They were mashed together. Kanye West and Taylor Swift’s worlds collided on a public hot plate. All hopped up on hops, the crispy rapper from Chi-town baked insult into the country girl’s home fries. Chipped but not skinned, Taylor owes her rescue to the golden queen of au gratin Pop, Beyonce Knowles.

Face the fat. Pop culture serves itself up this way, smothered in savory gravy with a sweet-side of something candied. Consumers find the yammering irresistible though they know well how to achieve a balanced media diet, the kind that makes moms smile. The rules are simple and akin to those that govern the consumption of carbohydrates. Increase intake of the complex, reduce the simple.

Target demographics reported by Time Warner Cable in 2008 reveal that MTV heartily caters its message to persons ages 18 to 34. The network says “The driving force behind MTV is its deep bond with young adult audiences…MTV is their source, confidante, sounding board, partner and much more.” We talk. They listen.

When Pop culture decides to fry an artist, the world prepares to dine. Apparently, we, the treasured young adult audiences, should personally thank MTV for the food fight at the network’s 2009 Video Music Awards, and for future messes. The antics of a man, drunk and bold, have become the stuffing of conversations at break-room water coolers. They have been analyzed, boiled over, both on Baltimore’s notorious West-side streets and in the legendary west wing of the White House.

Ignored is America’s salad appeal, this country’s unique way of mixing the ugly, chilling for a while, then serving up beauty. It is the sadistic, selective memory of Pop culture, the American main stream, that skins pop icons, all in pursuit of dish.