Every year, just like clockwork, when June rolls around, there is a feeding frenzy among manufacturers of consumer goods to slap a rainbow on their merchandise to celebrate (sellabrate?) LGBTQ Pride.
Some of these gay-targeted products include beer, vodka, shoes, watches, soap, LEGO characters, cosmetics, pillows, razors, Band-Aids, eyewear… basically everything on my Walmart shopping list. Even Mickey Mouse drops his traditionally red drawers in June and changes into a pair of rainbow culottes.
And why not? We homos make up a highly desirable demographic that spends an estimated $20 million annually, and that’s just in the United States. Companies would be crazy not to jump on that big gay gravy train. Everyone knows you can’t spell PRIDE without PR.
As if awakened like some odd cicada-like cycle, evangelical opponents to equality have rushed to condemn Kellogg and all other prideful product purveyors.
Just like it has done in previous years, Kellogg announced the release of a special Pride Month cereal called “Together with Pride.” All June long, equality-minded folks regardless of their sexuality or gender can wake up to rainbow-colored cereal hearts covered in edible glitter. It’s like a Pride Parade for your mouth.
On cue, LGBTQ Nation reports that The Ruth Institute, an anti-LGBTQ hate group led by longtime marriage equality opponent Jennifer Roback Morse, called the cereal another product of “a radical agenda that targets children and families.”
“Not only are they pushing the LGBTQ agenda, they’re directly subsidizing it,” Morse yammered on, mocking Kellogg for supposedly “virtue-signaling to the cultural elite and everyone who buys in to its agenda. They’re saying ‘We’re nice guys. We love everyone. Buy our product.’ Apologies to Tony the Tiger, but ‘Grrrreat!’ it’s not.”
I’ve got news for you, Ms. Morse: The LGBTQ community took control of the cereal industry a long, long time ago. Surely you heard of the ungodly, long-term relationship lesbians have had with granola. I defy you to stroll into a Brandi Carlile concert and yell “I need granola!” to no one in particular. Immediately, you’ll be deafened by the sound of thousands of Jantzen backpacks simultaneously unzipping, with thousands of lesbians whipping out a Ziploc bag full of blended oats, nuts, raisins and self-sufficiency.
The first LGBTQ battle in the war to control the breakfast cereal market came way back in 1959 when Kellogg’s introduced the somewhat derisively named Fruit Loops to an unsuspecting populace. At that time the sweet, floating O’s were limited to hues of red, orange and yellow. Following a name change to Froot Loops, an expanded variety of blue, purple and green loops were added in the 1990s — a veritable floating rainbow flag in a bowl. No word yet regarding if or when black, brown, white, pink and sky blue will join the increasingly inclusive mix.
Soon a host of other queer-inspired cereals lined the grocery store aisles. Post’s Fruity Pebbles attempted to compete with Froot Loops, but no self-righteous naysayers gave a Bam. General Mills’ Lucky Charms featured a twinky little Leprechaun in pumps who spent a lot of time chasing a rainbow.
In 2003, Kellogg even tried to market a cereal named Bart Simpson’s Eat My Shorts cereal, a “frosted golden syrup flavored multi-grain” morsel literally shaped like a little boy’s shorts. You probably never heard of this breakfast aberration because it’s distribution was limited to the United Kingdom, where British evangelicals are seemingly too polite to call the most important meal of the day an apostasy.
Quaker Oats takes pandering to the LGBTQ community to stratospheric heights. Cap’n Crunch appealed to uniform queens. Their short-lived Halfsies obviously appealed to the bisexual community. Vanilla Life was a blatant attempt to entice the no-kink set. Remember Quisps? Quaker claimed the confection was space-alien based, but in reality it was a wink and a nod to that beloved gay raconteur, Quentin.
I can’t explain why, but Malt-O-Meal’s Maple & Brown Sugar Mini Spooners sounds a little bit dirty. But not as dirty as General Mills’ Mr. Wonderfull’s Surprize.
Bottom line (and I mean that literally), any commercial organization worth its salt and high-fructose corn syrup knows it is a smart financial move to cuddle up to the LGBTQ community, especially in June. If Ms. Morse is as savvy as they are, she’ll swallow her Pride and dive into a big bowl of Trix. Turns out, they’re not just for kids.
Wishing all a safe and happy Pride Month!