I know jellybeans are bad for me, but they're even worse when manufactured by a company that doesn't understand the subtleties of the art. Like making sure the ratio of pink jellybeans to all other flavors is less than 75:1. And seeing to it that red jellybeans make a strong showing (or some showing). And throwing a couple of black jellybeans in there to remind us that Christ died on Easter and evil still surrounds us, even when we're filling our fat pouches with colorful candies.

Brach's jellybeans set the bar for me. Their beans were large, with a loose, crunchy sugar-skin. Each bag had an ample supply of black jellybeans and they even went one step further by including weird brick-colored beans that tasted just like cinnamon. God damn, that's smart. I have gotten sick on Brach's more times than I can remember. (their candy corn is unparalleled as well, though i haven't eaten candy corn since the 'great candy cramps' of 1991. not coincidentally, this was preceded immediately by the 'five-pound candy corn marathon' of 1991.)

Where have Brach's gone? The way of the do-do? In their place (loosely stated) are Ferrara-Pan (nice try, but stick with Pineapple Heads), Smuckers (bacdafucup!!), Starburst (joyless re-imagining of their fruit chews in a bean shape), and Life-Savers. (i declare these pure shit. i'd rather be kicked in the testicles by a homeless man in a soiled green power ranger costume. ask any homeless guy if you don't believe me.) Each substitute fills me with equal parts disappointment, rage, and unquenchable sexual frustration for reasons too complex to explain. But for starters, let me just say this: too sweet, too pink, and completely devoid of evil. Ferrara-Pan, the only member of the previously mentioned pectin mafia to bother with black jellybeans at all, has practiced a strict policy of separatism. If you like black, you'd better love black because you can only get them by the sack. Pouring a full bag of black candy into a dish on Easter is a grotesque act and should be practiced only in the home of Anton LeVay.

If I worked retail, I would say the absence of Brach's is another act of global terrorism - just like those difficult to fold shaker knit sweaters that just came in. But, as a civilized person, I can only mourn the loss silently, and oil my shotguns.*

*that's the official "cop out" ending often employed in my posts. in other posts, "oil my shotguns" may appear as "cry myself to sleep" or "masturbate until only air comes out." just some insight for you. i needed to wrap it up.