Image via Wikipedia

HOME IMPROVEMENT TIP: Selecting the paint for a room and then choosing a carpet to match the paint colour is a lot like selecting a wedding dress and then choosing a bride who will look good in it.

And my takeaway so far is that I need to get married to a very smart woman, and have several children in the hope that one of them will be a genius, so that when this child grows up, he or she can read The Meaning of the Pentateuch and explain chapter 2 to me, because, like, huh?

Image via Wikipedia

Now that Christmas is over, it’s time for me to revisit one of our sacred holiday traditions and smother it in a healthy dose of Grinch powder. Yes, it’s time that we do away with one of the most worthless goodies ever created—the candy cane.

First, a little history (thanks Wikipedia!). Candy canes were invented back in the 17th century as little sugar sticks meant to appease whiny children. Of course, it worked, because the standards for candy were lower back then (anyone who has tried Turkish Delight knows what I mean). Thus, the bland white sugar sticks caught on. Of course, somebody decided to Christmatize them by bending them into the shape of a shepherd’s crook, and then some enterprising barber coated them in red stripes to subtly influence kids to get a haircut. (One of those statements is probably not true.)

Unfortunately, candy canes are still around, and worse yet, they are terrible. Here are seven reasons why candy canes are the worst candy ever.

1. The shrink wrap.

Apparently, international law requires that every candy cane come wrapped in a tight plastic sheath that is impossible to unravel. It must be slowly and painfully peeled away, gradually bunching up at the crook of the cane in a sticky mash.

2. The awkward shape.

I know it’s supposed to be shaped like a shepherd’s staff and all. That’s real cute. But how are you supposed to fit one of the dang things in your mouth? Even the little candy canes barely fit. You’re left sucking interminably on one end while the other end pokes out of your mouth, ready to gouge your kid brother in the eye.

3. The hard peppermint candy.

“Hard candy” is an oxymoron. The whole point of candy is instant gratification; candy is meant to spike the blood sugar levels of small children until they reach a near-catatonic state. Hard “candy,” though, takes a long time to break down in the mouth, producing a controlled release of sucrose. Lame! Also, peppermint is a really boring flavor. (At least it’s not artificial-banana flavored; such a candy cane would truly be the worst candy imaginable.)

4. The sharp stabby tips.

As your saliva corrodes the peppermint stick, the end of the stick narrows into a hard, sharp point. What kind of sicko offers kids a little spear to stab themselves in the cheek? What if a little girl falls on her face and the candy spear stabs her in the uvula? Who pays the bills for that?

5. The shiny red lipstick.

As you patiently suck away on a boring barbershop-striped peppermint stick, you happen to glance into a mirror—and recoil in horror. The red stripes have peeled off the candy cane and slathered themselves in a bright cherry smear across your lips. Also, you are a man, and this is totally embarrassing.

6. The fragile crook.

If the candy cane hasn’t broken before you shove it in your mouth, it certainly will in the eating process. In fact, some candy canes are totally impractical to eat unless broken. Which is stupid.

7. The ability to reproduce.

Candy canes multiply like rabbits. By the time Christmas has passed, they are found everywhere, from drug store clearance aisles to dining room candy jars. No one wants to finish them off. You can’t even give them away as gifts. They are like the candy version of zucchini. So they lie dormant, getting old and stale until next Christmas, when they are trotted out once again, to the everlasting shame of Western society.

2
Then if we whine, look pale,
And tell our tale,
Men are in pain
For us again;
So, neither speaking doth become
The lover’s state, nor being dumb.

3
When this I do descry,
Then thus think I:
Love is the fart
Of every heart;
It pains a man when ’tis kept close,
And others doth offend when ’tis let loose.

—Sir John Suckling, 1609–1642

Dave Nannery (aka Banannery)
Your favorite blogger and a master of logic and theology.  Loves all of God’s creatures and was kind to a kitten once.  Wildly successful and loved by all the village folk.

Kyle Borg (aka Jr. Cheeseborger)
A friend, a brother of my former roommate, a rabid Presbyterian and seminarian, and a proprietor of the super-secret Synod of Saints blog devoted to dead theologians and infant baptism.

I encourage you to read our arguments and vote on who won!  (I.e. yours truly.)

Resolved:  Baptists are better than Presbyterians.

I argued for the affirmative (correct) position, while Jr. Cheeseborger argued for the negative (wrong) position.

Hey Jr. Cheeseborger, I was just thinking today about what the main difference is between Baptists and Presbyterians, and as it turns out, the main difference is that Baptists are better. Your thoughts?

If by better you mean Baptists ignore the sound exegesis of covenant theology, ignore historical Christianity, and practically hate children, then yes, you’re correct. But I would say it all hinges on how you define “better.”

Your accusations fall on deaf ears because some of the soundest exegetes from historical Christianity have been Baptists. For example:

1. John the Baptist (duh)
2. Jesus (who loved children)
3. Peter
4. Paul
5. All the other apostles
6. Your mom

∴ QED

I think the only way you could counter my argument is if you inserted your own little three-dot pyramid.

I’ll take your Apostle(s) Paul, Peter, et al, John the Baptist, Jesus, and my mom and raise you Augustine, John Calvin, Francis Turretin, Herman Witsius, and Charles Hodge. HA!

Judging from the fact that you did not include a three-dot pyramid with your counter-argument, I can see that you have forfeited that point of the debate. Thus, after a brief celebration of victory, it is time for me to launch into my second logically airtight argument. Its premises are indisputable:

• Premise 1: Most people believe that Dunkin’ Donuts is good.
• Premise 2: Presbyterians believe that dunkin’ babies is good.
• Conclusion 1: Presbyterians believe babies are donuts.
• Premise 3: Most people eat donuts for breakfast.
• Conclusion 2: Presbyterians eat babies for breakfast.
• Premise 4: Baptists don’t eat babies for breakfast.
• Premise 5: People who don’t eat babies for breakfast are better than people who do eat babies for breakfast.
• Conclusion 3: Baptists are better than Presbyterians.

∴ QED

Premise two is disputable since it was only Luther who thought babies should be dunked, and last I checked he wasn’t Presbyterian. Not to mention I do not share your Aristotlian presuppositions, thus rendering any logical syllogism you can throw my way pretty useless. Logic is too circular—after all, what’s the logical syllogism to prove that logic is logical (go ahead and try to process that Baptist).
∴ QED
PS: Why do you hate children?

Jr. Cheeseborger, allow me to dismantle your counter-argument point-by-point. You’re welcome.

1. Regarding Luther: He’s dead, ergo your argument is irrelevant.
2. Regarding Aristotle: See point 1.
3. Regarding logic: Logic is not circular; it is pyramidal. Have you learned nothing from the three-dot pyramid? You are wielding its powers in ignorance, as a child wields his father’s gun.
4. Regarding children: If I really hated children, I would bring them in front of the church to splash water in their faces for no reason.
5. Regarding white space between paragraphs: You need it.

∴ QED

You can surrender at any time. There is no shame in giving up the debate!

Why do you hate children?

.

YOUR MOM is circular.

Oooooooh, debate over! You lose!

Good thing we caught it in time!

Enjoy Meditation #15 from The Book of Happiness:  The Heart.