All candies matter: The case for candy corn

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Art by Rachel Nearis

CAROLINE ENOS, Staff Writer, Editor

October is a time when many of my fellow scaredy cats are plagued by relentless ads for scary movies, gory Halloween costumes, and this year, reports of sporadic clown attacks. The only thing that is keeping us sane during this season of digestive distress is the glorious comfort of candy corn.

Candy corn is the epitome of beauty. It’s simplistic design and angelic taste has given generations of candy lovers faith in an otherwise bleak, disparaging world.

To taste the sweetness of candy corn is to be blessed by Willy Wonka himself. Even he would agree the sugary goodness that dances on your taste buds is an unmatched, wonderful sensation.

Anyone who would say otherwise needs to oompa loompa doompadee-leave.

Pumpkin candy corn is also an underappreciated gift to mankind. It’s gourd inspired design transports all who eat it into a world of pumpkin patch and hayride nostalgia. Anything that can bring me back to the glory days of my youth while simultaneously tasting like an itty bitty parcel of heaven is okay in my book.

I love candy corn so much that if criminals held a gun to my head and told me to eat an entire bowl of candy corn, I’d graciously shake their hands and offer them a few pieces.

So if you think candy corn is a “disgrace to all candies,” you may need to reevaluate your life choices.