Meating

A couple of mornings ago, I awoke to find a song about cow farts in my news feed. Given my personality and preferences for comedy, it is not surprising that the elves at Google and Twitter and so forth would see fit to bring me this as an update.
(sung to a bouncy country beat)
"When cows fart and burp and splatter,
well it ain't no laughing matter—
they're releasing methane every time they do.
And that methane from their rear
goes up to the atmosphere
and pollutes our planet, warming me and you!
Yes! That methane that they pass
is a greenhouse gas
that'll trap the sun's heat n' change our climate, too!"
So here is the most amusing bit: The song is an advertisement for Burger King. The home of the Whopper. Recently the moldy Whopper. While we all try and sort out our lives during what continues to be a rather lengthy stay in our living rooms, fast food continues to be a link with a world we left behind in March. The advertising agency behind Burger King seems to be invested in getting your business as we continue to shelter in place. For context, it was about a year ago that my wife sampled her first Impossible Whopper. This non-meat treat  received the glowing review of "pretty good fast food sandwich." The notable omission of the word "burger" in that opinion was telling, but for her tastes, it was sufficient to bring her back to the King. 
Fast forward to a few weeks ago, when my wife offered to bring dinner home while she was out. A pleasant enough invitation, but I might have taken note of the day. It was Monday, and when she came in with a bag full of burger and fries, I chose to ignore the looming specter of Meatless Monday. She told me that it was from the pub down the street from where we used to live. Not a fast food joint. When I turned the bun over to apply ketchup, I noticed how incredibly uniform the patty was, and my suspicions began to rise. This is the woman who once sneaked chard into our Sloppy Joes, after all. Someone brought me dinner, and I have learned not to complain loudly when this happens, if at all. Unless it has something to do with bananas. Then all bets are off.
Of course she had brought me an Impossible Burger. The lettuce, pickle, onion, ketchup and toasted bun helped deflect some of the concern I might have had for the lack of meat. I ate it like a good boy, and thanked her for bringing me dinner. She asked if I noticed anything different. She may have felt she was getting away with something. I assured he she had fed me and that was beautiful. She had not pulled one over on her favorite carnivore. 
Which brings us back to the fart song. Should I be impressed that Burger King is actively trying to convince us all that they want to save the planet and continue to sell us fried food? For a moment there when the Impossible Burgers first landed, I wondered if a fast food chain might just go all in on plant-based products and use that as their standard. Now I wonder, if we can get cows to stop generating so much greenhouse gas, can we have guilt-free Whoppers, Big Macs, Double-Doubles and so forth? Sounds impossible. 
But a song about cow farts? That's a gift. 

"To change their emissions,
Burger King went on a mission
testing diets that would help reduce their farts,
That's a start!
And by now there ain't no question
that it's helping cows' digestion
adding lemongrass, so they can play their part.
 Reducing methaaaaaane… methaaaaaane
We can reduce emissions by more than a third!

Got the cow-kids singing for a better woooooorld!"