With Mr. T on his deathbed, Urkel's recent cancellation by CBS and Pac Man fever in remission around the nation, things look dim for the novelty cereal industry. The days of taking a third-rate star and slapping his image on a box filled with sugar-covered oat crumbs, marshmallows and chocolate-colored bits have apparently passed.

Nothing tastes better than a celebrity-endorsed breakfast feast, but today's children will never know that. You would think that someone would at least release Spice Krispies and Leonardo DiCapri-O's, but somehow global exploitation of the fleetingly famous no longer starts with a balanced breakfast.

Even the non-celebrity part of the breakfast cereal market has turned away from sugar and marshmallow. Because of America's health food hysteria, products that contain exactly the same ingredients must now have new, non-threatening images.

Super Sugar Crisp became Super Golden Crisp, which forced Sugar Bear to take the name Super Golden Bear. Nothing changed, except the bear went from a smooth, Barry White kind of fellow to a fake cool Smokey knockoff. The stuff still has more sugar than Pixie Sticks, but the bear's less hip, so it's better for your kids.

Sugar Smacks became Honey Smacks, but honey sounds too much like sugar, so they eventually settled on just plain Smacks. That leaves us with a cereal called Smacks endorsed by a hyperactive, incoherent, psychedelic frog named Dig 'Em. Same sugar-saturated content, but now with enhanced drug imagery.

Trix kept its rabbit (despite eerie similarities to the Quik bunny), but the cereal went from technicolored balls to vague fruit shapes. Does anyone believe that the colors of Trix actually correspond with fruits?

Giving yellow Trix a bananaesque look does not make it taste any different than purple or green Trix. There's a reason they spell Froot Loops with the "oo." At best, "fruit" children's cereals suggest fruitiness. Claiming they have an actual relationship with the fruit in question borders on fraud.

Thankfully, despite the lack of celebrity approval, some cereals have resisted changes. Lucky Charms continues its climb toward becoming the first all-marshmallow cereal, and it retains its paranoid leprechaun spokesperson. Cookie Crisp still pretends it tastes like cookies, and FrankenBerry, BooBerry and Count Chocula still come in colors foreign to any other food product.

Sugary cereals taste better. The same product stamped with the likeness of a famous person tastes even better. Throw in some marshmallows, covered in chocolate and dusted with sugar, and add a healthy dose of some other kind of marshmallow. Work some gummy bears in and serve the entire thing in a bowl of whipped cream. That's a decent breakfast, but add David Hasselhoff's face, and we're talking a whole new morning.