Museum Lable for a Single Fun-sized Mars® Bar
Slapped over the unimaginative packaging is the M-A-R-S wordmark scribbled in red along with a cheesy
Microsoft-word-art gold outline effect, set against a pitch-black background. It speaks to all that has happened
in the age of space exploration and depicts a pessimistic future of space traveling.
The typeface, free from any sense of identity or character, lacks ambition, romance, or indeed any emotion related to the age-old fascination we human had towards the sky above us; instead, it’s more fitting to the decades the USA and the Soviet Union spent on their space race. Just like the black background upon which the type sits, space is not for science, faith, religion, or curiosity; space is a territory to conquer, an item to brand, an object to claim as one’s own. Space, along with everything that is in it from the moon to mars, is just another surface to set foot upon and to stick our flag into.
In 2016, mars-bars began to include micro-plastics as a key ingredient (a broken machine cover lead to a recall of mars from 55 countries in 2016), just like our fish, our drinking water, and our ecosystem. Bearing the name of the nearest planet with a possibility of life, the fun-sized candy downplays the severity of the problems we’ve created for ourselves and suggests Mars as the easy way out. Mars is merely a back-up plan, the next ‘earth’, a home we have to make ready for ourselves when this one inevitably melts. The mars-bar, along with the box of milky-ways sitting to its left and the moon-pies to its right, is the fun-sized story packaged in the sad reality of humanity.