As I sit here in my squeaky chair, staring at the large cornucopia of chocolate in front of me, I wonder if there is some benefit from having miniture candies. Other than the obvious reasons, like less cavities, less expensive and more friendly towards dieters; is there any other benefit to these bite sized morsels? Do the companies somehow profit in someother way other than the fact that it is Halloween? There are so many downsides to the aforesaid benefits that there has to be an obscure ulterior motive.
After thinking about this for a few minutes, and after a trip to the bathroom where I noticed that my mother had bought new toothbrushes, I came to the conclusion that miniture candies in no way prevent cavities or any eventual toothaches. That is just some housewives tale, a fancy excuse for the dentist, who in a few weeks will be swamped by patients who didn't know where to stop. In fact the miniture candies are like the silent but deadly farts we're subject to during Monday night football, un-suspecting foil packages packed with an explosive taste that can cause eventual, if not immediate addiction. One after another, these persistent miniture candies will whisper in crackling glory, tempting you to to grab one, and then once more, grab another. Their power is in numbers. While a regular candy bar is soon gone, these deadly pocket-sized treats will lay in a subterfuge of formation, innoccently piled together in a bottemless plastic pumpkin.
Contrary to Christmas or Valentines day where you can put aside the commercialism and state that the holiday is really about giving and love: Halloween has no deeper meaning, other than the spirit of creatively scaring your older sister. The large bags of diminutive candies only serve as snares for corporate candy-stuffing execs to snatch the unsuspecting buyer. The enormous amounts of candy are advertised to appear cheaper than they really are. Unless your a stingy candy giver, your going to have to give out at least two or three as to not risk being egged later. Factoring the amount of traffic your house recieves is the key thing, your going to have to buy several bags of minute candies in order to keep your house safe. So not only do eventually get addicted, you barely save money.
Not that I am dieting or anything, but miniture candies are the dieters devil. They act so innoccent, convincing you that just having one won't hurt you. It is in that very moment in which your fingers give in and take that small tiny choclate that your fate is sealed. These tiny sweets do the same thing that any diet soft drink does. The apparent lack of taste mocks your tongue, forcing you to go on a eating quest to fufill your need for the missing flavor. That one abberation to your dieting regime will be your first temptation, and this time their won't be a last. The snatches of caramel, nuts, nougut and chocolate will leave your senses begging for more, and so you grab just one more. Your inner candyholic tells you 'More, more, more' and your mind will rationalize by the comforting knowledge that the wrapping doesn't even have a nutritional guide. Before you know it, the bag is gone.
What is the reason behind these small traces of sweetness? Its addicting yes, but why? I would suggest to try one for yourself, but no I am too kind and risked it for you. As I un-wrap the tiny snickers candy, my hand trembles, but not from anticipation, from teh cold, I go to shut the door. Coming back, each step is filled with trepid, un-masked fear. I seize it and quickly strip it of its blinding foil. Before I pop it into my mouth though, I hesitate and slowly take a bite. Immediately I am entranced by the bitterness of the peanuts and the sticky smooth caramel. the thin layer of chocolate covering adds to the concoction, and in that brief moment of euphoria I am hooked. I reach for another, and quickly gobble it up, regardless of what I was taught when I was a child and my babysitter would read aloud Miss Manners. Soon a pile of torn wrappers lies by my keyboard and the the mouse is sticky due to messy hands. Still I grab another, and another, and another. . .
__________________
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
T.S Eliot, "Preludes"
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