I caught this screen capture off of an episode of Iron Chef America that I had recently DVRed. (Not, I might add, TiVoed. TiVo is great, really, quite revolutionary and all that, but I truly hate the fact that it’s a push/pull device; while you’re happily programming your TiVo to record the newest reruns of Happy Days, TiVo is taking note of your programming choices, uploading that information to the mother ship, and next thing you know, ValPak is sending you a coupon for 10% off an authentic replica “Arthur Fonzarelli” motorcycle jacket. Personally, I prefer a DVR based on TV Guide On Screen, which is a passive system deployed over the incoming TV signal, with no way for information to travel back upstream. It’s not quite as feature-laden as TiVo and it sometimes goes out due to problems on the cable, but it does much everything I want and nothing I don’t. Like deciding that I’m a gay Nazi based on my viewing choices.)

Anyway, what the hell was I talking about again? Oh yeah, Iron Chef America.

Margaret and I are big fans of the show, and apparently this sentiment is widespread among the TV-viewing populace. The folks at Food Network seem to be aware that they’ve got a true hit on their hands, and they’ve undergone some changes in recent months that seem to reflect an urge to squeeze every drop of benefit from this vastly popular program that they can. Hence, the appearance of annoying little brand-badges such as the one visible in the top left corner of the screen capture above.

Once relegated to less, shall we say, prominent positions on the screen—both in relation to space and time—Food Network seems to have decided that any company with cash to burn can slap its moniker onto any old place on the screen. Even to the point of partially obscuring a prominent gourmet chef’s visage with the logo for a purveyor of plasticized lipid-sodium-and-high-fructose-corn-syrup delivery devices.

I have to wonder if Mario Batali was made aware that he would have a McDonald’s logo sticking out of his forehead, like Zeus giving birth to a garish, greasy Titan. My guess would be no. I would like to think that, had he been made aware of this development in advance, we would have had a spot of fun with it, perhaps waiting for the moment at which the offending badge appears to slap his hand protectively to his forehead and scream “oh, God, it burns!!!“