I am but a man. I have my desires and my weaknesses. I have this website, and the other website, and a Hyundai, and very little else to draw off of for solace in times of darkness. In times of darkness, I curl into a corner and I become the frightened boy that I always have suspected I am.
The Cap’n, though… The Cap’n never has to change himself. The Cap’n has only ever had to be the Cap’n. When the Cap’n reaches his lowest moment, he seeks the solace of no corner in no dark room. When the going gets tough for the Cap’n, he appears within a giant sprinkled donut and gives to the world. He only creates. I only destroy.
The Cap’n has, with his Sprinkled Donut Crunch, created a breakfast experience that has never entered my context of existence. In a typical situation, like that of the Dog and his Cookie Crisp, or the Oreo O’s, or the damnable SMORZ, a normal dessert is bastardized and perverted into being a breakfast food for children. The Cap’n, with his magic and hatred for the order of the world, has decided to turn a breakfast food into a different breakfast food. The natural law and order that defines breakfast has been altered irrevocably by the guilty imperialist Horatio Magellan Crunch.
There is blood on Crunch’s hands and there is cereal in my stomach, and the fucked up thing is that he will be able to sleep tonight and I will not. Crunch has committed crimes, yet Crunch will never face punishment and never understand his culpability. I have committed no crimes, yet I will never know peace and I will never understand my culpability.
Sprinkled Donut Crunch is no more than an update on the classic “circles” school of cereal design, and it makes the milk taste like no milk should ever taste. This is not a food, and I left my kitchen unfulfilled – though this is no fault of the cereal and more the fault of myself.
OVERALL RATING: 2/10
Crunch is guilty. Crunch should be held accountable for what he has done to the order of breakfast. Donuts are breakfast. Cereal is breakfast. Sprinkled Donut Crunch is a crime.