Here’s something I never thought I’d say: Baby Shark the song is infinitely more interesting than Baby Shark Cereal.
I’ll admit, I have an ongoing aural embargo against the tune. My grubby brain is nematodally susceptible to earworms, so out of fear for my undisturbed dreamscapes, I’ve not only never listened to Baby Shark, but I’ve also never taken time to appreciate the sheer breadth and insanity of the infant man-eater’s history.
I might sound dumb for not knowing this, but apparently Baby Shark is originally a campfire chant dating back hundred of years, if not more, from a time where” YouTubers” were in the business of potatoes. The original version, however, is far more violent than the brine-washed version popular amongst children. Many versions involve a swimmer who not only loses an arm to a hungry sharkling, but a leg and sometimes a blood-gushing head, too. Other variants involve grueling and unsuccessful attempts at resuscitation, as well as philosophical inquiries on whether shark victims go to heaven, and what kind of god would continue to spawn such deceptively cute sea demons.
Then there are ongoing copyright claims surrounding the song, controversial political affiliations, and cruel attempts by law enforcement to use the track for repelling homeless people.
This is all to say that it’s kind of a shame how a bizarro slice of life like Baby Shark got such a soul-deadening cereal. If you read my Birthday Cake Froot Loops review, you know that not only did I voice a searing distaste for lazy sugar ring cereals, but I also spewed so much linguistic vitriol that it’d probably be bad for my blood pressure to do it again.
But does Baby Shark Cereal really deserve the same hate as Toucan Sam’s pathetic chemical droppings? And when I’m finished eating it, will it go to heaven? These are the questions I was, with great pains, born to answer. Continue reading