Out of Kilter presents: In a perfect world black licorice would be illegal, served only in purgatory
By Ken Carpenter
March 7, 2004
I have a co-worker whose undying hatred of raisins borders on the psychotic. Just the sight of an innocent little, anatomically correct raisin man on his desk is enough to turn him green. Naturally yours truly got the blame, like I have a monopoly on the demented-thought market. Sheesh.
Guilty or not, I was the recipient of an ill-mannered promise of retribution should Ronny Raisin rear his ugly head again. The wretch swore to gobble black licorice and blow his moist, hateful breath in my face until I puke. That would take about two seconds, for there is no sicker substance on earth than black licorice.
I was a mere babe in the woods when I first realized that there was one thing in the world more horrid than any other. Munchers of it could blow rancid gusts from their mouth with the ability to inspire dry heaves from 100 paces, even as they peeled baked enamel from unluckily located walls.
Eaters of the Dead, I call them, for their black teeth and foul halitosis bring to mind grave-robbing cannibals. I know they can’t help it, the poor souls, they just happen to be born without fully developed taste buds. Just because I pity them does not mean I have to tolerate them through, for nothing will make me disappear faster than a whiff of black licorice.
Luckily a human’s sense of taste and smell diminish with time, so I can no longer detect The Black from farther away than a city block. This is the same schnozz that must be crammed right into a rose to pick up its romantic emanations.
The odd thing is, the vast majority of licorice candy is not even flavored with licorice root, but with the hideous spice anise. Licorice is a far ranging and uncontrollable weed growing in the Mideast and Southern Europe, and while it is heavily cultivated most of the nasty paste is used in tobacco manufacture, stout beer and medicinal products.
In matters little where the rotten candy gets its flavor. The fact remains its use should be restricted to private locations where innocent bystanders do not have to worry about unwittingly partaking of any of its odorous molecules.
Taste is 75% smell, so whether you like it or not, if you smell something, your taste buds kick in. I advise you to forget that tidbit as soon as possible. It is not something you want to dwell on for too long. As much as I hate to admit it, there could be some less appetizing odors than black licorice out there, and you do not want your taste buds involved with such things.
My traitorous brain can’t get rid of the image of a row of raisin men, cleverly disguised as tiny chocolate bunnies. Hummmm, I wonder if it would be worth the risk?
Not a chance. Any raisinous attacks by me would only place me in danger of a potential fate worse than death.
Asphyxiation by licorice fumes.