Like sugar, obesity has a metabolism. It was useful at one point as a savings bank, a storehouse for energy, and it is because our societal organization makes such usefulness superfluous that fat has been forced to exploit its other uses, in albeit subtle ways. If I wanted to disappear without a trace- that is, in a completely unremarkable way- I would become obese. People look, but not with a view to see anything of interest. Instead they are repulsed. The conspicuousness of obesity is a lie, a reversal of conspicuousness, actually: "Nobody wants to see that." I am not talking about the frustration others' scopophilic pleasure; I am trying to get at my own pleasure. This kind of solution, although it may sound offensive or callous, has the stamp of a homeopathic remedy: a small amount of poison introduced into an already malfunctioning system, in the hopes that this particular ounce of "bad" will be the straw that tips the scales to "good."
I don't have much faith in homeopathy, or in the thought that my system would identify one specific addition (and decide "Yes, this is it, I don't think my processors/receptors/abstract biochemical structure can abide by any more," and proactively snap into working order) which is the reason, perhaps the only reason, that I bother with not getting fat and that I take the trouble to make such a lengthy metaphor. Useless distinctions about sugar - about fatness, about books- instead of actually getting fat. Again, like boring you and me to tears, it may or may not be pathetic.