If you were to ask a young child what his favorite cold cereal was, he would probably say, “Lucky Charms,” or “Frosted Flakes.” In part, the predictability of his response derives from the fact that he is young and is thus more vulnerable to the marketing ploys of a psychotic leprechaun and snowboarding tiger. On the other hand, though I’ve found no reliable statistics, it seems likely that asking adults the same question would supply you with as wide a variety of answers as there are cereals. This is because although adults, unlike children, are less interested in how “grrrrrreat” a cereal is than how nutritious and tasty it is. By these two standards, nutrition and taste, I put it to you that Kellog’s Raisin Bran is the best breakfast cereal in existence.
If, in our increasingly unlikely hypothetical scenario, you asked an adult who favors taste over nutrition why the taste of their favorite cereal is superior to that of all others, they would either be at a loss for words, or mutter something vague about sugar and artificial flavoring. And indeed they would be justified in being vague, because eating an unhealthy cereal just because it tastes good is completely absurd. This hypothetical adult would be experiencing mild cognitive dissonance; it would slowly be dawning on them that if you’re going to eat something unhealthy, why not eat something that tastes really good? Like ice cream or chocolate?
So eventually it would be conceded that taste is probably not the most important factor in determining the worth of a cereal. An argument would probably be put forth suggesting that a balance of taste and nutrition is desirable. Such foolish people are either drunk or have never experienced the trip commonly known as Raisin Bran.
Why It’s the Best
Raisin Bran dodges the entire question of “balancing” nutrition and taste. It has both. What its ingenious creators realized is that the taste of a cereal isn’t entirely dependent on its sweetness and sugar content. While sweetness is an important contributor to overall taste, a blend of tastes is essential to an optimal gustatory experience.
And so it is the double-barreled action from the raisins and the bran that makes the taste of Raisin Bran superior. The soaring flavors of the sweet raisins dance in harmony with the more grounded flavors of the starchy bran. This dance brings joyous life to every bite of one’s breakfast.
Indeed, once such a wonderful sensation has been revealed to your taste buds you might wonder if nutrition even matters. Perhaps it doesn’t to you, but it certainly did to the cereal engineers at Kellog’s. Naysayers like those at Calorie Count might give Raisin Bran outrageously low “Nutrition Grades” (B, in this case), but the only grievance they have is that Raisin Bran is “very high in sugar.” Well of course it is. Sugar is fantastic! It’s not even bad for you. Or rather, it’s not bad for you unless you consume so much that you don’t burn off the calories it supplies during the day. And if that’s the case, you’re probably a fatty anyway, so you don’t care.
“Two Scoops” Is Bullshit
A friend of mine did a statistical analysis on the amount of raisins in a box of Raisin Bran and found that if a the average box actually contains “two scoops of raisins,” then a scoop must be about ¼ of a cup. This is, as I see it, the greatest failing of Raisin Bran. Don’t get me wrong; they don’t need to add more raisins, they just need to think of a better marketing strategy. The current ratio of bran to raisins could only be more divine if it were 
The Thingness Of A Thing
February 20, 2009A hamburger -- the object of our scrutiny
In the vein of Martin Heidegger, it is my purpose today to discuss the thingness of a thing. In particular, I wish to examine hamburgerness and hamburgers. In this post I will attempt to enumerate the qualities and characterstics related to hamburgerness, and I will use these components to strictly define a “complete hamburger.”
To begin, let us consider first the properties an object must possess in order to be considered a hamburger at all. There are some obvious ones: extension in at least three physical dimensions (I say at least because there may exist 4-dimensional “hyperburgers” and so forth), it must have mass, and it must be made of meat. We can generalize these ideas by saying a hamburger is a patty of some meat.
This defintion includes the properties of extension and mass because we assume them inherent to the idea of meat. Indeed, this is quite a useful definition for a hamburger: we have not specified the degree to which a hamburger must be cooked, nor have we specified what sort of things ought to be eaten with a hamburger. Therefore, a hamburger is an independant entity that can come in many forms.
The Hamburgerness of a Hamburger
With our definition in hand. let us consider the properties that in some way modify or affect the hamburgerness of a hamburger. For example, if a hamburger is placed between two slices of bread or between two buns, we consider this to be more hamburgerly than a burger lacking these qualities.
Therefore we can declare that the presence of certain things improves the hamburgerness of a hamburger. Similarly, we can conclude that the absence of these things impairs the hamburgerness. I have come up with what I consider to be the complete set of properties which, when absent, impair the hamburgerness of a hamburger:
Note that the meat patty itself is excluded from this list. It is excluded because if a hamburger is lacking a patty then it is simply not a hamburger. Also note that we now have a full, rigorous definition of a “complete hamburger.” That is, a complete hamburger is a hamburger that possesses each of the elements of the above list.
If a hamburger is lacking, say, pickles, then I assert that it is less of a hamburger, or less complete than a hamburger which possesses pickles.
Superburgers
Imagine, if you will, a hamburger that possesses the additional property of having cheese on it. Such a hamburger (referred to colloquially as a “cheeseburger”) is something that I call a “superburger.” A superburger I define as follows:
A complete superburger
Clearly a cheeseburger is a superburger because a cheeseburger is just like a hamburger but better. However, a complete hamburger smothered with fish oil is not a superburger because the presence of the fish oil does not increase the hamburgerness—it impedes it.
Also worthy of mention is the incomplete-superburger hybrid. Such a hamburger is one that lacks an essential characteristic such as ketchup, but possesses a super characteristic like barbecue sauce.
Additional Considerations
So far we have considered only properties of hamburgers that are inherent to the hamburger itself: composition, mass, extension, &c. Let us now consider properties that may have their impetus in some source external to the hamburger. For example, let us consider the relative velocity of a hamburger.
Is a hamburger that is falling with respect to its observer any more or less of a burger than one that is stationary with respect to its observer? The obvious answer is no, but let’s not jump to conclusions. Certainly a moving hamburger still looks like a hamburger. Indeed, its inherent characteristics (mass, etc.) are in no way changed. But something else is changed: the edibility of the hamburger.
A bad, incomplete hamburger
But edibility is not on the list of inherent hamburger attributes! And it’s not that I have made an egregious omission. Rather, we have identified a new sort of characteristic. That is, there are some characteristics that are not inherent to a hamburger, and therefore not essential to its hamburgerness nor its completeness. These attributes which rely on the relationship and interaction the hamburger has with its observer, like relative velocity, we can call characteristics that are essential to the goodness of a hamburger.
For example, a well-cooked, complete hamburger that is stationary with respect to its observer is a good hamburger. One that is raw, smelly, and moving rapidly towards its observer is a bad hamburger.
A Final Question
What is the relationship, if any, between the completeness of a hamburger and the goodness of a hamburger? I will discuss this more fully in a later work, but my conclusion is as follows: