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This Tuesday, 7 March, is one of the most beloved annual occasions on the entire national calendar of the USA—nothing less than National Cereal Day, that one amazing date of the year when citizens everywhere are finally permitted to break out a bowl, top it up with fresh milk, and spoon-feed themselves some delicious, sugary breakfast product…other than every single other day of the year, that is. An obvious and deeply desperate marketing ploy upon behalf of cereal manufacturers, the “holiday” seems almost beyond parody.

Also beyond parody, however, are the increasingly sinister attempts of these very same cereal peddlers to abuse their privileged place in the nation’s kitchens to push an extreme far-left identity-politics agenda. We know these efforts are beyond parody, because parody of such schemes has already been tried before, way back in the 1980s—only to then finally come true for real, about thirty years later.

Snap, Crackle, and Plop
In 1987, conceptual artists Michelle Handelman and Monte Cazzaza published a spoof alarmist essay, “The Cereal Box Conspiracy Against the Developing Mind.” Ironically coming from a left-wing perspective, which hoped to lampoon 1980s U.S. consumer culture and deluded extremist evangelicals of the day who saw satanic conspiracies everywhere they looked, even in kids’ innocent morning meals, the artists posited the unlikely existence of a sinister plot to warp young minds via the superficially harmless medium of cartoon-branded cereal boxes, here revealed as being a secret “Trojan Horse into the hearts and minds of little Billies and Debbies” nationwide.

Having sarcastic intent, the artists naturally made the boxes’ subliminal messages as ridiculously obscene as humanly possible. Chocolate-colored cereal snacks became wicked encouragement from ass-licking corporate devils for children to engage in acts of senseless coprophagy, training them up to be compliant adult anus-worshippers and eager, ever-hungry consumers of any old corporate crap placed on offer to them. The turd-colored chocolate pebbles in the middle of the bowl pictured on the front cover of Flintstones-branded Cocoa Pebbles cereal, for instance, were not truly meant to be pebbles at all, but something even more indigestible.

Supposedly, “The clincher is in the giant cereal bowl before them [i.e., Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble] with a hole bored out in the center with the aid of Barney’s ‘drill.’ From this sphincterish hole, large brown blobs are shitted out.” The Flintstones weren’t alone in encouraging young boys to lick one another’s brown bowls clean either: “The cover of Corn Pops, formerly Sugar Pops, also boasts the prevalent hole with flying feces, with the ‘O’ in Pops jettisoning large yellow-brown blobs to all corners of the box.”

Just as disturbing was the clear brainwashing intent of Breakfast With Barbie cereal, whose overwhelmingly girly-pink carton with its picture of “a scantily-clad Barbie showing lots of plastic flesh” was not aimed simply at pleasing little princesses, but also sought to “confuse a young boy’s sexual orientation,” the subliminal association between effeminate pinkness and naked Barbie flesh twisting preteens’ brains and turning them homo. This would be welcomed by the cereal barons as “market surveys have found gay men to be more avid shoppers than their hetero counterparts.”

All completely ridiculous, of course, and by deliberate satirical intent. Yet scarily, as the systematic ideological colonization of every conceivable aspect of our previously politically neutral public space by today’s lunatic left continues apace, it seems the previously fictional Cereal Box Conspiracy is actually coming true: Inanimate cardboard boxes really are now secretly plotting to spoon-feed YOUR children into becoming homosexuals. Except it’s no longer quite so secret anymore. These people are actually proud of it.

Cereal Offenders
Every year now, to celebrate the annual Rainbow Ramadan festival (also known as Pride Month), politically captured corporations compete to outdo one another with rainbow-hued, queer-friendly marketing schemes, some of which, such as male toiletry product Every Man Jack’s amusingly misjudged 2021 “Groom With Pride” Twitter slogan, are inadvertently highly revealing.

One product line only too happy to bend your kids over the breakfast table and bum them every morning before school is Kellogg’s Pop-Tarts, who in 2022 teamed up with black homosexual New York-based artist [sic] Thaddeus Coates, who apparently “creates bright and thought-provoking graphics centered around amplifying Black voices while also focusing on diverse representation, black queer joy and racial equality among other important topics,” whilst simultaneously studiously ignoring certain other traditionally “important topics” like aesthetic worth or simple artistic integrity.

Channeling “the spirit of ’90s era cartoons,” Coates provided eye-watering coloration to the boxes of a special limited-edition series of NEON Pink Block-Party Lemonade Pop-Tarts marketed in collaboration with obsessive gay activist group GLAAD, and sold online at $5 a pop. Coates’ propaganda scrawls even appeared in frosted form on the front of the toasted breakfast treats themselves, thus rendering them even more emetic than usual.

In 2021, Kellogg’s had already colluded with GLAAD to release their equally limited-edition Together With Pride breakfast product onto supermarket shelves, in order to demonstrate why “Boxes Are for Cereal, Not for People” (coffins excepted). The company’s most famous corporate cartoon mascots, from Tony the Tiger to Toucan Sam, appeared on the cover waving transgender flags in enforced gay worship of a large bowl of literally saccharine, rainbow-colored hearts, sprinkled with edible glitter. On the side of the box was a handy guide to personal pronouns for your hopefully soon-to-be transgender, diabetic-identifying kids to cut out and keep. GLAAD described this panel as “a tear-out ‘Together Band’ [for children] to proudly share and wear their pronouns” should they now be bran-washed enough to do so.

Profits were donated to GLAAD, who welcomed the prospect that such boxes would “create opportunities for homes and families to have conversations about the importance of acceptance, compassion and understanding, especially when it comes to LGBTQ youth”—the main conversation presumably being “Why the fuck is my breakfast cereal now trying to persuade my 5-year-old son to chop his dick off?”

No wonder when, in 2022, fake memes of a purple-haired, transgender Pop, of Snap, Crackle & Pop fame, went viral, many did actually believe the company had decided to march their Rice Krispies line down a whole new pink avenue.

They’re Magically Pernicious!
Bizarrely, Kellogg’s today has not merely a commercial strategy but a quasi-religious “vision,” one of “a just and good world where people are not just fed but fulfilled.” Allegedly, the Church of Kellogg’s will create “a place at the table for everyone through our trusted food brands.” Really? A “place at the table” for everyone? No, because, in today’s world of nightmare corporate Gleichschaltung, Kellogg’s is unlikely to invite the many U.S. conservative or Christian groups who objected to their insanity to sit down at the table and sup with them, not even with the very longest of long spoons.

Such queer-skeptic criticisms were predictably smeared as coming from “the far-right” (a far-left euphemism for “normal people”) by Pride-friendly critics, who condemned TV news anchor Grant Stinchfield for joking that rival cereal manufacturer General Mills had already beaten Kellogg’s to market with their famous Lucky Charms leprechaun mascot, who was obviously queer as “he wears high-heeled shoes [and] prances around in tights.”

But, once again, the joke turned out to be reality. Beginning in 2013, General Mills had already abused their “magically delicious” Lucky Charms brand during Pride Month by exploiting the chance fact that, amongst the sugary mini-marshmallows in each box, some happened to be shaped like rainbows, phenomena once associated with leprechauns’ traditional pots of gold, now subverted to signify pots of brown instead. General Mills’ #LuckyToBe campaign urged social media users “to share what makes them proud to be who they are and why they are ‘lucky to be’” who they are—i.e., definitely not straight. Lucky the Leprechaun now even makes appearances on floats at Gay Parades, waving at crowds in the company of fellow food mascot the Pilsbury Doughboy. Whether or not the duo are officially a couple is not known.

In their inadvertently prescient 1987 essay, Handelman and Cazzaza facetiously bemoaned the “cynical revamping of fairy tales” by cereal conglomerates as embodied by Lucky Charms’ “friendly Irish midget” who was really “a pied piper who keeps children in line with the promise of sweet confections, controverting parental dicta not to accept candy from strangers.” The artists were parodying past popular paranoia about what nefarious schemes the deviant elites who run Western societies might really be up to, mocking what they saw as silly, old-fashioned 1980s conservative fears about radicalized gays and lesbians coming for Joe Public’s kids.

Yet, as happens so often these days, what was once absurd has now become commonplace. Just because you’re paranoid, it doesn’t mean they’re not out to queer you.