Had these not been discontinued after the Depression?
Had these not been discontinued after the Depression?
T here you are at the bakery, perusing those delicious dough rings that call to you like body-positive sirens through the sneeze and spittle glass. Burnished sugar buns, catching the light just so, line the display in marshaled rows. As the baker assembles an assortment, you imagine slow-dancing with them out to your car, carefully sneaking them past jealous receptionists at work, and bursting into a loathsome and boring meeting — winning the admiration of your coworkers as you deliver this king’s ransom of carbohydrates.
With awe and mumbled words about a diet that can wait for another day, everyone claims their prize, walking away with a cruller, pink-frosted, or custard-filled daintily balanced in their hands. You look down and realize there is but one left. Hmm. Your fore-teeth make an exploratory foray into that deep-fried goodness, but lo! What is this red ooze dripping forth onto your lap? A jelly doughnut? Had these not been discontinued after the Depression? This filling of thinly disguised rats’ guts has ruined your day, and I do not blame you a bit. Jelly-filled doughnuts threaten every box of their brethren, obscene and incompatible with the 21st century. They must be banned.
The first issue with the JFD (jelly-filled doughnut) is that it is — by dint of its unassuming form — a threat to any box of two dozen doughnuts. To avoid inadvertently choosing one, they of the trembling fingers will avoid any filled doughnut whatsoever. This discrimination leads to the prejudicial exclusion of perfectly acceptable Pershings, custards, and creams. To eradicate intolerance for these filled fellows, vendors should eliminate the chance of a JFD not just from one box of miscellaneous doughnuts but from all displays. The specter of a JFD need not haunt the thoughts of the selectors and push them subconsciously towards shape discrimination.
Second is the obscene nature of the JFD, for those cursed with having picked one. Gelatinous filling with all of that artificial coloring is an ever-present menace to your pair of pants or favorite skirt. It is common for an unsuspecting eater — after getting a mouthful of JFD — to spew it forth in an attempt to rid their body of the objectionable toxin. Unfortunately for both onlooker and consumer, jelly shrapnel will have spattered the garb of anyone within five meters.
Business owners and university presidents should be aware of the threat one JFD poses to a high-stakes meeting or fundraising event. Research from the Harvard University School of Economics and Doughnut Distribution indicates a JFD event can negatively impact profits or enrollment by as much as 63 percent. Whether in industry or personal life, I pray you comprehend what these pestilential pods of putridity can do to your life and loved ones.
The JFD’s only appropriate use is for discovering madness and a propensity for totalitarianism. It is rumored that Hitler, Stalin, Pinochet, Mao, and Woodrow Wilson all enjoyed JFDs daily . . . a detail unsubstantiated by historical records but otherwise valid. If you were to observe someone consuming a JFD intentionally in public, I would urge you to contact the FBI.
This modest benefit of JFDs does not justify the cost of their existence. However, we in the United States are allowed great liberty in deciding how we live and what we choose to consume. If an outright ban is too “nanny state” for you, I would humbly suggest we place JFDs in the same “sin tax” category as alcohol and cigarettes. Only those truly determined to sully boardroom breakfasts would continue to bake and buy them.