(more Tuna Cupcake nonsense)

Chocolate Overload. What can I say? What can you possibly say about a chocolate bar that has entitled itself thus? There isn’t really any wiggle room here. There isn’t space for technicalities or loopholes. The verdict has been passed and there will be no appeal. Chocolate Overload is full of chocolate. It is overloaded with chocolate. If there were more chocolate, it would achieve some sort of transcendent status, some sort of meta-chocolate state, where chocolate itself actually ceases to have meaning. Did I mention it has chocolate?

Do you like chocolate? If you are reading a review about a Kit Kat I suspect that you do. Would you like to eat chocolate? Again I feel can safely answer yes. Would you like to eat highly condensed chocolate, with varying textures—layers of different sorts of chocolate, but ultimately just basically a whole fuckload of chocolate? What I’m basically trying to say is that writing a review about the Chocolate Overload Kit Kat is like writing a review about Jesus. Either you feel it or you don’t. If you follow a different sort of faith—say, you believe that the messiah is embodied by strawberry, or caramel—there is simply not anything for you here.

This is good, actually, because it leaves me a bit of room to call Nestle out on their whole Kit Kat agenda. Last time I wrote jokingly about dubious Kit Kat flavours, but as it turns out I was not far off from the truth. Research has revealed varieties that are not merely amusing, but will actually make you question your reality: Rock salt? Beans? Corn?

You might think that Nestle has a truly disturbing corporate culture if it thinks these are roads worth going down: a pit of imbred insanity, sisters marrying each other and adopting a baked potato to raise as a child, etc. But the real punchline is that all these esoteric flavours taste exactly the same. There is a joke, here, and the joke is on all of us—we, who believed in the multifarious possibilities of an unbridled palette. Somewhere, a supercomputer robot designed to crush dreams is sitting in a corner office and laughing maniacally.

Yes, I am calling you out Nestle. The time has come to answer for your crimes. Bonbons at dawn.

This entry was posted on Thursday, February 5th, 2009 at 10:11 am and is filed under Life. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.