Rhinocrisy

Judging by our comment history, some of our readership are sadly underdeveloped in the range of skills required to be evil. This might become a problem for them in a hypothetical post-apocalyptic future where they will need to be willing to backstab comrades for those precious six gallons of 93-octane unleaded, or administer some effective eye-gouges in the middle of a knife-fight. We thus present this (possibly) continuing series, hoping to contribute to your greater degeneracy. No need to thank us! That wouldn’t be evil.

So, a coalition of parents is suing Kellogg’s and Nickelodeon because they are apparently running commercial advertisements for “junk food” targeted at children. Both Nickelodeon and Kellogg’s deny this vehemently:

A Nickelodeon spokesman said the network has led young viewers to be more active and eat healthier–and has pushed sponsors for more balance in their offerings. And a Kellogg spokeswoman declared that the breakfast-staple maker is proud of its contributions to healthy diets, and its efforts to educate people about nutrition and exercise.

Let us learn from this example. First of all, you will note the use of official spokespersons. VERY evil. If you have an official spokesperson, you’re probably already well on your way to being a horrible bastard. Ideally, your official spokesperson should brazenly refuse to apologize for your crimes and conclude their sentences with an appropriate maniacal cackle, like the favored “Muahahaha!” or possibly a clangorous “Wahahahaha!”

If that proves impossible, though, it’s nearly AS evil to insist you’re being good when it’s clear to all and sundry that you are, in fact, some sort of cacodaemon. Observe the picture to the right, which combines the Kellogg’s product “Wild Bubbleberry Pop-Tarts” with the popular Nickelodeon character Sponge-Bob Squarepants. Now, let’s establish some facts. Although I haven’t consulted with a botanist, I am fairly certain that there is no such actual berry known as “bubbleberry”, although I have been able to determine that it is the name of a breed of cannabis plant. (I attribute this to coincidence. But those of you at home, note: marketing cannabis-filled Pop-Tarts to children would be AMAZINGLY evil.) For those of you who only consume Müëslïx, I will tell you that a Pop-Tart is a device containing a fruit-facsimile covered with a thin sheen of petroglaze, possibly studded with radioactive nubbins composed of Strontium, Iridium and the especially flavorful Rubidium. They were created as an emergency mechanism to prevent the stomachs of starving college students from collapsing while the damn cafeteria was closed on weekends.

It should be abundantly clear that encouraging kids to consume such a beast is NOT THE RIGHT THING TO DO. Neither Buddha, Jesus, Sgt. Slaughter, or any of the other Good Guys would approve of such a move. Yet not only did Kellogg’s and Nickelodeon team up to do this, they afterwards insisted that they care about the health of children and are proud of what they have done to contribute to it. That, ladies and gentlemen, is evil you can take to the bank and smoke.