By Anna Joranger

Any Macalester student knows the thrill that comes with entering the cafeteria and seeing one’s favorite dish available for consumption. More specifically, most of us find the appearance of a splendid dessert option nothing less than euphoric. One day I was greeted by sleek slices of cheesecake lined up behind the glass. Another time it was pumpkin pie. Not to mention the Oreo crumbs that make my heart jump every time they materialize beside the ice cream machine.

As someone who understands the delight of these events, I could not possibly wish for it to be taken away from anyone. Nevertheless, there are some foods so nasty I can’t understand how anyone would get such pleasure out of them.

Upon arriving at Café Mac for dinner a few days ago, I took my usual quick overview of the items available to me. I wandered to the dessert area to take note of anything particularly enticing. What did I see? Jell-O.

My friends began to yip with joy. It was exclaimed that Jell-O was the food of the gods, the pinnacle of culinary achievements. All I saw was pastel-colored gloop adorned with sad-looking fruit bits and jiggling around in plastic containers.

That’s the thing I can’t get past about Jell-O—it jiggles. How can one possibly want to fill up their stomach not only with ground up cow parts (bones, sinews, etc.) soaked with artificial everything, but with ones that jiggle?
When I brought this up over dinner, my friends gaped at me in awe, amazed that anyone was capable of not liking Jell-O. I feel convinced, however, that I am not the only person who holds this view. When I catch a glimpse of the disgusting not-quite-orange stuff lolling around in a little carton and glorifying in its ridiculous dessert status, I cannot believe that I am alone in the world.

I don’t pretend that I have any rational basis for despising Jell-O (apart from its questionable beginnings, but that can be said about practically any food). I also don’t expect an army to form for the sake of supporting my cause. I am probably in the minority here. Perhaps the best I can hope for is a heightened tolerance between Jell-O lovers and Jell-O haters. The next time glutinous gunk replaces cheesecake in the dessert line (good lord, why?), just let me gag in peace.