Pandora’s Jelly Jar

I have a serious problem, I am addicted to eating. I just cannot seem to stop. I suppose it is understandable, I come from a long line of eaters. We aren’t just your average eaters either, we are semi-professional quality. You can actually hear the whimpering when we approach the buffet line.

I’ve heard that Erasmus, the 16th century philosopher, got it wrong. Pandora didn’t open a box, she opened a storage jar. This makes sense to me, though it begs the question was it a pickle jar or a jelly jar? While Pandora’s Pickle Jar does seem daunting, I personally think that it was a jelly jar.

Can’t you just see the scene when Pandora popped the seal on that jar? First, two giant purple hands squeeze forth from the orifice. Next an ugly, bibulous head pops forth. Quickly after, the enormous remaining bulk oozes from the opening and the beast heaves itself upright. The jelly jar juggernaut slogs forth and in its wake from the jar bounces forth all sorts of delectable pieces of death. Lollipops bounce after donuts. Pizzas roll after cakes. Little ginger bread men charged out towards the unsuspecting world.

Perhaps, before Pandora did her dastardly deed, healthy food tasted irresistible. Spinach tasted like candy and even that vile weed, broccoli, was undeniably delicious. But is it possible that when the great tempter, the demon of gluttony, was released from Pandora’s Jelly Jar, he changed it all?

Is it so hard to believe, in our country rife with obesity and metabolic disorders, that something evil stalks us? Something that is twisted chases us with cake and baby-back ribs screaming, “Eat!” Later, it sneaks into our darkened rooms and whispers seductively about chocolate and cheesecake. In the dark night, the great purple beast bubbles laughter as it fattens us for slaughter.

One of my goals for this year is to slay Pandora’s spawn; to close the lid on the jelly jar demon forever. My strategy is to run it to death. I figure that the obese jelly-spawn is still chasing after me when I run, panting and dripping purple goo all the way. When I get back, my appetite is suppressed. Obviously, the beast is too tired to come after me. I can almost see him sprawled on the couch snoring loudly. He later tries to come back with a vengeance, but it is far easier to resist when I remember running my heart out earlier.

We each face and fight our personal demons. It takes rock hard perseverance and the hand of God to strengthen us. In the end, though, the battle is already won; we just have to persevere and stand to claim the victory.