I’m Down With The Fruity Pebbles

Over the last eight or nine months, I’ve been holding down a diurnal schedule, getting up at 7 a.m. for work, which means I eat breakfast. Previous to this new pattern, I hadn’t eaten that meal since the mid-1980s, so I’m a little unpracticed in what to choose. Seeing as I also have to consider the lack of time, I almost always go with cold cereal.

It started with the so-called healthy stuff, but then I could hear those all-too-familiar voices calling to me in their synthetically sweet tones from the grocery store shelves. “Matt… Matt… Come BACK!” And now it’s come down to my first meal of the day involving funny cartoon characters pimping low-nutritional joy in pretty colors from the outside of cardboard boxes.

Oh, I’ve used up and tossed away the usuals like cheap whores: Frosted Flakes, Rice Crispies, Cap’n Crunch, you name it. It’s been a literal Babylon of sucrose sin leading to lower and lower depths of gastronomical ennui. But, currently, I’ve been partaking of the Fruity Pebbles. Not the most masculine sounding cereal, but the assortment of faux-citrus flavors keeps my attention during my struggle to gain a fully awake state. And since you’ve gone this far into the post, I will expound upon my current breakfast choice for the edification of all.

Barring any sort of weird nostalgia some adults might have for Bedrock’s main residents serving as spokespersons for their morning meal choice, I wonder what the attraction is for the children of today. I mean, Fred and Barney really aren’t current in any sense of the word — in fact, the actual show is older than I am. But, 40+ years later, they can still sell cereal. This is significant as, last time I checked, there is no cereal dedicated to Rocky and Bullwinkle, The Banana Splits, or Wheelie and the Chopper Bunch. Even the masters of pre-teen mind control, collectively known as Hanna-Barbera, are dead. But, from out of the prehistoric rubble (pun intended), the Flintstones can still shill for breakfast food after all of these years. So, yes, at 7:34 in the a.m., I am thinking about these things while I wait for the sugar rush to kick in and start my day.

Also, I’ve noticed the comparative lack of toy prizes in cereal these days. Granted, they’re not the draw for me that they were back in the ’70s and ’80s, but, seriously, what about the kids? Don’t they deserve cheap, plastic baubles at the bottom of each box? Or are they too absorbed in XBox and Harry Potter to care? There was a time when we expected — yea, demanded — a completely disposable, mold-injected trinket whose appeal would last an entire afternoon unless taken away by our third-period teacher. But, take a look now and see what you get. Cut-out cards with tips on going “green”? I object, good sirs! Travesty! Poppycock! Not RIGHT!

I’d hate to be a youngster now. But, I’ll sure as heck eat their cereal and laugh sadistically as over-sweetened milk runs out my nose. Surely, not the prettiest picture for a Magister, but gosh darn it, I’m eating the Pebbles and I don’t care who knows it! Yabba Dabba Go-F-Yourself!


Matt G. Paradise is Executive Director of Purging Talon, a media company responsible for releasing groundbreaking and often imitated audio, video, print, and Web work since 1993, including the internationally respected Satanic magazine, Not Like Most. Paradise is also a Magister in the Church of Satan and, since the early-1990s, has also done media representative work for the CoS through all major media forms — network television, radio, print publications, and the Internet. He is the author of Bearing The Devil’s Mark, a collection of writings on Satanism; as well as editor of The Book of Satanic Quotations (First and Second Editions). He was also producer and co-host of Terror Transmission, a horror movie commentary podcast; and is currently the producer and host of three podcasts (The Accusation Party, Vintage Vinyl Vivisection and Strange Moments in Cultural History) on The Accusation Network.

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