For some reason it just seems funnier to me than all the other imitators of this peculiar marketing gimmick’s moist, polyunsaturated semiotic corner. Two others deserve some kind of no-prize, however.
Secondly, a supermarket generic from Britain’s ASDA chain (right), whose twist on the naming gimmick is abandoned due to the discovery of a truly obscene pun.
UPDATE: Hey, just found this in the fridge:
Update 2: A great comment from reader Chuck:
I thought I knew what butter was.
It’s a subject of minor importance, I know. Nothing that should inspire horror. Or so I had thought at one time.
I was once like the countless throngs of people in the world, all confident in what they believe to be their knowledge of what they spread on their bread or use an ingredient in their meals. But now, I find myself alone.
Was my decision wise? I frequently find myself second-guessing, ever since my unintended self-exile from humanity. “Should I return to the old ways?” I often ask myself in the lonely silence of my home. Should I return to the purchasing and dietary decisions I made before I stumbled upon the horrible knowledge, and rejoin society?
I can’t. No matter how much I want to be among others again — to talk, to touch — I quickly remember what’s inside them now, what’s in the air they exhale.
What would consume me faster? The isolation and madness? Or that “food” I’ve fled from? Will I acquire the lifespan of the gods while I watch everyone around me whither and die? Will I become the type of mad and unknowable creature that set this substance down among mankind?
Only time will tell. I’m committed to a new course now, and not entirely on my own volition. Incomprehensible fear set me on this course after I did what no one else, to my knowledge, has ever done when I looked at the ingredients on that plastic tub of what humanity believes to be butter, and found something … unbelievable.