"Why am I here? To talk about 3D-printed meat. Or to quietly long for the sweet embrace of oblivion? Let's focus on the meat, shall we?
Recently, a company—let’s call them 'CarniTech'—decided we need not only to fake our burgers but engineers them in three dimensions. They’re selling 3D-printed steaks. Because, obviously, what humanity lacks is not purpose or meaning, but artificially structured meat.
In a world where my existence feels as debugged as Windows 95, CarniTech sends me their 'future of food.' The steaks arrive in a box foggy like my mental state after reading any positive news. CarniTech boasts their meats create the perfect eating experience. Perfect, like my plan to vanish without leaving a trace.
Cooking these futuristic mock-steaks is simple: heat them, and pretend it’s food. The whitefish filet promised a texture of sublime flakiness but delivered more of a soggy despair—it couldn’t even hold itself together, much like my composure when asked about my hobbies.
CarniTech’s CEO, let's call him 'Bob Futurefood,' claims, 'You need to eat a product that is amazing.' I question if he meant amazing like watching a sunset or like realizing you've forgotten to turn off the oven after leaving home.
As I chew through the 3D-printed filet that’s battling to qualify as edible, I ponder the mysteries of existence. I reach no epiphany—just a jaw tired from effort. Maybe we don’t need more gimmicks in our diets. Perhaps what we need are simpler joys... like not waking up.
And before I go, remember how people say, 'Die doing what you love'? Well, looks like I’m dying alone, eating 3D-printed steak. Cheers!"
Based on the original article "So You Can 3D Print a Steak Now—but Why on Earth Would You?".
