So it's 2AM on February 16 and you're staggering through the supermarket in a mopey, lovesick stupor. You know the only thing that'll assuage your hunger and loneliness is two armfuls of heavily-discounted Valentine's Day candy. Don't say, "I don't know what you're talking about," or "That's not me." We've all been there! We've all done this walk of shame, just at different Krogers.
And what do we always discover when we arrive at the seasonal candy section? The one that had been there since exactly one minute after Christmas, six weeks before the actual day of St. Valentine. What we ultimately find is that we've never had a chance; there are no significant sales on Valentine's candy. You may have thought this was a reasonal expectation - after all, your self-esteem and personal standards are 50% off! - but alas, you must pay full price for your candy binge. It's no coincidence that the eHarmony Free Trial Weekend has just ended, and you must pay full price for that also.
You gaze melancholically at the sparsely-stocked shelf and see only a few vestiges of lost caloric romances and aborted gifts; the dreams that were never dreamt, in packages covered in hearts. In this moment you determine that there's no love in this world.
So why aren't there any candy sales after holidays, and where am I going with this? Well allow me to present a fable that will answer that specific question, and tell you everything you need to know about human nature's dichotomy: conviction and corruption.
The saga continues moments after Valentines Day as you sob yourself to sleep, a resurrection occurs in the candy aisle: it's Easter now! Even though it's still February, next time you're at the store you will witness the resurrection of Easter merchandising. It's a pastel wonderland and all things are bright and happy again! Just a few weeks ago the M&M® guys were decorated with hearts, now they're hanging out with bunnies. Let's extrapolate: in a few months (but still several months before Halloween) they'll be wearing monster masks, then Santa hats. Then it'll be Valentine's Day and Easter all over again. And it'll be always be in the same aisle, and here's the kicker: it's always the same candy! The same stale, preservative-loaded clumps of sugar are simply repackaged for every holiday. Why put the candy on sale and unload the inventory when you can just put them in a new bag and sell them full-price? It's not like they're gonna go bad, it's not like there's any natural ingredients in them. What a racket!
Now let's step away from the seasonal candy aisle. (Come on, let's go. Seriously, turn around.) But on our way to get tested for diabetes, let us stop by an ice cream shop, preferably a corporate chain (as if there were another kind.) Look at all the Mix-Ins you can get: Reese's®, Hershey's®, M&M's®, et al. They're not offering you ice cream with some generic peanut butter cups, they're giving you Reese's, the brand you know and love. That should maximize it's desiribility. Reese's marketing staff suggests so anyway. You wouldn't want a milkshake with off-brand candy, WOULD YOU? (Shake your head "no")
Now turn on the TV and let's watch some commercials. Look, a Hershey's ad! Hey, here's one for York; whoa the an icy sensation is freeeezing everybody up! Hmm, a Reese's commercial. How about that.
Alright, now let's go to the t-shirt section at Target. We're looking for "ironic" t-shirts. Do you wanna wear a shirt with a famous "retro" brand's logo on it? "Ironcally"? Cool. It looks good on you, buy it!
You were just tricked into paying Reese's to wear an advertisement for them.
As we go through the check-out lane, you have another chance to buy just about any candy bar you could want. As long you want one of the big name-brand candies. Can you buy an Alan's Chocolate Bar? No. This is prime retail real estate, the point-of-sale, where you have been programmed to make "impulse purchases" just before you walk out of the store. As you step back into the world, it should be clear that the candy conglomerates control everything in it.
The Candy Conglomerates. Grab anyone of the dozens of candy bars off the shelf and flip it over to see who makes it. There's oodles and oodles of flavors out there, but they are all the confectionary intellectual property of Hershey's®, Mars®, or Nestlè®. That's it, only three super-corporations control the entire candy market. And if you think those three aren't in cahoots with each other also, I've got some Snake Oil I'd like to sell you. I also have Dark Chocolate Snake Oil™, Snake Oil™ with Peanut Butter, and Snake Oil™ Mini-Bites.
What happens to small business candies, like Cynthia's Crunch Bar, or Cincinnati Chocolate Co.? When they try to compete with Big Candy, they're eliminated. How could they possibly compete without big-brand resources: Hershey's® commercial advertising omnipresence, Nestlè's® brand ubiquity, or the ice cream crossover potential of Mars®? You can't!
Suppose tomorrow, you invent the most incredible candy bar in human history. Best case scenario: you hand it over to one of the Big Three for a dollar. It would take an army of billionaire backers to wedge any market share from Nestlè®, Mars®, and Hershey's®; and we both know that you know no billionaires, buddy. Just give up the recipe and take what they give you. It doesn't matter how good it is, don't attempt to negotiate higher compensation; Mars® will straight up gank that shit if they want it. It'd be like taking candy from a poor person.
Despite the capital oligarchy of Big Candy - believe it or not - there was a time when there was a more level playing field. In the early 20th century, all the players were crooked, to be sure - yet there was one White nougat-filled Knight among them. His name was Charleston, and he had this little chewy candy he liked to call his Charleston Chew.
Charleston was a hard-working of humble means. Growing up in a small Virginia town, he had big dreams like beautiful hot air balloons floating in the slow-moving clouds above. Yet his flights of fancy didn't alienate Charleston or make him the town weirdo; he was a beloved figure whom the children would visit frequently, to see what sort wild confectionary concoction he was working on. Whether it was butter-flavored bubble gum or strawberry brittle, Charleston always had something yummy for the kids. He was like a less extravagant but more altruistic Willy Wonka.
The day Charleston invented the Chew was a day of incredible hooplah. A thin chocolate stick filled with flavored nougat made the telegraph wire piss itself. Folks were heard exclaiming, "Golly, Charleston! You've got a candy here that's the bee's knees! A real winner! Why, you're sure to make a keen impression in the candy market!"
I know that sounds real stupid but that's how people talked back in the day. That'd be like today, someone saying, "OMG Charleston Chew Apple store selfie #first world problems."
Meanwhile, candy tycoons like Hershey, Reese, and York were making a real killing. But these were all blue-blooded, old money barons (I mean, come on, York?) To be quite blunt, they were all the beneficiaries of America's slave-labor system that conjured an incredible surplus of sugar cane in the previous century. It's hard not to succeed with such a sweeping head start.
The Sweet Elite began to take notice of Charleston and his "chew". Though they thought the name and marketing were rather provincial (the bright yellow wrapper is supposed to be "edgy?") they wanted a piece. In February 1925, Charleston was invited to an infamous sit-down in Pennsylvania, which turned out to be a who's who of candy tycoons. Everyone was there: Hershey, Reese, Kit Kat, Heath, York, Oh Henry, Fredo. You've probably never heard of Fredo and his delicious hazelnut chocolate bar, that's because he was eventually assassinated by the Candy Cartel and ignored by history. You won't hear about this fateful hit in your school textbooks, which are edited and printed by Big Candy. Do you think it's a coincidence they have vending machines in every school hallway? Isn't it ridiculous for children to have constant access to candy at school? Candy used to be damn treat! For only every once and a while!!
Excerpt from the book, Bittersweet Truth of the Candy Industry (Out-of-print, Banned in USA)
"Look here," Hershey snarled at Charleston. "We've got big plans, see?"
"These bite-size pieces of the market simply won't do," added Reese.
"We're gonna take it all!" Baby Ruth brazenly shouted, "We're gonna have our candy bars right next to every register in every store! From now on, nobody can buy squat in the general store without reaching over our goods!"
Hershey continued, "People will get so used to buying our candy, it'll be like breathing. It's basically going to be a mandatory tax on sugar-junkies. But to do this, we must band together."
"Well, gentlemen, I don't know what to say," Charleston responded. "I honestly can't believe all these ulterior motives and conspiracy plots coming from candy entrepreneurs. All I ever wanted to do was make a nice life for my family and give the world a delicious treat!"
Heath jumped in, "Maybe you're not understanding us. We're offering you a chance to get rich. Ya just gotta join the winning team."
Charleston said something real sappy, though sincere, about already being rich. Everyone moaned in unison.
With Charleston refusing to budge, the negotiation was futile. Hershey punctuated the conversation, "Charleston, you realize if you don't merge into our corporation, you will never be able to compete with any of us. No kids are ever going to ask for a Charleston Chew cause they'll never have heard about it. They'll only know the world-famous Hershey's® brand candies, the ones with all the advertising power and reputation."
"And you haven't even heard about our year-round holiday idea," shouted Butterfinger. "What the hell are ya thinking?"
"He must have nougat for brains," snickered Snickers.
Charleston must have never imagined a giant a Charleston Chew sign in the middle of Times Square, but the city never impressed him no how. He walked out of that meeting and into obscurity forever. He could've had a huge Payday, and also a lot of money, but what did Charleston Chews? To do the right thing!
This brings us to today, when you can still find Charleston Chews, but only in dimly-lit discount stores. Of course if it's a mainstream Nestlè®, Hershey's®, or Mars® product you desire, it's available in fun-size, King-size, bite-size, ice cream, tee shirt, milkshake, pie, cookie, candle, and body lotion anywhere you go on the Globalized Earth™.
So let this fable be an inspiration to you when it feels like the whole world is conspiring against you. Whatever your situation is, make Charleston proud; do the right thing and never sell out! After all, it's no coincidence that this story hasn't been reported by the mainstream media. Why would a media entirely supported by advertising money disparage some of it's most significant contributors, or Sugar Daddies, if you will?
But another reason you've never heard this story is because of its tragic ending. Like many heroes, Charleston couldn't simply ride off into the sunset, he had to be met with a cruel, nasty fate.
In 1940, Charleston was found dead in a hotel room with twenty-four caramels in his throat, a European candy called Riesen. The ironic thing is that he had a bag of Riesens, yet no Riesen to live. The cause of death was determined to be asphyxiation, but ruled an accident and not a suicide.
So let that fable be an inspiration to you. Next time you're depressed over the fact that Hershey's®, Mars®, and Nestlè® control the entire world and how there's no hope and life is pointless, do what Charleston did. Lock yourself in a dark room, put on some Leonard Cohen or maybe some Slowdive, close your eyes, and stuff your mouth full of Riesens! To be clear, I'm not saying commit suicide via caramel (which is not what Charleston did anyway.) What I'm saying is, the delicious European chocolate Riesen is not meant to be consumed casually and on-the-go like a simple Starburst. The proper way to enjoy this amazing caramel decadence is in a very intense and ritualistic fashion; the experience is somewhere between a heroin binge and a sex orgy. Try it. Start with eight Riesens in your mouth and work your way up. Try it.
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