The Root of Taco Bell's Evil: Exposed!

"This is my dissertation,
Homie this shit is basic,
Welcome to graduation."
-Kanye West
If within the gleaming nugget of everyday life there lies a lesson to be learned, stashed into the breast pocket of a recently ironed dress shirt for later use, and then bandied about and wielded at every given opportunity to flaunt our newfound wisdom, then April 17, 2008 taught me that there is no better man to supply a countless parade of aphoristic maxims for epigraph application than the inimitable Kanye West.
However, this has nothing to do with any of that.
What you are about to find your eager, scandal-starved iris nourished by are the refreshing Visine drops of clarity. Not since Upton Sinclair made Austrian immigrants feel that their peculiar habit if urinating in steaming vats of ground beef seem justified has the fast food industry been stripped down and revealed for the sick sham that it is. While I plan on using this earth-shattering research project/exposee for my eventual Ph.D thesis paper, I feel as though the "blog reading demographic," which is actually completely identical to the "Taco Bell customer demographic" should know before it is too late.
My suspicions of tom-foolery amongst the Taco Bell marketing staff began a year ago, when, in mid April 2007, I sprinted from my sixth period classroom to the nearest Taco Bell like a giddy little schoolboy, salivating at the prospect of sampling the new 7-Layer Crunchwrap Supreme. I hadn't been this excited since August of 1998, when my neighbor told me that he would trade me one of his two Charizards for a holographic Scyther. Alas, that Charizard turned out to be a counterfeit lizard-imitator with glitter sprinkled on it. From that day onward, I vowed never to allow myself to be so vulnerable again. Until that fateful day. And, essentially, the much-hyped 7-Layer Crunchwrap, which was being hailed by critics (and the guy on the Taco Bell commercials) as the single greatest thing since oxygen itself, was also a counterfeit lizard imitator covered in glitter. Basically, it was just like the other crunchwrap, the original that we had so blissfully loaned our hearts to . . .except it had no ground beef whatsoever, and a fat surplus of sour cream, therefore it sucked.
However, from the ashes devastating tragedy rose a phoenix of revelation. From the Ground Zero of this terrorist attack rose a gigantic bump in the bumper sticker sales of motivation. Yes, these similes are outlandish, but I'm making a point here. Basically I realized, in an epiphany rivaling that of Muhammed's encounter with God in that desert cave, this: EVERY SINGLE TACO BELL ITEM IS THE EXACT SAME THING, ONLY ARRANGED IN A DIFFERENT WAY AND GIVEN SOME CRAZY SPANISH SOUNDING NAME!
Still, I new that my claims would be met with protests and outrage from the Gordita-guzzling Taco Bell sycophants of the world. So I chose to take the route of the true scientist, and break it all down mathematically.
Basically, the formula to Taco Bell's deception consists of:
These 14 ingredients: Beef, chicken, beans, rice, lettuce, tomato, sour cream, steak, tortilla, tortilla chips, thin, stringy cheese, or runny, melted cheese.
These 7 prefixes used to affix the latest combination with a name seeming authentically Mexican: gor, bur, crunch, chal, ques, nacho, taco.
These 5 suffixes used in fusion with aforementioned prefixes: ito, upa, dilla, supreme, dita.
These 5 adjectives used to make the highlight the allegedly new characteristics of the latest birth of the Taco Bell kitchen: Cheesy, crunchy, melty, grande, spicy.
Using these elements, Taco Bell continues to churn out their supposedly innovative, limited time offers for delicious, greasy substances, fooling and beguiling us into purchasing something that we believe is fresh, fantastic, and fleeting while actually just recycling the elements of the original burrito. Brilliant marketing scheme or contemptible trickery? I choose the latter.
When, you must be wondering, will the jig be up for taco bell? According to my calculations (I've always wanted to say that) not any time soon.
You see, one can calculate the possible food combinations of Taco Bell by multiplying the number of potential ingredient combinations: 14 x 13 x 12 x 11 x 10 x 9 x 8 x 7 x 6 x 5 x 4 x 3 x 2 x 1=8.71782912 x 10 to the 1oth power, or 87,178,291,200 combinations, or 87 billion possible menu items.
However, this is not entirely accurate, because Taco Bell has a finite number of ways to describe these items and maintain the illusion. There are 7 prefixes, 5 suffixes, and 5 adjectives available for them. Under these restrictions, there are 245x245 possible means of describing their latest concoctions, which equals 60, 025 different names for Taco Bell menu items, ranging from the minimalist Spicy Chaldita Supreme, which is just tortilla chips slathered in sour cream, to the eventual juggernaut "The Spicy Cheesy Crunchy Melty Grande Nachodita," which would contain beef, chicken, beans, rice, lettuce, tomato, sour cream, steak, tortilla, tortilla chips, thin, stringy cheese, and runny, melted cheese in a disgusting, water-heated orgy of decadence.
This disgusting, morally corrupt cycle of deception will rake in untold billions of dollars for Taco Bell Inc. over the next several millenia. Assuming that they release two new items a year, this despicable circus of cheesy gordita evil will continue for the next 30,012.5 years. Mankind itself isn't even expected to survive that long.
I urge you, Crunchwrapped, masses, unite and rise up against the tyrant! Free yourselves from the bounding chains of your ignorance and curse the skies for your blindness! Descend upon the Taco Bell Headquarters bearing pitchfork and torch, preparing the corporate bastards running this scheme for their ultimate damnation.
Until then, however, I'm a little hungry. I think I going to grab a Grilled Stuft Burrito. That new chicken and steak one looks delicious.