Our world is governed by the desire for
instant gratification. High speed internet access delivers
information and
porn on demand. Humans, throughout history, have always had a need to go faster and live longer. The best possible outcome of this push for speed is, of course, the
popcorn button.
On most modern microwave ovens, there are a series of buttons that the user presses that will effectively reheat the designated food stuff: pizza, vegetables, soup, and frozen foods can all become toasty, edible meals at the touch of one button. This is primarily a time saving function. Most food a person can cook in a microwave has a stable cooking time, and is easy to regulate. However, microwave popcorn is the needy, codependant, bi-polar bear of the instant food category. Either you're left with a bowl full of "old maids" -- unpopped kernels -- or a bag full of carbonized corn.
The popcorn button solves these problems. There's some mysterious voodoo interaction that goes on once the button has been pressed that I refuse to jinx. Perfect popcorn every time is a gift horse that I just can't find the mouth on. I can now stuff cholesterol-rich, salty popcorn into my gaping maw while sanitizing my intelligence in front of my television worrying about exactly how hard my eyes are being bombarded with electrons instead of whether or not I might accidentally chip a tooth on my meal-wrecking snack food.
Thank you modern microwave makers! You're killing me slowly, and I love it!