"Lunchables" peddler Oscar Mayer tries to mislead consumers into thinking that its meat products are healthier than they are, alleges a lawsuit filed against the company this week. Oscar Mayer prominently displays the words "98% fat free" on the label next to the calories per serving, such as "98% fat free, 50 Calories per Serving." The suit alleges that this implies that each serving contains only two fat calories when it actually contains 10 times that amount.

Deceptive meat marketing is nothing new. For example, some consumers are now convinced that greasy turkey burgers are "health foods," even though some varieties are actually higher in fat than their unhealthy counterpart, extra-lean ground beef, according to the American Dietetic Association.
 

A. Sparrow/cc by 2.0

No, I’m not feeling very lunchable today.

 
Slick advertising aside, the fact remains that meat consumption is directly linked to heart disease, strokes, and obesity, not to mention cruelty to animals. By choosing delicious vegan options, you can enjoy your food and your health.
 

Written by Michelle Sherrow

In the wake of the death of Oscar G. Mayer, we are offering those at Kraft Foods our condolences and support during these difficult times. We understand that laying someone to rest is often a time when we try to find the silver lining to an otherwise gray cloud, and we can think of no better way to derive something positive from this death than by burying the Wienermobile along with Mr. Mayer.

The Wienermobile traverses the countryside and entices children to try Oscar Mayer meats, which can set them on the road to developing life-threatening illnesses. And while the late Oscar G. Mayer famously gave his meat a first name and a last name too—there are millions of cows who will never be given a name and will end up slaughtered—possibly for Kraft's B-O-L-O-G-N-A.

We have written to the people at Kraft Foods letting them know that while we are saddened by their loss, the burial of the Wienermobile with Mr. Mayer not only would give people a chance to pay their respects but also would spare children from future health complications and save millions of animals' lives.

Written by Liz Graffeo

Jerry Ringlien, who created the disturbing “My bologna has a first name” campaign for Oscar Mayer in the ‘70s, died yesterday of a heart attack in North Carolina. As someone who works in a Marketing Department, I certainly have a lot of respect for people who can craft the kind of iconic ad campaign that Ringlien created, but it’s so tragic to me when such obvious talents are used in the service of promoting something like the pig industry—which crams animals into metal crates and kills hundreds of millions of them a year in the most gruesome ways imaginable—rather than something less hateful, or (God forbid) even helpful.

If you’re someone who can make a product that’s made from stomach, snout, intestines, spleen, and lips and that is known to increase the risk of cancer and (yes) heart attacks seem like a fun lunchbox item for kids across America, you can clearly sell any idea to anyone. I only wish that Mr. Ringlien had used his creativity to help animals instead of hurting them.

PETA’s pig gives her side of the story outside the infamous “Weinermobile,” which Ringlien helped to revive