by Lore Sjöberg

Marshmallow Blasted Froot Loops
Eat as much sugared cereal as I have and you start to be able to imagine the taste of the latest day-glo breakfast transgression without even breaking the seal. Take, for instance, Marshmallow Blasted Froot Loops. "Blasted" appears in this case to be a synonym for "accompanied," because it's just Froot Loops with marshmallows. And it tastes, paradigm-shatteringly enough, like Froot Loops would if you added marshmallows. The whole "Blasted" thing is just a desperate adjective pasted on a pretty dull concept. C+

Rice Krispies
Requiring your cereal to converse with you is -- how shall I put this delicately? -- so tragically pathetic as to make Sally Struthers look like an Ayn Rand heroine by comparison. But then, it has elves on the box, so what would you expect? It tries to look like a kids' cereal, but it's beige and basically unsweetened, so the noise gimmick and the elves are the only thing keeping it from getting shelved next to the eight different cereals with "bran" in the title. If you're not of age to provide your own breakfast and your parent or guardian won't get you the sweet stuff, it's not a bad compromise. C+

Smacks
Does this sound good? If you were a cereal magnate and one of your creatives came up to you and said "I've got a great idea for a cereal. It's named after drugs and it's got a frog on the box," don't you think you'd put him down to be culled in the next downsizing? "Smacks" itself is actually a more parentally-acceptable version of the original name: "Satan Worship Smacks." It got shortened in the same anti-Satanist trend that changed the labels of "Satan Crisp" and "Satan Frosted Flakes." Silly, really. C-

Strawberry Shortcake Cereal
This is a defunct cereal, dead as the line of deformed, ill-smelling dolls that inspired it. And I'm mature enough to be able to admit that I loved it. Hey, bite me. It could have been called "Advanced Leprosy Puffs" and I still would have loved it, because strawberry-flavored cereal is a fine idea and it's a pity you can't get it today. Can you blame me because I was able to see past the cloying, over-merchandised evil on the box and appreciate the cereal within? Yeah, your mom. B+

Oops! All Berries
I guess it's supposed to be charming to pretend that this cereal was invented by accident, like potato chips, penicillin, and the Church of Latter-Day Saints, but frankly the lack of quality control over on Crunchberry Island is a little disquieting. Who's to say that the next box won't be labelled "Gosh Darn It! Discarded Turkey Parts"? Commercial fantasias aside, though, they're pretty darn yummy. In the long run, you really need the Cap'n Crunch to balance your ch'i, but as an occasional distraction it's pretty good. B+