Where's my McRib, dammit

Yes, it has been a while since my last entry. And in the weeks since, several pressing questions brew:

• Do Sen. Boxer's pointed statements regarding Condoleezza Rice's past record (in the latter's confirmation hearings) indicate that the minority party will openly criticize the opposition only if their 2004 election vote total was the 3rd highest in the country (exceeded only by Bush and Kerry)?
• How will the U.S. conduct its foreign policy towards Iran in the coming year, especially in light of Seymour Hersh's upcoming article in The New Yorker?
• Where's the McRib?!

I sighted it when I was down in LA over the winter break. I've heard reports of "McRib distribution centers" in other parts of California. But one of my coworkers and I discovered that here in the Bay Area, pork levels are running precariously thin.

McRib is a mysterious phenomenon. Like a solar eclipse, or southern oscillation, its appearance is rare and fleeting. Yet its impact is difficult to quantify. To break it down into its components:

One thing I have to ask: What is that pickle doing there? Seems like this guy showed up at the wrong party. Anyhow, it may be quite possible to synthesize a McRib from lesser sandwiches. For example, the onions from a Quarter Pounder. The barbecue sauce from the Chicken Nuggets. The gestalt could emerge. It's been done elsewhere, much to nauseating effect.

To further examine the mystique behind the McRib, I plotted it on a handy bivariate chart. As you can see, it excels on both the succulence and decadence metrics: