Am I the Spread of Life?

Why is it that when people discern bearded faces in their food, they assume them to be the countenance of the Lord?

For some reason, Great Britain has in recent years been home to a number of food apparitions. You could say, of course, that the British have the best food in the world, and then they cook it, and then some small approximation of the Second Coming occurs to save them from eating it.

It’s no accident, I think, that most of these apparitions have occurred in what look like scorch marks on pieces of toast and fish fingers.

Anyway, here we have a putative Head of Christ In Marmite Lid. But why do we leap to the conclusion that this is Jesus and not someone else — aside from wanting to provide The Sun with an entire article’s worth of religious puns, that is? After all, history has given us many bearded guys. Why didn’t Claire of Ystad, in Rhondda, South Wales, open her jar of Marmite and exclaim, “Good heavens! There’s Rasputin!”

I don’t know, I don’t know . . .

I never especially thought of Marmite as a religious food, though I suppose as penances go, it’s not bad. Of course, they say the same thing about peanutbutter, which we consider to be the staff of life around here. As far as I know, however, no hirsute visage of indeterminate-but-suggestive identity has ever appeared to us in the Skippy.

Robert E. Lee?

Chuck Norris?

Charles Darwin?

John Steinbeck?

Confucius?

The guys from ZZ Top?

I don’t know . . .

[Rating: 50/100]

Many thanks to Anthony for sending this one along.