People in tasting labs at food companies spend all their time and resources making my life difficult. They craft these bags of little triangular-shaped vices with the optimum amount of crunch and seasoning. This incarnation achieves a kind of low-brow perfection right down to its retro font and festive packaging. The orange and yellow offset each other nicely calling to mind the yellow of hard shell corn tacos and the orange the gooey meat and cheese entrails that will inevitably drip down your chin. All men are weak. Jason is a man. Therefore Jason is weak and is no match for the cravings that whisper his name when night has descended. The bright gleam you see reflected on the bag is my yearning.