PIGGING OUT FOR PEACE

LET'S GO SLOW ON FASTING, THERE'S A LOT AT STEAK HERE

THIS IS BEING written from table number three at The Palm restaurant. It's a statement of political protest. If you consider this location a bit odd for the writing of a political protest, just hang on for a few minutes.

I believe we ought to stop funding the Strategic Defense Initiative, or Star Wars. To help convince Congress of my dedication to my protest, I've decided to risk my life as the world's first person willing, if necessary, to eat himself to death for social justice.

So right now, unless there's a sudden news flash from Capitol Hill on Star Wars funding, I'm going to make good on my threat to order a steak with the famous Palm fries, and I'll eat them. And I won't stop there. I've scheduled a press conference in half an hour, just when I should be finishing up a portion of Black Forest cake for dessert, preparatory to heading outside to the nearest Dove Bar vendor, on my way down the street to an Italian restaurant with a nice fettucine Alfredo.

As a doctor, I know I could be dead in less than a year from arteriosclerosis, liver failure, kidney breakdown, fluid retention, diabetes -- risks that no one else has ever dared to run in the cause of peace.

Even facing this grim prospect, I feel a certain relief. For years, I've felt terrible about my inability to publicly advertise that my commitment to social issues is as deep and lasting as that of the various fasters who have actually succeeded in changing public policy here and there.

The problem is that I couldn't fast no matter how important the issue at stake. In fact, whenever I stop eating for any extended period I get dizzy. Soon I can't think clearly. After a day or so of not eating, I'm certain I wouldn't even be able to remember the cause that I was starving myself for, which would make a terrible impression on the journalists attending my press conferences and writing profiles of me.

Why should this physical handicap deprive me, and the millions like me, of a right to participate in the political process with all the clout of the hunger strikers? Is it fair that many people interpret my unwillingness to fast as a sign that I don't care about these things? And isn't it ironic that by undertaking social protest, these fasters end up becoming templates of the thin-is-in trend while I get shunned as not only immoral but dowdy for the spare tire around my middle?

I didn't find the answers to these questions until I faced the fact that I've never fully understood the equation between how much you eat and how much social change you can cause. The equation appears to be largely a symbolic one, if I read the powerful effect of these protests correctly.

Then it came to me: The equation, like all good equations, can work both ways| Suddenly, the wonderful world of proving my moral worth in the fight against apartheid, homelessness, nuclear power and the slaughter of baby seals was open to me. Why couldn't a person demonstrate his dedication to a social issue by being willing to eat instead of starve himself to death?

I decided not to compete with the seasoned pros in homelessness and contra funding, and picked Star Wars instead.

I now weigh about 165 pounds. Over the next several months, I'm certain I can increase my weight to 250 and maybe even 300 pounds. Before you find yourself concerned, even angered, let me caution you that this is not the gesture of a naive idealist. I'm a medical doctor and I'm fully aware of the fact that gaining 150 pounds in the space of a couple of months is as dangerous to one's health and life as losing the same amount of weight.

As for the cynics among you who doubt the discomfort, even agony, of my ordeal, consider what it will be like to face five, ten, a dozen meals a day -- the escargots in garlic butter, the crabcakes, the antipasto, the liqueurs and especially the desserts. I expect that the sound of the dessert cart rolling toward my table will come to invoke the same dread in me as the rumbling of the tumbrels once did in the French nobility on their way to the guillotine.

No doubt, like all innovators in the fight for social good, I'll pay a price for my originality. But why should social protest be carried out according to a formula? Some of us can starve ourselves in protest against, say, Star Wars; some of us can only help by eating more. If you want to get the attention of Mr. and Mrs. Front Porch USA, you have to do something unusual. Hunger strikes have gotten to be run-of-the-mill, and it's all too easy for our complacent fellow citizens to ignore them and the causes they represent -- think of the sacrifices made by Dick Gregory, Mitch Snyder and now Charlie Liteky, in his recently broken fast to protest aid to the contras. Nobody questions their pain, but how many people think about their causes?

Ultimately, my "Pig Out for Peace" program will force all Americans to confront the moral challenges they have too long avoided with excuses of insatiable hunger, hypoglycemia or other health problems. And fat people will be able, at long last, to shed the cruel stereotype of selfishness with which the rest of us have stigmatized them.

Each of us can join the crusade. Who knows, maybe someday a movie will be made about one of us, with Raymond Burr in the leading role.

Here comes my favorite waiter. It's time to start demonstrating how committed I am.

"Bink," I say, "I hope you realize this is an historic occasion. If my efforts are successful, social protest in this country will never be the same. I've thought things over very carefully and befitting the importance of the moment I'd like to start off with an order of Steak a la Palm."

Richard Restak is a neurologist and author who writes a regular commentary column for Newsday. His book, "The Infant Mind," will be published in November.

Articles appear as they were originally printed in The Washington Post and may not include subsequent corrections.