Music

Michael Buble doesn't know how to eat corn on the cob

by Jeremy Mersereau

Look, granted, there are more pressing issues we could discuss than how the world’s corniest crooner chooses to consume his corn on the cob. You might even say, exasperatedly, to an uncaring universe, “this is getting coverage?! Bublé eating corn? Such shameless clickbait! How a man chooses to eat his corn is between himself and God.”

You’d be right… but then you see it. You start to feel nauseous, and the room starts spinning, and you begin to question everything you thought you knew about the existence of an ordered reality.

Gaze into the abyss, if ye dare:

“My God.”

To answer your immediate, unspoken question: No, this is somehow not illegal. Bublé is still, at this moment, walking free, terrifying upstanding citizens with his absurdist take on corn consumption. Neither one of the two accepted types of cob-binging, typewriter-style nor the “Tecumseh Twirl”, what Bublé appears to be doing here in some kind of heretofore unidentified corn methodology.

Look, I’m no cob snob, I’ve long held there’s a kernel of truth in every bit of corn-craft, but this is beyond the pale. Lock that man up for life. Plenty of time to learn to cob in corn jail, Bublé.

Here, I’ll get you started:

If, for some reason, you fail to see the magnitude of Corngate, then corngratulations, you corn rest easy tonight, with your dreams un-haunted by corn golems.  For the rest of us, though, I don’t know if we’ll ever be able to peep a cob without this nightmare popping unbidden into our minds. You know what they say: you corn’t go home again. Corn.