And yet, as relentless as the obesity crisis appears to be, its expansion doesn't have to be a foregone conclusion. That's because, unlike a naturally occurring epidemic, it's almost completely human created -- a reality that allows for the possibility of a human-directed reversal.

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That nebulous word "stuff" is significant. It asks us to see all exports as the same and to refrain from making nuanced value judgments about what exactly we're shipping overseas. In this coldblooded view, a job-creating export is a job-creating export, and that's as far as any conversation should go.

At first glance, such reductionism seems logical, rational, even boringly uncontroversial. But two recent news items highlight how in a globalized economy, there are troubling consequences that come from the particular kind of export economy we're building.

The first bit of news came from the Washington Post, which this week reported that "the Obama administration is crafting a proposal that could make it easier to export firearms and other weapons." Though the Homeland Security and Justice Departments say the new rules could make it easier for terrorist and drug cartels to further arm themselves, the White House is nonetheless citing the "stuff" theory of exports to ignore the objections.

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So here's a crazy idea. This time, let's not use the beginning of the year as an excuse to hate on our bodies. Let's not swear to get a tinier butt by Memorial Day, or even Labor Day. No 21-day "action plans." No master cleanse. Nothing, in fact, that sounds like an enema from a dominatrix. Instead, let's do something radical. Let's do something small.

In just the time it takes to realize that "Work It" is the worst thing that ever happened to television, you could change your life. Thirty minutes a day. That's the minimum amount of physical activity the CDC recommends to stay fit. Yet approximately 30 percent of Americans get no weekly activity at all. Zero. Not even candy-ass pastimes like gardening. And many more of us aren't exactly wearing out the gym membership cards. Right now, the only thing moving at a fast pace in our country is the obesity rate – 30 percent and climbing.

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"This child's problem was so severe that we had to take custody," Madigan said, adding that her office had worked with the boy's mother for over a year before removing him. The boy first caught the attention of child services when his mother brought him to the hospital last year with breathing issues. He was diagnosed with sleep apnea, and now uses a machine to assist his breathing while he sleeps.

Was the boy's mother, in fact, neglectful? That's something the state still appears to be determining. The boy's mother told the Plain Dealer that "They are trying to make it seem like I am unfit, like I don’t love my child. Of course I love him. Of course I want him to lose weight. It's a lifestyle change, and they are trying to make it seem like I am not embracing that. It is very hard, but I am trying."

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I had happened upon yet another media debate in response to the controversial JAMA article that came out a few weeks ago. This study looked at whether intervention was ever warranted when parents allow their children to become dangerously obese. The study itself was balanced in its approach, but the talking-head response was anything but. This particular pundit -- shoulder-shrugging with a clear look of disgust on her face -- talked about taking fat kids away from their parents as if it were nothing more than trading in a car. I had to turn the TV off, my stomach in knots.

I wondered what this woman would say if she met my own parents. Would she blame them for the way I turned out? For that matter: Should I?

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"What's wrong?" he asks, concerned by my ashen expression.

I can't tell him that the unwieldy, overstuffed laundry bag is a visual representation of my failure. I am 55 pounds overweight. Having recently hit 221.2 on the scale, I'm no longer forgivably chubby or husky, zaftig or big-boned. I'm not even fat. I've crossed the border into obese, and that is too much for me to bear.

I've been in denial about the number. I argue that, inside, I'm the same person I've always been. But the reality is that I can no longer easily do the things I love. The old, adventurous, unstoppable me decided to run the New York City marathon after one disciplined year of training -- and finished in under five hours. When I met Jeff, I was a fit size 12, going daily to power yoga class. Lately, though, I'm always the biggest person in the studio. Where I used to stand proud and tall at the front, I now hug the wall or lurk behind a pole, hoping to escape notice. It requires courage to take my place in a room packed with bendy bodies in booty shorts; many days, I'm just not brave enough.

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After everyone else began calling the story dumb and pointless and inane, the Post... ran a poll. Now the people can decide if Michelle Obama is "a hypocrite" for eating a hamburger! In order to justify the newsworthiness of "Michelle Obama eating a hamburger," the Post's Tim Carman Googled "Michelle Obama" and "hamburgers," and discovered that she has eaten at least five hamburgers in the past.

Type in “Michelle Obama and salads” into Google, and you gets tons of hits about her introducing salad bars into schools. But few hits of her ordering salads in public.

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Cracked.com's always funny series "After Hours" discusses the real menace to Gotham City.

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Much of that increase is due to aging populations -- since diabetes typically hits in middle age -- and population growth, but part of it has also been fueled by rising obesity rates.

With numbers climbing almost everywhere, experts said the disease is no longer limited to rich countries and is now a global problem. Countries in which the numbers rose fastest include Cape Verde, Samoa, Saudi Arabia, Papua New Guinea, and the United States.

"Diabetes may well become the defining issue of global health for the next decade," said Majid Ezzati, chair of global environmental health at Imperial College London, one of the study authors.

He noted the figures don't reflect the generations of overweight children and young adults who have yet to reach middle age. That could create a massive burden on health systems.

"We are not at the peak of this wave yet," he said. "And unlike high blood pressure and cholesterol, we still don't have great treatments for diabetes."

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The bottom line is both obvious and indisputable: Women may indeed be less overweight than men, but they are more socially persecuted for their weight, as evidenced by a hypocritical society that so often celebrates the Fat Guy while denigrating the Fat Lady. Because of this dynamic, women solicit weight-loss programs more frequently than men, and weight-loss companies target their advertising more aggressively toward women than men.

Now, two weeks after my column was published, a new Arizona State University study tells us just how successful that advertising and social stigmatization have been in making many women psychologically obsessed with weight -- even to the detriment of other health priorities. As the study documented:

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Obesity is a national health crisis ... If current trends continue, it will soon surpass smoking in the U.S. as the biggest single factor in early death, reduced quality of life and added health care costs ... Obesity is responsible for more than 160,000 excess deaths a year ... The average obese person costs society more than $7,000 a year in lost productivity and added medical treatment." — Scientific American, January 2011

Considering those troubling statistics, Advertising Age's headline this week is welcome news: "Weight Watchers Picks a New Target: Men." The story details how the nation's biggest diet company is using the NBA playoffs to launch its first male-focused advertising campaign. Sounds great -- except for one thing: Why only now?

This is a significant question in a country whose debilitating weight problem is more male than female -- and "more" means a heckuva lot more. According to the Kaiser Family Foundation, almost 70 percent of men are overweight, compared with 52 percent of women. Yet, somehow, 90 percent of the commercial weight-loss industry's clients are female, and somehow, this industry hasn't seen males as a viable business. How can that be?

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The public service-spirited campaign, part of Michelle Obama's Let's Move! initiative, is certainly a decent two-step in the right direction. Childhood obesity has tripled in America in the last three decades. And with no turnaround in sight, it's a deepening crisis with significant long-range consequences – and one that is disproportionately affecting low-income and minority children. The health problems associated with being overweight and obese in childhood range from increased risk for Type 2 diabetes, heart disease and high blood pressure to the immediate and very real threats of eating disorders, self-esteem issues and bullying.

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Huckabee's crime? He supports Michelle Obama's anti-obesity initiative, because modern-day culture-warrior right-wingers do actually think encouraging healthy behavior for children is an infringement on liberty. And because of that suppot, Huckabee is clearly a left-wing Nazi Progressive -- "like John McCain" -- who conspired with McCain to ... sabotage the Romney campaign, in 2008. (???)

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Friends of 29-year-old Blair River say he died Tuesday, possibly from contracting pneumonia after a bout with the flu.

Restaurant founder Jon Basso tells The Arizona Republic that River was more than the larger-than-life caricature he portrayed in promoting the restaurant in Chandler, which includes huge hamburgers, milkshakes and fries cooked in lard on its menu.

Basso says River was a creative genius who had been planning to take part in the shooting of a promotional spot called, "Heart Attack Grill: The Musical."

The 6-foot-8 River was an Arizona state heavyweight wrestling champion in 1999.

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Information from: The Arizona Republic, http://www.azcentral.com

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Since having it implanted, Hetzner, a 20-year-old Munich mailman, has knocked off more than 10 kilos (22 pounds) from his earlier weight of 104 kilos (229 pounds).

Hetzner got the device as part of a clinical trial. Since being approved by Britain last month, the device is available for sale across the European Union. It works a bit like a cardiac pacemaker, and consists of a stimulator and a sensor surgically implanted onto the stomach.

The stimulator sends out electrical pulses meant to trick the stomach and brain into thinking the body is full. Hetzner said the pulses kick in a few minutes after he starts eating or drinking. He said they make him feel full after finishing about half the amount of food he would normally eat.

"It feels like a little pressure on my stomach or a tickle, but it's not a bad feeling," he said in a telephone interview.

"It's been like a little guide to help me change my life," he said.

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Part of the "Obama Nation" strip by James Hudnall and Batton Lash, the cartoon shows an overweight Michelle Obama scarfing down hamburgers while telling her husband about her anti-obesity efforts. Barack, meanwhile, is shown with enormous ears (bonus points for originality) and complains that Michelle is going to undermine his reelection efforts.

The punch line? Michelle shouts back, "Shut up and pass the bacon!" Bravo, Breitbart and co. Bravo.

You can see the comic here.

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Well, back in the day I was still the chubby, cuddly cutie-pie who carried some extra pounds, but I made it work. Cool clothes from Urban Outfitters still actually fit me. I looked halfway decent in purple jeans and flowery shirts, even if I looked like the keyboard player for Erasure. Women still found me attractive. They still wanted to sleep with me. I'm funny. It helped balance out the weight. Now even that doesn't work. Any joke I crack around a woman comes off as perverted or creepy or both. This weight has killed me.

These are not uncharted waters for me. I've talked about my weight issues at length. To doctors. Friends. Nutritionists. At Overeaters Anonymous meetings. I have written about it in scripts, books and articles. I've promised myself a million times: "This will be it. Today I start. Today I lose weight!"

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First, he'll have to get over the resistance to this counter-intuitive notion and the anger of the six or seven still-employed magazine food editors in America. I mean, isn't the whole point of food porn to make you drool in your lap and want to tear into a pot pie? Yes, Tierney explains, but there's a difference between the psychological phenomena of "sensitization," which is when picturing that hot, steamy pot pie makes you want it, and "habituation," which is when you get over that desire, satisfying it. What Carey Morewedge (I find it impossible to not say his full name) found was that people can bypass their desire and trigger habituation to food. But to do so, you can't just imagine having it in front of you; that leads to sensitization. You have to really, concertedly imagine yourself in the process of eating it. A bunch of it.

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But soon, they were calling me fat. I wore the ugly Catholic school uniform, a brown plaid pinafore with a white blouse and Peter Pan collar. Under this hot mess, I wore cheap polyester pants, also brown. All the girls had them.

"Fat pig, fat girl, fat thing!" This boy never had a name. He was older, in another grade. He threw one of the red rubber balls at me, hitting me in the stomach, laughing as the weight knocked the wind out of me, leaving me gasping for breath on the ground. Catholic school, that failed experiment in my religious education, ended shortly afterward.

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I’ve long grown accustomed to the swollen face, the limp, dull brown hair. But today, it’s the grotesquerie of my 336-pound body that I cannot fathom: My arms, pasty white and pocked with vile brown freckles, are way too short for my frame. I am 30 years old, but my breasts hang their heads due south, as if they, too, are ashamed. My short, stubby legs grow from the floor into two lumpy sides of beef, angrily shoved together to form what could kindly be called thunder thighs. How about hurricane hams? Tsunami saddles? Finally, wearily, I force my gaze onto my stomach. Mounds of dimpled, stretch-marked flesh threatens to topple the rest of my body and renders my vagina hidden from view. I want to turn away, but I am frozen in place, taking in all the gore. It is even worse than I thought, and believe me, I thought it was pretty darn dire.

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