Have you ever seen how a dog behaves when he bites into something that he really doesn’t like? How he leaves his mouth open and seems to be licking the surface of his teeth to just get. that. taste. out?

I just did that.

At dinner tonight, we had a very good southern meal brilliantly executed–pork chops and gravy. There are better southern meals in the pantheon, but not many. Chicken fried steak. Rib eye steak, grilled to perfection over a charcoal fire (not gas, you weaklings). One or two burgers on the Sonic menu, as long as a limeade accompanies them. But pork chops and gravy is up there. Can I get an amen?

A little while afterwards I wanted a snack and a few minutes out of the house so I headed up the the neighborhood store. They sell a great creme soda there. I always check the snack racks to see what’s new, and walking past the rack my eyes beheld a strange sight: Ketchup flavored potato chips. I’ve never had those before, and I do like my chips, so I figured “What can go wrong?” I like potatoes, and I like ketchup, and as french fries I like the two together. “What can go wrong?”

Well.

Murphy’s Law states that whatever can go wrong, will. And in the case of ketchup flavored potato chips, everything has indeed gone wrong. They are to potato chips what Sy Hersch is to reliable reporting. They are to a tasty snack what Gigli is to brilliant film making. They are to food what Hezbollah is to dead-aim accurate rocketry. Ketchup flavored chips are to food what the UN is to decisive, correct action that helps democracy and thwarts tyrants.

Ketchup flavored potato chips are a food crime.

That is all I have to say.