As I sit here drinking my instant brewed Mystic Chai Tea (guaranteed, by the label on the can, to be “almost metaphysical”, whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean), I’m wondering about all these drinks, potions, and ingredients that have suddenly appeared out of nowhere and taken the front row seat at our local supermarkets. Where did they all come from?

Green tea, ginseng, fingfing, lizard tongue, extract of newt — you’re pretty sure that you’ve been transported to a small village in the middle of fartfairy nowhere and the local medicine man is shoving a dusty bottle into your hand, telling you to take a couple of slugs and call him in the morning — if you make it.

Really — these are the visions of my childhood, made real in the crappy, 12 frame-per-second illustrations of a half-lit Saturday morning at the boob tube. I imagine that Lipton consists of a bunch of green-faced, cranky old ladies with gigantic cast iron tubs in front of them over a flame and mumbling, “Bubble, bubble, boil and trouble.”, all the while fondly caressing their flying cleaning devices and sipping Snapple.

But, at any rate, why did these suddenly appear? I can’t imagine that these various plants have been hidden all this time and people have suddenly decided that they make something good to chug after a run around the block. It has definitely become a popularity contest, except that, unlike in 5th grade when it was a challenge to see who would eat the nastiest thing, it is now, “Who will buy a drink made with the juice of an X?”

I want to be one of those researchers who discover ingredients for these things.    I’ll bet they get very nice trips (first class, of course) to remote locations where a tour guide named, “Fantot”, leads them to the top of a hill to show them the native flora.   The researcher then spends an hour or two looking at the strangest plants in the vicinity and saying to himself, “Sure, it kills all flies that land on it and looks like the ass-end of a squirrel, but can I squeeze it and make people drink it?”

The slogans and claims are even better.    We’ve gone far beyond the mundane and everyday, “refreshing”, beverage — now they must do something for you.    “Fold laundry faster!     Pave roads quicker!”   Anything and everything can be written on the side of these cans and bottles, and the funny thing is — people really go for it.

Here’s some translations for you all who are wondering what the latest terms really mean:

“Greater mental clarity!” — The air is so pretty, I could just snort it.

“More energy! Greater stamina!” — And you’ll be up all night, hovering over your bed, because you’re hyped on smack.

“Burns calories!” — Well, of course it does.   It also causes cracks in the concrete from your knee bouncing like a guitar string on speed.

“Mellowing”  — If you mean bringing you up to a speed where you’re shaking so fast that your vision clears, then yes.

All of these products are clearly marketed to the teen to 35 year old group, because they all look like you could slap four Goodyears on them and have yourself a race-worthy vehicle — when all you’re really getting is a Dodge Caravan with spinning hubcaps.    You could probably zip open the can, flatten it, and use it to decorate a disco afterwards — and with the boost in energy, who needs a hammer to pound in the nails when your own fingertips work fine?

So, head on over to your local store and slug back a few of these “wonder drinks”.   Just when you think life couldn’t get more hectic, we’ve now invented a way to make it go faster.   Just nevermind the powdered teeth in the morning, eh?