If you've seen the cover of our holiday issue or followed our 25 Days of Cookies, you know this: We're big cookie fans, and this time of year occasions many consecutive weeks of unrepentant cookie-eating. It's a beautiful thing—most of the time. But every now and again, it doesn't hurt to look at the darker side of desserts, and for a sound moral lesson, we turn to history's most famous (and infamous) glutton: Cookie Monster.
Oh, sure, he seems innocuous enough. He's just a big blob of fur who loves cookies, right? Think again. Cookie Monster is a living, breathing cautionary tale. He never even learned the difference between "I" and "me," because he was too busy feeding his addiction. Let's delve into his complex, heartbreaking past, shall we?
Here's how little we know about the "real" Cookie Monster: He was born under a different name. In 1966, he came into this world as the "Wheel Stealer," and his insatiable appetite favored not cookies but cheese-flavored wheels. (Here you can also see how decades of cookie-munching have worn down his once fearsome incisors.) It makes you wonder: what else is Cookie Monster hiding from us? The Cookie Monster birther movement intends to find out.
In another rare glimpse at Cookie Monster's past, witness this 1967 outing—he eats an entire coffeemaker piece by piece and suffers the gruesome consequences. Already, we see his trademark features emerging: the ravenous, limitless hunger; the complete disregard for the wellbeing of anyone other than himself; the inability to defer pleasures that might be experienced now. This monster has trouble written all over him.
It wasn't long before Cookie Monster discovered the thing that animated him, his raison d'être, the fount of his conflicted identity: the cookie. As is so often the case, the problem began at home. Cookie Monster's first encounter with that glorious, pulse-pounding sugar rush came when his own mother gave him some cookies. In this remembrance, he claims that he believes his original name was "Sid"—another bald-faced lie, as we've already seen his Wheel Stealer days.
Things weren't any better with his father, either. This uncut footage from the Monster household shows Monster père to be a total milquetoast, a pushover; he tries to teach his son a thing or two about plumbing and conserving energy, but the two of them end up binging on cookies together. For shame. Warning: this one isn't for the faint of heart.
Things were bad at home, but school offered no reprieve. Cookie Monster often faced the derision of his peers, which surely contributed to his overeating. In this video, watch as Cookie Monster unleashes a torrent of invective from Kermit, who calls him a "dumb, stupid, rotten monster." Kermit claims he's just teaching us a lesson about anger, but look who suffers so that we might learn: Cookie Monster.
As Cookie Monster entered adolescence, what had once been charming foibles hardened into disturbing habits. Here, for instance, we see that he was known to go three and a half weeks without brushing his teeth. He couldn't count to 3. He was also clearly suffering from pica, a disease in which one has cravings for inedible objects. He devoured a pickup truck simply because there were no cookies around.
By 1971, Cookie Monster had turned his debility into an endearing shtick, and audiences were lapping it up. Here's the earth-shattering debut of "C Is for Cookie," the catchy mnemonic ditty that would become his hallmark. Little did the cheering crowds know that behind the scenes, Cookie Monster couldn't get a grip on his habit; his cookie lust was spiraling out of control, and as he accrued fame and wealth, he saw no reason to stop eating.
Soon, his shocking blood-sugar levels induced a kind of dementia; Cookie Monster saw cookies wherever he looked. He found himself concocting elaborate fantasies in which he could eat everything he saw. As evidenced below, the mere sight of the moon would inspire a sickening flight of fancy. People began to wonder: was everything OK?
In 2005, as public support waned and his enablers began to abandon him, Cookie Monster tried to sway opinion by proving that he was a creature of restraint and self-discipline. But far from improving his lot, "A Cookie Is a Sometime Food" sparked controversy around the world. How could such an inveterate addict dare to teach temperance? Would a "Veggie Monster" soon take Cookie Monster's place? After so many years of unapologetic gluttony, Cookie Monster's change of heart felt like nothing more than a stunt.
It seemed like a last-ditch effort to salvage his reputation, but in fact Cookie Monster had been peddling such propaganda for decades. For proof of his knowing self-promotional streak, look no further than this early public service announcement, in which he professes a love for meat, fish, vegetables, fruit, and milk. It's a believable ruse—until he orders an entire dump truck full of cookies.
And so we come to the end. With no hope of rehabilitating his besmirched public image, Cookie Monster has turned to crass, unsophisticated parodies, cashing in on his name in a shameless bid for our sympathy. (It's like he's latching onto bigger names and using their star power to generate attention for himself—we don't know anyone who'd sink to such lows.) In 2010, he made a bid to host *Saturday Night Live—*and failed. In 2012, he aped Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe" in "Share It Maybe," inviting everyone in sight to share their cookies with him; Jepsen, perhaps pitying the depths of his addiction, declined to take him to court. Now he's at it again with "Lord of the Crumbs," a Lord of the Rings parody in which he preaches the virtues of delayed gratification. Nice try, Cookie Monster. We all know you've been sneaking cookies in your trailer between takes. But it's the holidays, and in a spirit of peace and harmony, we're going to say: We love you just the way you are.