Submitted by Jeremy (not verified) on Fri, 2006-11-24 17:51.
It pissed me off royally last night when Karalyn and I, lolling on the couch stuffed to the gullet like the turkey we’d just consumed in overwhelming amounts, flipped on the television to catch the news for the day, only to find exhortation after suboptimal message after stilted anchor joking about buying things on Friday.
We got the hot shopping list (this is news?), the man-on-the-street report from the shopping mall opening at midnight, and even the “Shopper’s Delight” tag thrown into the weather forecast. All I could see were lines drawn from parent company to sister company to marketing partner.
I suppose I should have been thankful to enjoy the action of fluffy capitalism betwixt the reports of a large fire in Manhattan, a stupid publicity stunt of a scholarship by some Campus Republicans, and the unexplained imagery of death and carnage in Iraq. It offered a sorely-needed escape from an already twisted realism.
On the consumer imprint tip, I imagine I’m very accidentally not much of a consumerist. The vast majority of my income buys me the necessities: home, food, electricity. I would say my only regular, non-necessity spending boils down to alcohol, DSL, NetFlix and my cellular access (provided on a three year old phone). In the last six months, everything outside of that has come down to about six CDs (of which I get a ton free working in the music industry), four books, and various maintenance needs for my bicycle.
This is all rather accidental. I get excited by gadgets and clothes, but I usually just find myself thinking I can spend that money on something else when I’m in the store. I’ve determined to buy a new cellular phone at least three times a year for the last two years, but the Sprint Store is perhaps the most egregious golden cow of consumerism. Pushy salespeople, planned obsolescence, locked-in contracts, and large gatherings of people who appear to me like their money would be better spent on debt and education for their large broods. It gets so frustrating and depressing that I walk out of the store each time.
It pissed me off royally
It pissed me off royally last night when Karalyn and I, lolling on the couch stuffed to the gullet like the turkey we’d just consumed in overwhelming amounts, flipped on the television to catch the news for the day, only to find exhortation after suboptimal message after stilted anchor joking about buying things on Friday.
We got the hot shopping list (this is news?), the man-on-the-street report from the shopping mall opening at midnight, and even the “Shopper’s Delight” tag thrown into the weather forecast. All I could see were lines drawn from parent company to sister company to marketing partner.
I suppose I should have been thankful to enjoy the action of fluffy capitalism betwixt the reports of a large fire in Manhattan, a stupid publicity stunt of a scholarship by some Campus Republicans, and the unexplained imagery of death and carnage in Iraq. It offered a sorely-needed escape from an already twisted realism.
On the consumer imprint tip, I imagine I’m very accidentally not much of a consumerist. The vast majority of my income buys me the necessities: home, food, electricity. I would say my only regular, non-necessity spending boils down to alcohol, DSL, NetFlix and my cellular access (provided on a three year old phone). In the last six months, everything outside of that has come down to about six CDs (of which I get a ton free working in the music industry), four books, and various maintenance needs for my bicycle.
This is all rather accidental. I get excited by gadgets and clothes, but I usually just find myself thinking I can spend that money on something else when I’m in the store. I’ve determined to buy a new cellular phone at least three times a year for the last two years, but the Sprint Store is perhaps the most egregious golden cow of consumerism. Pushy salespeople, planned obsolescence, locked-in contracts, and large gatherings of people who appear to me like their money would be better spent on debt and education for their large broods. It gets so frustrating and depressing that I walk out of the store each time.