Air, by J.M. Porup, available where all bad books are sold. Avoid it at your peril.

Go the Power of Air!

The Prophet Jones

Commander-and-Air-Eater-in-Chief

The Thin House

This Thirty-Third Day of February, 2013

About the Authors

The Prophet Jones

Formerly known as Dr. Robert Jones, MD, PhD, DDS, ODD, the Prophet Jones is Commander-and-Air-Eater-in-Chief of the US of A. He’s also the Leader of the Food-Free World. He single-handedly saved our country from slavery to addictive caloric substances, and dealt a blow against the agro-business special interests from which they will not soon recover. Winner of the Nobel Prizes for Medicine, Peace and Chemistry, all in the same year—a trifecta—he has dedicated his life to bringing food freedom to foreigners in every corner of the globe.

J.M. Porup

We’re contractually obligated to include this traitor’s biography. Luckily the contract didn’t specify the exact wording. So neener, neener, neener, Mr. Porup. He helped the Prophet write this book, before committing treason and fleeing to Cuba. Can you imagine? An illegal emigrant! We urge you to stay as far away from this man and his work as possible. For instance, his offensive new satire, The United States of Air, mocks our beliefs and our great nation, and should be avoided at all costs. We've even included an excerpt of the book (scroll down past the footnotes) so you can judge for yourself—Mr. Porup has betrayed the Prophet, the US of A and our air-eating ideals. We hope he dies of obesity!

Sign up for the author’s New Releases mailing list and get a free copy of his political satire, “The United States of Air.”

Click here to get started: www.JMPorup.com

Also by J.M. Porup

The United States of Air: a Satire

The Second Bat Guano War

Death on Taurus

Dreams Must Die

by J.M. Porup with Shazam al-War bin al-Gorithm

A Terrorist Converts: How I Learned to Stop Hating America

A Terrorist Converts: How I Learned to Love the NSA

A Terrorist Converts: Why I’m Voting for Hillary Clinton

References

1 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “The Nutritional Composition of Air,” June 2006, pp. 347-349.

2 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “The Superiority of Oxygen Compared to Other Edible Gases,” September 2007, pp. 665-666.

3 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Oxygen Isotopes and Human Digestion,” October 2008, pp. 34-57.

4 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Mankind’s Evolutionary Trajectory,” July 2009, pp. 1-3.

5 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Hereditary Addiction to Plant- and Animal-Based Calories,” September 2001, pp. 45-79.

6 World Health Organization, “Drug Addiction: What Is It? And How Can We Use It to Put More Black People in Jail?,” July 1957.

7 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Food Addiction and Nuclear Weapons: the Ticking H-Bomb,” February 2010, pp. 45-46.

8 Johnson & Johnson, The Nebraska Journal of Evolutionary Studies, “Poking Holes in Darwin’s Theory of Natural Selection,” March 2009, pp. 45-340.

9 Dicksmith, Vergala and Cocksun, The New England Journal of Darwin Lovers, “Evolutionary Adaptation: a Band-Aid for the Greatest Theory Known to Man,” June 1999, pp. 67-69.

10 Wakefield, Dickens and Shakespee, Western Massachusetts Diary of Human Evolution, “Evolutionary Adaptation: Three Examples,” February 2000, pp.190-199.

11 Cabra, Vaca y Oveja, La Jornada de Dulce de Leche, Barcelona, “Excreciones Mammalarios de Animales: Realemente Se Necessita?,” December 1987, pp. 89-97.

12 Nicholson et al., Journal of Himalayan Mountaineering Medicine, Kathmandu, “Mouth-breathers of the Himalayas,” December 1993, pp. 56-58.

13 Negro, Blanco y Amarillo, Jornada de Piel, Madrid, “Explicacion Segun Darwin de los Colores de Seres Humanos,” March 2003, pp. 12-19.

14 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “The Pattern in the Chaos,” March 2007, pp. 999-1007.

15 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “A New Hypothesis,” April 2007, pp. 7009-7010.

16 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Success!,” October 2011, pp. 8990-9078.

17 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “The True Addictiveness of Junk Food,” January 2000, pp. 6-90.

18 Boucher, Le Journal de Red Meat, Paris, “Le Red Meat Kills,” November 1997, pp. 7-8.

19 Vanishiwaya and Umpashumpinanikaminkashush, The New England Journal of Medicine, “Consumption of Red Meat and Arteriosclerosis,” April 2004, pp. 190-198.

20 Ahh Chew, Bwesh Yoo, and Sank Yoo, The Beijing Journal of Oncology, “Red Meat and Cancer,” August 1995, pp. 6-66.

21 Smith, Nasty Ailments Vegetarians Don’t Get, “Yet Another One,” May 2005, pp. 12-13.

22 Rhubarb and Vanille, Saskatchewan Diary of Podiatry, “Red Meat and Fallen Arches,” May 2007, pp. 98-99.

23 Eye, Hook & Laderr, The Ophthalmologist’s Companion, “Suspected Causes of Glaucoma,” June 2008, pp.1-2.

24 Celer and Carrt, Vegetarian & Vegan Studies of Southwestern Utah, “Diet and Lifespan: a Correlation,” July 1990, pp. 45-49.

25 Smart and Smart, The Nutritionist’s Handbook, Chapter Four, “Why Red Meat Is Good For You,” June 1951, pp. 78.

26 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Debunking the Red Meat Myth,” June 2003, pp. 45-1003.

27 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Dairy Products: an Undertaker’s Delight,” July 2003, pp. 56-5009.

28 Smart & Smart, The Nutritionist’s Handbook, Chapter Three, “Why Dairy Is Good For You,” June 1951, pp. 66-90.

29 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Calcium Content of Oxygen,” June 2007, pp. 89-9990.

30 Jason, Jason & Jason, Montana Journal of Heart Health, “Link Between Dairy Fat and Ill Health,” August 1994, pp. 56-57.

31 Donaldson, Central Oregon University Butter Research, “Yet More Proof that Butter Kills,” October 1993, pp. 1-10.

32 Dydinski & Krystoff, University of Melbourne Fat Investigations, “Dairy Fat and Early Death,” July 1997, pp. 34-39.

33 Boozer & Drunkh, Sock Puppet Journal of Liquor Investigation, “Whiskey Is Good for You!,” July 1993, pp. 1-909.

34 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “A Single Drop Can Kill,” April 2004, pp. 3-90.

35 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Booze: a Litany of Suffering,” May 2004, pp. 5-879.

36 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “White Flour: Russian Roulette,” June 2006, pp. 7-98.

37 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Cholesterol and Death: a Survey of Existing Research,” July 2010, pp. 5-5001.

38 Mann & Pez, Fisherman’s Almanac of West-Central Australia, “Yarr, We Be Having Weird Heavy Metals in Dee Feeshees, Yarr,” April 2003, pp. 40-49.

39 Pintura, Pinta & Canvasse, Salmon Marketer’s Guide to Cheating Consumers, “Analysis of Pink Food Dyes,” June 1998, pp. 45-90.

40 Sweet & Bittre, Ssh! Secrets the American People Must Not Be Allowed to Know, “Sugar: It Shortens Life Span, but Still Profitable,” September 2004, pp. 29-97.

41 American Apple Growers Association, Marketing Handbook, “An Apple a Day Keeps the Doctor In Business,” October 1901, pp. 1-100.

42 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Fat and Early Death,” March 2007, pp. 12-209.

43 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Debunking the Bean Myth,” November 2008, pp. 37-908.

44 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “The Disgusting Organ You Carry Inside You,” April 2008, pp. 908-12003.

45 Franklin, Washington & Adams, Secret Addendum to the Declaration of Independence, “Can You Feel It? The Freedom Bursting from Our Breasts? It’s Like That Movie Alien that Won’t Be Made for Another Two Hundred Years!,” July 1776, pp. 3-309.

46 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Food for the Spirit,” October 2012, pp. 73-807.

47 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Doubt: Worse than Red Meat,” September 2011, pp. 9001-12877.

48 Jacobson, The Unauthorized Biography of “Mahatma” Gandhi: the True Story, “Chapter Six: What Gandhi Really Meant,” June 1958, pp. 343-347.

49 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “Doubt: Yes, It Wafts,” May 2009, pp. 45-49.

50 Jones et al., The American Journal of Atmospheric Consumption, “The Greatest Threat Humanity Has Ever Faced,” January 2010, pp. 90-203.

51 Suskind, The New York Times Magazine, “Faith, Certainty and the Presidency of George W. Bush,” October 2004.

Excerpt from The United States of Air

I wasn’t always this fat. I used to be a tub of lard. In fact, lard was my favorite food. I’d use an ice cream scoop to make lard sundaes, smothered in hot bacon drippings, crunchy chunks of pork rind, with a pickle on top. To cut the grease a bit, you know. Even now, just thinking about it makes my mouth water.

Sometimes I’d go on a diet. I’d buy half a dozen pallets of the world’s best diet food: Twinkies. The diet was simple: all the Twinkies I wanted. But only Twinkies. Nothing else. After a week of this grueling diet, I’d put myself up on the scale. Since it was impossible to see my feet at that time, much less read the scale, I had to guess my weight. It usually seemed like I’d lost a few pounds, so I’d celebrate with a hot lard sundae, extra pork rind. Man, that crunch used to drive me wild.

This was before the Prophet came to power. I was working as a D.C. cop, and when I wasn’t patiently explaining to criminals their constitutional rights, or reminding them that the American justice system was the fairest in the world, I was eating. On a typical shift, my partner Harry Green and I would each consume three dozen doughnuts, two large pizzas, seven or eight Big Macs, depending on our appetites, and, for dessert, hidden in the trunk of our cruiser against all regulations, our secret ice box of chilled butter and lard. I confess I never could understand his preference for butter. We’d cut off thick wedges, let them melt on our tongues. For a time, it seemed like heaven.

Looking back, I know that it was hell.

I will never forget the first time I heard the Prophet speak. I had finished my shift and grabbed a bucket of fried chicken on the way home. A light snack before bed. Crashed out on the sofa, the bucket between my gargantuan thighs. Flicked on the news. And there he was. Running for President.

“Food is a drug!” he thundered at an arena full of blubber. People just like me. “You don’t need to eat! That’s a myth! All you need is air!”

Then he proceeded to do something extraordinary. He showed us his teeth, opened his mouth wide and chomped down on something invisible. He chewed, jaws working up and down, then swallowed loudly and patted his stomach with a satisfied grin.

“If I can do it,” he shouted, to cheers from the crowd, “you can do it too!”

He railed against the agro-business special interests that had brainwashed us into thinking that food was harmless, had corrupted our youth with their addictive caloric substances, and filled our hospitals with patients suffering from heart disease, diabetes and cancer.

Global warming. Crowded jails. Nuclear weapons. Drivers who forget to signal. All our social ills are caused by one thing only: the stuff we put in our mouths that we don’t need. By food. By calories. And by eliminating the source of all these evils, and enforcing a zero-calorie air-only diet, we turn our country into a city on a hill, a light in the darkness, a beacon that other nations may follow on their own journeys down the Superhighway of Purity and Air.

“There is hope!” the Prophet declared to a sea of worshipful faces, their double and triple chins quivering with joy under the stadium lights. “Hope for a Food-Free World! Ask yourself: Whose fault is it that you’re fat?” And his face went grim and the crowd fell silent. “It’s their fault!” he roared. “Them! The fat people!” He pounded the podium with his fist. “How can you be thin if you’re surrounded by fat?”

As if on cue, the crowd began to chant, “Down with fat! Down with fat! Down with fat!”

“Don’t blame yourself!” he shouted, to cries of swooning adulation. “You must see the change you wish to be in the world!”

I threw my half-eaten chicken wing back into the bucket, and kicked it across the room. “See the change you wish to be.” My God, he was right! Those evil fatties would pay. The Prophet continued to speak, but I don’t remember his exact words anymore, just the realization that this was my last chance.

Because, you see, I didn’t eat because I wanted to. I never wanted to. I didn’t even enjoy it. I ate because I had to. If my jaws weren’t moving, I wasn’t happy. If one of my hands didn’t hold the next mouthful in readiness, primed for the moment my mouth became vacant, I’d get panic attacks. I’d have to stop whatever I was doing and find something, anything to eat—a dozen hot dogs cold out of the package, ten-pound bags of year-old liquorice, boxes of melted chocolate abandoned in a supermarket dumpster—it didn’t matter. Being a D.C. cop is stressful, especially when you let criminals go if they promise not to do it again and you wind up arresting them the very next day for the exact same crime. This happened to me all the time, and it was so disappointing. All I wanted to do was plunge both hands full of food into my mouth at once. Eating calmed me down. Nothing else worked.

Of course you know the election results. It’s a matter of history. The Prophet campaigned on the slogan “Let’s Put America On A Diet!”—and won. By a landslide. Within six months the Amendment passed by unanimous consent of all fifty states, except for Vermont. A real disgrace, that. Apparently some quack doctor, a member of that state’s General Assembly, probably high on barley or wheat or whatever the food users pop up there, abstained from the vote in protest, making the absurd claim that consuming food is necessary to life. You might as well say that drinking a bottle of gin every day is necessary to life. Or snorting cocaine. Shooting up heroin. I mean, come on, you know? Anyway, he got his due. A group of Vermont’s leading citizens, enraged at this blot on their state’s reputation, burned the man’s house down, raped his wife and shot his dog. I’m sorry? It’s a traditional American way of showing disapproval. Don’t worry, though. The dog survived.

I see you shaking your head. Now, I know it’s hard for some of you ferrners out there to understand the innovative ideas coming out of the New World. Backward Old World types like yourself—no offense—well, you’ve been addicted to food for thousands of years. In America, or “Air,” as I should say, the name got changed by the Amendment, we’ve got the chance to do things differently. To do things right. Make a better life for ourselves and our children.

The Prophet rode a mandate into office, and he wasted no time in spending his political capital. In making that better life come true for all Airitarians. He declared a Global War on Fat.

As soon as he moved into the Thin House, he ordered all supermarkets bulldozed, all restaurants demolished, all farmers forbidden to cultivate under penalty of death. By the time the Amendment passed, the Prophet’s crop-dusting program was well under way. The entire Air Force, stealth bomber and all, was equipped with aerial spraying equipment and billions of tons of the most potent herbicide available. Twelve months ago today he celebrated the sterilization of the last square inch of arable land in the country: a tiny crack in a sidewalk in Baltimore, where grass had sprouted between the concrete slabs. And don’t think he kept anything aside for himself, either. The Prophet has always led by example. He personally put on a space suit and sprayed the Thin House lawn, making sure that every last flower in the Rose Garden was dead.

I told you, I’m not going to take any questions until the—what? Excuse me? People starving in Africa… Why don’t we send our food to Africa? If we don’t want it, they’ll eat it. You know, it’s questions like this that piss me off. I’m sorry to use the p-word like that, but it makes me so mad. What’s happening in Africa is a tragedy, but it’s not our fault. We sent them missionaries. To show them a new way of life. Air-eating is sustainable regardless of drought. It doesn’t matter if it rains or not.

And what did they do? What did those ungrateful Africans do? Strapped down our young men and women and force-fed them cornmeal mixed with soybean oil and sugar. You understand? They tortured our missionaries. So forgive me when I say, if people are starving in Africa, it’s their own goddamn fault. There, I used the g-d-word, see what you made me do.

No, I don’t want any water. I am calm.

Listen, I’ll tell you what is a problem that worries me. Illegal emigration. These people are slowly destroying our country. It’s like they want to be slaves to their digestive systems. I feel sorry for them. This is why we’ve sealed our borders. Why sentries patrol the no-man’s-land with Mexico, with orders to shoot to kill anyone trying to escape over that wall or wade the Rio Grande. These people must not be allowed to reach the taco and burrito stands that line the Mexican side of the river.

This may seem extreme to some of you, but I assure you it’s a question of freedom. Every citizen of the US of Air is born with the inalienable right to be free. Free from addiction to food. But some people, hardened food terrists, most of them, reject freedom. They refuse to be free. I tell you now, the Prophet will not rest until everyone is free, no matter what the cost in blood or treasure.

Take our decision to ground all civilian air traffic. The economic impact was huge, but it was necessary to combat food terrism. Shortly after the Prophet took office, food terrists hijacked hundreds of 747s and forced the pilots to fly to Cuba at the business end of a corn dog. Dangerous thing, a corn dog, especially to a pilot suffering food withdrawal.

Of course, we demanded these terrists be extradited, to be tried for their crimes in Food Court. But the freedom-hating regime of that island nation refused.

In fact, not a month went by before Cuba rebranded itself the “Fat Capital of the World.” Trying to lure our tender young minds away from the Path of Righteousness and Air to the soul-destroying corruption of their beachside “restaurants.” Food labs is what they are. And they invite thousands of French chefs to come and practice their disgusting and illegal craft in these food labs. “Cooking,” I believe the dealers call it. You know, when they mix different caloric substances together in precise measurements in a metal container, and then hold the container over a high heat. Kind of like a meth lab, except none of the ingredients are available over the counter.

It gets worse. It’s not enough that Cuba supports these manufacturers of suffering and addiction. Our intelligence sources indicate the presence of joint Cuban-French training camps—don’t bother to deny it, we’ve got satellite photos, we’ve even got the recipes—where Cuban guerrillas train French chefs with at least three Michelin stars to infiltrate our borders, prepare addictive caloric substances to tempt senior government officials, and then blackmail them.

Cuba is, as it has always been, one of our greatest enemies.

And you know, if Cuba wasn’t such a threat to our freedom, the Flotilla would never have happened. That’s what you vultures in the media called it, right? Cuba sets itself up as a beacon of food for the so-called hungry, and soon thousands of our citizens are risking their lives to paddle across the Florida Straits, many on improvised rafts made out of driftwood and lashed together with old shoelaces. The Coast Guard turned back boat after boat, raft after raft, until the yachties organized the Flotilla. Six months ago, it was. You remember. Twenty thousand boats left Miami in one great pack, yachts and sailboats and powerboats, and thousands and thousands of homemade rafts. As per the Prophet’s “wet foot, dead foot” policy, the Coast Guard opened fire as soon as they entered international waters, but ran out of bullets. Luckily there was an aircraft carrier nearby, and the Coast Guard was able to call in air support. Fighters strafed the Flotilla until only debris and dismembered body parts were left.

We got a lot of bad press about this, at least in your international papers. But you’ve got to remember something. These people were dangerous food terrists who would do anything for their next hit. Like the Johnson brothers. Exactly. Sure, I know what happened to them. The only two survivors of the Flotilla, and what do they do? Go on Cuban television and tell everyone how happy they are to have a full stomach for a change. The world watching, and they stick out their tongues at us. Couple of thumb-sucking six-year-old brats. The CIA took them out. Boom-boom. Double tap. One in the chest, one in the head. Food terrists like that are a threat to every freedom-loving nation in the world.

Even tough love has its limits, you know? We tried to help them. We wanted them to be free. But they refused our help. It was out of compassion that we put them down. Put them out of their misery. It is better to be dead than a slave.

Live Free or Die. That’s the US of A’s motto. The Prophet’s mantra, too. When he meditates, he takes a deep breath, exhales slowly and chants, Livefreeordiiiieeee. Livefreeordiiiieeee. Livefreeordiiiieeee. So relaxing. You should try it sometime.

That’s a stupid question. How do I sleep at night? Same as you do. I turn off the lights, get into bed and dream about George Washington and Benjamin Franklin. What would the Founding Fathers say to see us now, how much progress we’ve made since their day, taking not just our country but the entire human race to a new, higher plane of existence?

And it’s sad, really. What happened to the Johnson brothers, and to others like them. Because it could all have been avoided, if they had been willing to give Fat Camp a chance. I remember when I went to Fat Camp. It was a wonderful experience.

The Prophet declared a special amnesty for law enforcement officials. Volunteer and you got to keep your job. It’s true some officers decided to stockpile weapons and cases of their favorite drug, and head for the hills. The Air Force has since bombed those mountain hideouts back into the Stone Age.

Fat Camp changed my life, as it changed the lives of so many of my fellow Airitarians. The military trainers marched us through the fields on long excursions, our mouths wide open, sucking down God’s great air. If you were unlucky you might swallow a fly or a mosquito. That puts your progress back for weeks, let me tell you. Addiction means addiction. A heroin addict can’t shoot up every now and again. It’s all or nothing. You can’t perfect your air-eating technique until you’ve been food-free for at least a month, and sometimes not even then.

Did you know that air comes in thirty-one flavors? You can have a different one every night of the week—for four weeks! Like vanilla, cilantro and asparagus. My favorite was always Mexican night. They’d let off a blast of pepper spray over the camp, and we’d run around with our eyes closed, taking great gulps of that wonderful taco taste. Which just goes to prove to you critics out there that we’re not Puritans. We aren’t anti-pleasure. Only anti-food.

A demonstration? Sure. Of course. You won’t get any results the first time just by copying what I do. But I’ll humor you. I can see the studio audience is curious, as no doubt are your viewers. It’s only fair for them to see what they are missing out on, don’t you think?

Here. Let me stand. You know, I’ve never eaten air in front of such a large audience before. Oops. The mike. Sure. Got it. Now, stand up. All of you. Stand up with me. That’s it. Now move around a little. Loosen up. Shake those hands. Good. Nice and loose. Now make sure there’s plenty of fresh air circulating near your head. Near your mouth. For instance, you should avoid eating air in basements, and in other poorly ventilated spaces. When you’re ready, open your mouth. Wide, wide, wide, as far as it goes—yes, that’s it—now lunge forward and chomp. Good. This is key. Lunge and chomp. No, no, no! You forgot to seal your lips. Tell him. Translate this. Classic beginner’s mistake. The air leaks out through your lips or your nose before you can swallow it, digest it. You’ve got to pinch your nose shut, keep your lips tightly sealed while you munch on your very first atmospheric snack. Good one!

Above and beyond technique, there is one final ingredient crucial to eating air. I’ve mentioned it already. That is faith. You must believe. Anyone can master the technique, given time. But without faith, your body cannot digest air. You have to have faith in yourself. Doubt of any kind, even the tiniest niggle in the back of your mind, destroys all your hard work and puts you back to square one.

For those of you interested in attending Fat Camp yourself, and I’m sure many of you are, the embassy here in Paris has constructed a series of demonstration Fat Camps throughout the French countryside. We’ve already begun to enroll a small number of volunteers. Naturally we’d like to see France build more Fat Camps, enough for the entire population, to help bring freedom to the enslaved French people. And I have to say, between you and me? French air is the most flavorsome I have ever tasted.

To go back a bit. When I graduated from Fat Camp, top of my class, a federal recruiter was waiting for me. Lieutenant Brownnose Lickit—I remember the chocolate-colored stain on his chin no amount of rubbing could ever seem to remove. He wore a trench coat with a tape measure wrapped tight around his narrow waist—the uniform of the newly reorganized ATFF that was to strike fear into the hearts of food terrists everywhere. He looked me up and down, not without a little disgust. I had lost two hundred pounds in thirty days, but I still had at least three hundred more to go. Finally he asked me if I was serious in my desire to enlist in the War on Fat.

Absolutely, I told him. There was nothing I wanted more. Nothing I wouldn’t do to achieve victory in that fight.

It was then he invited me to join the Food Enforcement Division’s training program. He slid a tape measure across the table with a smile.

“Welcome to the front lines of the defining conflict of our age.”

The tape measure didn’t fit, of course. It was another four months before I got my waistline down to twenty-five inches, the maximum allowed by the Bureau.

Our training was rigorous. They taught us a smorgasbord of techniques to subdue the rampaging food terrist. We learned Kung Yum Chop, an Eastern martial art that favored chopsticks as the weapon of choice. Stunt drivers demonstrated cornering at low speeds in our government-issued Smart Cars. (As part of his campaign promise to slim down government, the Prophet had sold the administration’s fleet of black SUVs and replaced them with Smart Cars.)

But most of our training was dedicated to the Laxafier, the Bureau’s standard-issue sidearm. The Prophet had replaced all service weapons with these six-round laxative revolvers. Each dart contained enough tranquilizer to drop a fattie charging an all-you-can-eat buffet, and enough laxative to empty his bowels immediately.

The day I became an ATFF agent and put on that tape measure for the first time was the proudest day of my life. The anthem playing, the flag fluttering and snapping in the breeze, the pepper spray canister the organizers let off over our heads—I was so happy I couldn’t stop crying. We swore the oath of office together, vowing solemnly to protect and defend the Amendment against all enemies, both ferrn and domestic. Together we lunged and chomped for the camera, snacking on that exotic Mexican air, and finally tied our tape measures around our waists, from which dangled our bright new badges of office.

“What’s our motto?” our captain shouted.

“Liberty or Death!” we roared back.

A tingle went up my spine as I shouted with the rest of them. We were on the cutting edge of human evolution. And I was part of that. Part of something greater than myself. Helping to make the world a better place.

No, I’m fine. Really. Just something in my eyes, is all.

It would have been a perfect day, except for my wife, Chantal. She showed up with Nathan, our ten-year-old son, in tow, a gallon of fudge ripple ice cream under her arm. To this day I don’t know where she got it. I couldn’t believe what she did next. She opened the carton in front of everyone—and put a spoonful in her mouth!

Here we were, a couple hundred freshly minted ATFF agents, recruited to stamp out precisely this kind of food abuse, and here she was, my wife, chowing down in front of my new colleagues. I just stood there, frozen, I was so embarrassed. But when she went to give a spoonful to our child, I started to run. It took me five minutes to cover the fifty feet to where she sat, the withered muscles in my arms and legs straining to get me there in time. I took a diving leap and knocked the spoon from her hand just as it touched my son’s lips.

After that incident, I put my foot down. No food means no food. Naturally, I arrested her too. Not out of public shame, either. It was the right thing to do, and I’d do it again, even if my entire graduating class wasn’t there watching me. My wife was a food addict, and she needed treatment. The Food Court judge was lenient and gave her thirty days in Fat Camp, even though I begged him to give her more. And I put junior through a kiddie Fat Camp at my own expense. I wanted to make sure his mother’s influence hadn’t corrupted his soul.

When they got back a month later, things were better in our house. She apologized, and I felt sure I had cured her of her addiction. There’s a lesson here. Hard-core food terrists look and talk and act just like you and me. They could be a friend, a relative, even your spouse. But deep down, in the blackness of their diseased souls, these poor creatures—like my wife—hunger for their drug of choice, and nothing you say or do can help them see the truth.

Other than that, it was a good time at the ATFF. I brought my partner Harry Green with me. When I got promoted, I made sure he got promoted too. Loyalty counts for something in this world, I figure. Harry was a friend. Together we led the way in busting illegal grow-ops in the D.C. area—from huge warehouses full of hydroponic vats growing beans and corn, wheat and rye, down to the grungy college student with a sun lamp and a couple of tomato plants in his closet. It didn’t matter. We busted them all.

It was around this time we got the first inkling of a growing menace in our society. Cross-border smuggling soared, flooding our streets with that vilest of drugs, the crack cocaine of food: polished white rice. How did they get it into the country? There were border checks, air-eating sniffer dogs at every port of entry, customs officials whose sole job was to look for and confiscate food. On top of it all, the sniffer dogs died of some unknown wasting disease. For a long time we weren’t quite sure what had happened. Then we realized: the dogs had been poisoned.

We detected a master hand at work. Behind all the grow-ops, the smuggling, even the network of Supper Clubs we’d been hearing about, stood one man: Fatso, the Godfather of Food. As head of the French Food Mafia, la chôse notre, Fatso controlled 120% of the black market. My partner and I worked feverishly to build a case against him, but time and time again that greasy mafioso slipped through our fingers.

What’s that? Supper Clubs are a network of exclusive food labs run by the mafia. Rich connoisseurs get high by candlelight on course after course of elaborately prepared illicit confection. I have to say, I don’t get it. Why do addicts pay so much money for this stuff? A calorie is a calorie, and in my book, they’re all bad. What’s more, these bizarre assemblies require formal dress—black tie for men, evening gowns for the women. Can someone please explain to me why wealthy food terrists wear tuxedos while consuming addictive caloric substances? Is powdered cleavage necessary for the consumption of these mind-warping and soul-destroying meals? Not to mention the fifteen-piece orchestra. Do heroin addicts insist on chamber music or light jazz in the dark garbage-lined alleys where they shoot up?

You don’t have an answer for that, do you? I didn’t think so.

How do I know all this? Because I busted a Supper Club once. Got a tipoff from a snitch. Sent a hundred food terrists to Fat Camp, including half a dozen Congressmen. Boy, that was rough. Finding out that not all our honorable gentlemen on Capitol Hill are pure air-eaters rattled my faith in our political system. Thankfully, I soon realized it was an isolated incident, and my enthusiasm for the American way of life—I mean, the Airitarian way of life—soon returned to its full measure.

So we barged into this Supper Club, Laxafiers drawn, my TWAT team bringing up the rear. (That’s Thin Weapons And Tactics, in case you were curious.) Rumor was Fatso himself would be present. The food terrists gasped when they saw us. The women shrieked. They tried to escape, and would have outrun us, too, what with the performance-enhancing calories they consume. We’d anticipated this, however, and blockaded the exits with ATFF fatty wagons.

I remember staring around that ballroom in shock. Lobsters stacked like firewood on every table, the floor littered with their crunchy husks. Buffet tables sagged under the weight of food. Calories on every plate but one.

Fatso’s.

He reclined in a corner, like some malevolent, clean-shaven maître d’ in evening attire. Over his head hung a large tapestry of the Battle of Hunger Hill, one of the fiercest battles of the Civil War. Not a shot had been fired. Union forces had starved to death a Confederate garrison that refused to surrender. If only the rebels had known then what we know now about eating air.

In front of the Godfather of Food sat an empty plate. Not even a trace of a calorie. I bagged his plate and silverware as evidence. The lab found nothing. Next to the plate was a glass of water, untouched. An amused smile flickered across the man’s lips.

“Zo yoo air Agent Froleek, monsieur,” he said, his accent strong, like a smelly contraband Roquefort blue cheese.

He came to this country—and by “this country” I mean the US of Air, not France, even though I’m currently in France—fifteen years ago and still couldn’t speak English good. He had introduced le hamburger à la Nancy Reagan on the menu of his five-star restaurant here in Paris, only to have a mob of angry chefs attempt to lynch him. The State Department granted him asylum and—worse for us—citizenship. We couldn’t even deport the food trafficker.

His grin widened. “I haf ben lookeeng fore-ward to meeteeng yoo, non? Zay say yoo air zee best agent zee ATFF haz.”

“Tell it to the judge,” I said, and pulled out my handcuffs.

All around us my TWAT team fired laxative darts at stampeding fat people. Where the food terrists fell, an unusual perfume arose. Their poo-poo and pee-pee seeped through their evening clothes and mingled with the still-warm lobster casings. But Fatso seemed uninterested in the scents of justice. In a gesture of unconcern, he interlaced his fingers across his belly. Or tried to. They didn’t quite reach.

“Yoo air not a seek-air aft-air zee playzh-air, mon ami,” he said, his grin still natural and easy. “Zat I admi-air. Yoo air not like zeez uzz-airs.” He waved a hand at the diners in their finery, piled one upon the other like beached whales at a Japanese barbecue. “I seenk not, non?”

“Save your breath,” I said, and snapped the handcuffs in his face. “Now get up.”

He rose slowly to his feet and held out his wrists. “Wat eez eet yoo dezi-air most een zees world, Agent Froleek?” he asked. “Eet eez not zee playzh-air. Eez eet, peut-être, pow-air? To make zees world a bett-air place?”

“My desire,” I said, “is to put you in Fat Camp.” I struggled to loop the cuffs around his wrists.

Fatso’s eyes twinkled with mocking amusement. The handcuffs would not click shut. “Now zat yoo haf cot mee,” he asked, “wat weel yoo doo?”

I slammed the cuffs back onto my belt. “I, along with three hundred million other Americans—I mean Airitarians—will celebrate your demise.” I drew my weapon. “Now don’t move.”

He looked at me thoughtfully, unmindful of the chaos around us. “Yoo seenk eet weel make a difference?” he asked. “Arresteeng mee, I want to say?”

I lifted up the back of his tuxedo jacket with the tip of my Laxafier. “Where is your tail? Your horns? Your cleft hooves?”

He laughed. “I am not zee deveel, Agent Froleek. I am a man, like yore-self. A man on a die-et. I try not to eat zo much, yoo know. But eet eez very deefeecoolt.”

“You dare compare yourself to me?” I stared him down, my face inches from his, until his laughter died. “No,” I said. “You are Satan Incarnate. You peddle your illegal substances to children. Children! I hope you never learn to eat air. I hope you starve to death in Fat Camp.”

Fatso looked at me for a long moment. He nodded. Almost sadly, it seemed. “I am sorree I laf,” he said. “Only zat yoo remind me of sum-wun I know.”

Suffice it to say, Fatso was out of jail twenty-four hours later. We gave him the standard dose of laxative when we booked him, but his bowels were as clean as a canister of brussel-sprout-flavored air after I’d finished with it.

I was there on the courthouse steps when we released him.

“Froleek!” he said, beaming at me in the spring sunshine. “Sank yoo for zees opportooneetee to meet yoo. I want to tell yoo, eef yoo and yore fameelee ev-air haf zee hung-air—”

“We’ll eat air,” I said. “Now get lost, Fatso.”

“Eef yoo ev-air change zee mind—”

“I won’t.”

He climbed into his limo. “Een zat case, I weesh yoo, bon appetít.”

“Crêpes suzette and beef bourgoignon to you too,” I said hotly. “Whatever that means.” The limo pulled away from the curb. “You can’t run and you can’t hide either!” I shouted after him. “You’re too fat! You hear me? I’ll get you if it’s the last thing I ever do! Besides dying, that is.”

That was a year ago. I hadn’t busted a Supper Club since, much less found a crumb of evidence we could use against him. I could only dream of Thanksgiving.

Long since outlawed, Fatso still celebrated that unholy day on the usual Thursday in November, when all the mafia dons came to D.C. for their annual convention. What a coup it would be to interrupt that little shindig! I had been working the streets for months, just trying to find out the location of this year’s gathering, but no luck. My snitches didn’t know, or if they did, they weren’t telling.

But Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Air-Eating Happiness went on as usual. Fatso alone was not enough to stop us. Together we, as a nation, continued our unstoppable rise toward the final stage of human evolution, the destiny the Prophet ordained for us in Food-Free At Last.

Then something happened, something so extraordinary that it threatened to bring down everything we built, evict the Prophet from the Thin House and return the food terrists to power. Looking back, I see the hand of the French Secret Service at every step.

It began with a murder.

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