BBC: US chain smoker's widow gets $8m
A US jury has ordered tobacco giant Philip Morris to pay $8m (£5.6m) to the widow of a lifelong smoker who died of lung disease.
The jury in Florida decided in favour of Elaine Hess, whose husband Stuart died of lung cancer in 1997 at age 55. He had smoked for 40 years.
As much as I hate cigarettes and the people who produce them, I disagree with rulings of this nature. If you smoke yourself to death, it's your own fault.*
Information about the dangers of smoking are now so widely disseminated that only the most braindead (among them, not surprisingly, Rush Limbaugh) can doubt that smoking is one of the most unhealthy things you can do to your body.
No one forces you to start smoking. And once you're addicted, many methods of quitting are available, ranging from the chemical (nicotine patches) to the subconscious (hypnosis). Millions of people have gotten off cigarettes and stayed off them. It takes willpower to suffer through withdrawal, but that's the price you pay for getting hooked on something so manifestly stupid in the first place.
If smoking deaths can be blamed on the cigarette industry, then the same logic can be used to award lawsuits to obese people who, ignoring all personal accountability, blame the bloated state of their bodies on the fast food industry. Both industries use aggressive marketing, and cigarettes and junk food both have addictive properties, but if you choose to put crap into your body, you have only yourself to blame for the results.
So although I enjoy it when Phillip Morris or McDonald's loses money, I don't like that it's at the expense of properly assigning responsibility. If we blame obesity and lung cancer on unhealthful industries instead of the people who support those industries, we will view people as passive victims instead of active consumers who got exactly what they paid for.
*The subject of the lawsuit discussed here started smoking in the fifties, when cigarette companies still used flagrantly false advertising (4 out of 5 doctors prefer Camel!), and when no one appreciated the full extent of the damage tobacco wreaks on the body. So it should be noted that he and the others who started smoking back then may have a warranted complaint.
Showing posts with label Consumerism and Advertising. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Consumerism and Advertising. Show all posts
22 February 2009
16 August 2008
McAthletes Do Not Exist
It is a sick joke that McDonald's is an 'official sponsor' of the Olympic Games. Sponsoring the Olympics and promoting nationwide obesity should be mutually exclusive.
And as if bringing those disgusting arches into proximity with the Olympic rings isn't blasphemous enough, they made a commercial implying that Olympic hopefuls enjoy the "food" sold at McDonald's. Among the athletes featured in the spot are a female sprinter with washboard abs and a petite blond gymnast who bears a resemblance to silver medalist (and real athlete) Shawn Johnson.
What audacity. I realize that this is worth many millions of dollars to NBC, but it's so nauseating. World-class sprinters and gymnasts consuming processed, artery-clogging McCrap? This is a fantasy world that can only be made possible by the vile, subhuman wretches constituting the McDonald's marketing division.
The Olympics are a celebration of athleticism, competition, diversity, and all-around human excellence. McDonald's is a corporation that sells shockingly unhealthy conglomerations of meat, corn syrup, and white flour mislabeled as food. The Olympics provide role models for kids; McDonald's shamelessly baits children with toys and playgrounds in order to gain access to their parent's wallets, unconcerned that the next generation is growing up fat and unhealthy.
Show some real Olympic spirit: boycott McDonald's.
02 March 2008
Jared
Some Subway commercials have been airing recently to congratulate Jared, the company's ex-XXXL spokesman, for celebrating his tenth year at a respectable weight.
Only in America can someone be lauded as a hero for the simple reason that he's no longer a fatass. Jared is an icon to the millions of overweight and obese who dream that one day they, too, can shed their supersized waistlines.
Why does Jared deserve congratulations? What about the millions of the rest of us who never become whales in the first place? Where's our million-dollar endorsement deal and laudatory commercial?
Only in America can someone be lauded as a hero for the simple reason that he's no longer a fatass. Jared is an icon to the millions of overweight and obese who dream that one day they, too, can shed their supersized waistlines.
Why does Jared deserve congratulations? What about the millions of the rest of us who never become whales in the first place? Where's our million-dollar endorsement deal and laudatory commercial?
02 February 2008
Bag It
Every two minutes, one million plastic bags are used worldwide. That's 42 billion bags per month. Yes, you read that correctly. About 100 plastic bags are used yearly for every person on the planet.
Because of their flimsiness, most people dispose of plastic bags after one or two uses. Because of their chemical composition, the planet is stuck with them. You may have only needed it to carry your Cheerios, bread, and milk to your car that one night, but that bag will sit on the face of the Earth for a long, long time.
We live in a bagging culture. In America, there is a tacit understanding among all retailers that transactions only become complete when the purchased item is placed in a plastic bag for the customer.
It's always unnecessary, and sometimes it's downright stupid. You go into a music store, and buy a CD. They place it in a bag that is only slightly larger than the CD itself. Is it supposed to be easier to carry the CD in a little bag than it is to just carry the CD in your hand?
I was once in Staples, and bought a tube of superglue. It weighed 0.7 oz. They tried to give me a tiny bag for it. The bag probably weighed half as much as the purchase itself, and would have afforded me no advantage whatsoever in transporting the burdensome item all of the fifty feet to my car. (I put it - how did I ever think of this? - in my pocket instead.)
The fact of such prepostorous wastefulness is apparently lost on retailers, who will rush to bag any item, no matter what the size or shape or weight, once you've bought it.
It need not and should not be this way. Take the case of Ireland, as reported in this article by the New York Times:
In 2002, Ireland passed a tax on plastic bags; customers who want them must now pay 33 cents per bag at the register. There was an advertising awareness campaign. And then something happened that was bigger than the sum of these parts.
Within weeks, plastic bag use dropped 94 percent. Within a year, nearly everyone had bought reusable cloth bags, keeping them in offices and in the backs of cars. Plastic bags were not outlawed, but carrying them became socially unacceptable — on a par with wearing a fur coat or not cleaning up after one’s dog.
“I used to get half a dozen with every shop. Now I’d never ever buy one,” said Cathal McKeown, 40, a civil servant carrying two large black cloth bags bearing the bright green Superquinn motto. “If I forgot these, I’d just take the cart of groceries and put them loose in the boot of the car, rather than buy a bag.”
Today, Ireland’s retailers are great promoters of taxing the bags. “I spent many months arguing against this tax with the minister; I thought customers wouldn’t accept it,” said Senator Feargal Quinn, founder of the Superquinn chain. “But I have become a big, big enthusiast.”
It's not hard. It really isn't. I started keeping canvas tote bags in my car a couple of years ago, and I haven't used a plastic bag since.
People are lazy, though, and have come to feel entitled to a useless bag as part of their shopping experience, so we need a tax like Ireland's. Of course, at the beginning, customers and shopkeepers alike will whine. But they will change their minds. Soon retailers can stop ordering bags, and shoppers will forget why they ever put up with the annoying things clogging up their trash in the first place.
America needs such a tax more than anywhere else. It's this country that puts a gallon of milk in two plastic bags, instead of having you just carry the jug by the handle (which is, presumably, designed for carrying). It's this country that puts items into a tiny bag when they could just as easily go into your pocket. And it's this country that will set the record in leaving behind these flimsy monuments to shortsighted indolence and stupidity.
Because of their flimsiness, most people dispose of plastic bags after one or two uses. Because of their chemical composition, the planet is stuck with them. You may have only needed it to carry your Cheerios, bread, and milk to your car that one night, but that bag will sit on the face of the Earth for a long, long time.
We live in a bagging culture. In America, there is a tacit understanding among all retailers that transactions only become complete when the purchased item is placed in a plastic bag for the customer.
It's always unnecessary, and sometimes it's downright stupid. You go into a music store, and buy a CD. They place it in a bag that is only slightly larger than the CD itself. Is it supposed to be easier to carry the CD in a little bag than it is to just carry the CD in your hand?
I was once in Staples, and bought a tube of superglue. It weighed 0.7 oz. They tried to give me a tiny bag for it. The bag probably weighed half as much as the purchase itself, and would have afforded me no advantage whatsoever in transporting the burdensome item all of the fifty feet to my car. (I put it - how did I ever think of this? - in my pocket instead.)
The fact of such prepostorous wastefulness is apparently lost on retailers, who will rush to bag any item, no matter what the size or shape or weight, once you've bought it.
It need not and should not be this way. Take the case of Ireland, as reported in this article by the New York Times:
In 2002, Ireland passed a tax on plastic bags; customers who want them must now pay 33 cents per bag at the register. There was an advertising awareness campaign. And then something happened that was bigger than the sum of these parts.
Within weeks, plastic bag use dropped 94 percent. Within a year, nearly everyone had bought reusable cloth bags, keeping them in offices and in the backs of cars. Plastic bags were not outlawed, but carrying them became socially unacceptable — on a par with wearing a fur coat or not cleaning up after one’s dog.
“I used to get half a dozen with every shop. Now I’d never ever buy one,” said Cathal McKeown, 40, a civil servant carrying two large black cloth bags bearing the bright green Superquinn motto. “If I forgot these, I’d just take the cart of groceries and put them loose in the boot of the car, rather than buy a bag.”
Today, Ireland’s retailers are great promoters of taxing the bags. “I spent many months arguing against this tax with the minister; I thought customers wouldn’t accept it,” said Senator Feargal Quinn, founder of the Superquinn chain. “But I have become a big, big enthusiast.”
It's not hard. It really isn't. I started keeping canvas tote bags in my car a couple of years ago, and I haven't used a plastic bag since.
People are lazy, though, and have come to feel entitled to a useless bag as part of their shopping experience, so we need a tax like Ireland's. Of course, at the beginning, customers and shopkeepers alike will whine. But they will change their minds. Soon retailers can stop ordering bags, and shoppers will forget why they ever put up with the annoying things clogging up their trash in the first place.
America needs such a tax more than anywhere else. It's this country that puts a gallon of milk in two plastic bags, instead of having you just carry the jug by the handle (which is, presumably, designed for carrying). It's this country that puts items into a tiny bag when they could just as easily go into your pocket. And it's this country that will set the record in leaving behind these flimsy monuments to shortsighted indolence and stupidity.
18 December 2007
Every kiss begins with... the exchange of material wealth
You know the commercials. The ones in which the thoughtful man surprises his wife for a holiday or anniversary with a piece of diamond jewelery. Her mouth opens in ecstatic disbelief, she looks at him, her eyes mist over with grateful affection, their lips meet...
And then the singsong voiceover: "Every kiss begins with Kay."
Think for a second about what the cynical bastards at Kay Jewelers are actually saying. Every kiss begins with Kay: all romantic love is founded upon the exchange of expensive gifts. Not attraction. Not shared dreams or common interests. Not even sex or the base desire to procreate and raise a family. No - Kay wants you to remind you that the true meaning of love is found in useless, shiny scraps of carbon.
There are plenty of other vomit-inducing commercials around this time of year, but I don't know of any others that make the outrageous claim that the very existence of romantic affection owes itself to the consumption of their product.
And then the singsong voiceover: "Every kiss begins with Kay."
Think for a second about what the cynical bastards at Kay Jewelers are actually saying. Every kiss begins with Kay: all romantic love is founded upon the exchange of expensive gifts. Not attraction. Not shared dreams or common interests. Not even sex or the base desire to procreate and raise a family. No - Kay wants you to remind you that the true meaning of love is found in useless, shiny scraps of carbon.
There are plenty of other vomit-inducing commercials around this time of year, but I don't know of any others that make the outrageous claim that the very existence of romantic affection owes itself to the consumption of their product.
20 November 2007
One FEWER
There is a new ad campaign on TV that's raising awareness for cervical cancer. Launched by the pharmaceutical company Merck, which manufactures an HPV vaccine, the "One Less" ad campaign features young women defiantly proclaiming, "I want to be one less woman who will battle cervical cancer. One less." The website also announces that "You could be 1 less life affected by cervical cancer."
While I applaud cancer treatments, I loathe illiterate mishandlings of the English language. Apparently the good people at Merck forgot to check Strunk and White before making their commercials.
'One less woman' is nonsense; it's the equivalent of saying 'fewer water' or 'many money'.
'Less' is a word for non-numerical quantity: "I want there to be less cancer in the world," or "I have less money than she."
When discussing numbers, however, 'fewer' should be used, as in "I want to be one fewer woman who will battle cervical cancer," or "I want there to be fewer commercials that employ bad English."
So, to sum up: LESS cancer, LESS water, or LESS money, but FEWER women, FEWER commercials, or one FEWER life.
"You could be 1 less life affected by cervical cancer." Laudable sentiment. Terrible writing.
While I applaud cancer treatments, I loathe illiterate mishandlings of the English language. Apparently the good people at Merck forgot to check Strunk and White before making their commercials.
'One less woman' is nonsense; it's the equivalent of saying 'fewer water' or 'many money'.
'Less' is a word for non-numerical quantity: "I want there to be less cancer in the world," or "I have less money than she."
When discussing numbers, however, 'fewer' should be used, as in "I want to be one fewer woman who will battle cervical cancer," or "I want there to be fewer commercials that employ bad English."
So, to sum up: LESS cancer, LESS water, or LESS money, but FEWER women, FEWER commercials, or one FEWER life.
"You could be 1 less life affected by cervical cancer." Laudable sentiment. Terrible writing.
08 November 2007
"Dollars," but no sense
DOLLAR MAX
YOUR "DOLLAR" BUYS "MAX" HERE
Another purposeless use of quotation marks with an unintended humorous effect. Are they trying to poke sarcastic fun at the weak US Dollar? Or does they just not write that good?
04 October 2007
Ghosts, Witches, Pumpkins... and Santa?
You know what they say about Christmas: it comes only once a year. For four goddamned months.
The above photographs were taken in a Costco store on September 29. That's more than a month before Halloween. And sure enough, three aisles away there was a stack of Halloween candy. Halloween treats and Christmas decorations should never, ever meet in the same store.
These obtrusive and unseasonable decorations were accompanied by the loud, odious chords of electronic Christmas music. Hearing a bad adaptation of "Deck the Halls" is depressing in the first place; hearing it in a wholesale retailer in September is enough to make one suicidal.
This perverse extension of "the season to be jolly" will make Scrooges of us all. Bah! Humbug!
13 August 2007
"Sales Event"
Since when did selling cars turn into an 'event'?
Most car commercials you see on TV have a sentence that never deviates from this formula: "The (insert corporate name here) sales event: on now at your local (insert corporate name here) dealer." I suppose 'sale' doesn't sound exciting enough anymore.
And that's not all. Lexus, who seem to have a peculiar knack for pompous indulgence in their advertising, apparently now find the 'sales' part of the formula too pedestrian; I saw a Lexus commercial recently that simply announced "The Event."
"The Event"? How nauseatingly pretentious. I guess this is what marketing executives are paid for, though: to make selling cars sound like a black-tie ball at the royal palace.
Most car commercials you see on TV have a sentence that never deviates from this formula: "The (insert corporate name here) sales event: on now at your local (insert corporate name here) dealer." I suppose 'sale' doesn't sound exciting enough anymore.
And that's not all. Lexus, who seem to have a peculiar knack for pompous indulgence in their advertising, apparently now find the 'sales' part of the formula too pedestrian; I saw a Lexus commercial recently that simply announced "The Event."
"The Event"? How nauseatingly pretentious. I guess this is what marketing executives are paid for, though: to make selling cars sound like a black-tie ball at the royal palace.
01 August 2007
Irony
Irony is using Lisa Simpson as a promotion for Burger King.
"Support free speech," eh? You know what Lisa Simpson also supports? Protesting obtrusive corporations that abuse the environment and kill billions of animals. But I suppose that's a minor detail.
30 July 2007
14 May 2007
Two H, One O, No Matter What You Pay For It
What's in a name? That which we call Dasani
By any other name would taste as refreshing....
Truly the biggest triumph of coporate marketing in the past 10-15 years has been the rise of the bottled water industry. Every day, millions of suckers buy water for a cost that is several thousand times its actual value, just because it comes in a plastic container and has some artist's depiction of a mountain spring on the label.
Guess what? The water that comes out of my tap is H-O-H, just like the water they're buying. It has the same nonexistant taste, the same chemical composition, and the same thirst-quenching properties. Except I get it for free.
We don't live in Russia, people. The water is safe. Buy a Brita filter, fill it up a few times a week, and stop shelling out piles of cash for the cheapest and most abundant liquid on Earth.
By any other name would taste as refreshing....
Truly the biggest triumph of coporate marketing in the past 10-15 years has been the rise of the bottled water industry. Every day, millions of suckers buy water for a cost that is several thousand times its actual value, just because it comes in a plastic container and has some artist's depiction of a mountain spring on the label.
Guess what? The water that comes out of my tap is H-O-H, just like the water they're buying. It has the same nonexistant taste, the same chemical composition, and the same thirst-quenching properties. Except I get it for free.
We don't live in Russia, people. The water is safe. Buy a Brita filter, fill it up a few times a week, and stop shelling out piles of cash for the cheapest and most abundant liquid on Earth.
30 April 2007
Nonsensical Advertising
"New and Improved": This is a nonsense phrase. If something is improved, then it can't be new. And if something is new, what is it improving on?
27 February 2007
Bigger People, Smaller Population
BBC: X-treme Eating in the US
Chain restaurants in the United States are promoting dangerous "X-treme Eating", a US watchdog has said.
They are serving up "ever-more harmful new creations," the Center for Science in the Public Interest says... some individual dishes can exceed 2,000 calories, more than the recommended daily intake for women.
Gross? Yes it is. It's as if fast food and chain resturaunts are having a culinary arms race with each other over who can build the biggest arsenal of disgusting and deadly food. And like the objects of a real arms race, it seems the menus of these resturaunts can be measured in megatons.
But because of the horrid affront to healthfulness that it represents, I would argue that some unintended but quite beneficial consequences could come out of this "X-treme eating" trend.
The human population on Earth is expanding faster than it ever has - not only because of pure exponential reproduction, but also because of improving medical care and increasing life expectancies.
But the fact that a disgustingly large (pun intended) section of the population won't make it past middle age will help stem the growth of the population. Think about it: you don't see many obese senior citizens. For a healthy person, a retirement plan is a 401(k) and a condo in Florida; for an obese person, it's a heart attack and an XXL coffin.
And there also will be an added bonus for those of us who don't eat ourselves into oblivion. Since social security money all goes into one big pool, those of us who actually survive to retirement will get to enjoy more money, since there will be fewer people around to collect.
So if you're a fan of the Texas Double Whopper, by all means: bon appetit. Go ahead and block up those coronory arteries. And take up smoking while you're at it. We atheletes and vegetarians will be enjoying your social security money and the extra space in the neighborhood long after you've been buried in your big, fat grave.
Chain restaurants in the United States are promoting dangerous "X-treme Eating", a US watchdog has said.
They are serving up "ever-more harmful new creations," the Center for Science in the Public Interest says... some individual dishes can exceed 2,000 calories, more than the recommended daily intake for women.
Gross? Yes it is. It's as if fast food and chain resturaunts are having a culinary arms race with each other over who can build the biggest arsenal of disgusting and deadly food. And like the objects of a real arms race, it seems the menus of these resturaunts can be measured in megatons.
But because of the horrid affront to healthfulness that it represents, I would argue that some unintended but quite beneficial consequences could come out of this "X-treme eating" trend.
The human population on Earth is expanding faster than it ever has - not only because of pure exponential reproduction, but also because of improving medical care and increasing life expectancies.
But the fact that a disgustingly large (pun intended) section of the population won't make it past middle age will help stem the growth of the population. Think about it: you don't see many obese senior citizens. For a healthy person, a retirement plan is a 401(k) and a condo in Florida; for an obese person, it's a heart attack and an XXL coffin.
And there also will be an added bonus for those of us who don't eat ourselves into oblivion. Since social security money all goes into one big pool, those of us who actually survive to retirement will get to enjoy more money, since there will be fewer people around to collect.
So if you're a fan of the Texas Double Whopper, by all means: bon appetit. Go ahead and block up those coronory arteries. And take up smoking while you're at it. We atheletes and vegetarians will be enjoying your social security money and the extra space in the neighborhood long after you've been buried in your big, fat grave.
06 February 2007
America Runs On Cholesterol
Have you seen those "America Runs On Dunkin'" ads for Dunkin' Donuts? They're narrated by John Goodman. John Goodman! Not only a fat man, but a fat man who even distinctly sounds fat. You can hear his bulging neckline putting pressure on his windpipe as he tells you about the new sausage and cheese monstrosities that Dunkin' Donuts wants to pass off for breakfast food.
Their food looks heart-attack-inducing enough; why would Dunkin' Donuts choose a narrator whose chubby voice merely highlights that fact? Don't they get that it's ironic to choose a spokesman who could serve equally well as a poster boy for the unhealthful effects of the food? It's as if the commercials are meant to be cautionary messages brought to you by the American Heart Association.
Their food looks heart-attack-inducing enough; why would Dunkin' Donuts choose a narrator whose chubby voice merely highlights that fact? Don't they get that it's ironic to choose a spokesman who could serve equally well as a poster boy for the unhealthful effects of the food? It's as if the commercials are meant to be cautionary messages brought to you by the American Heart Association.
02 February 2007
On Meat and Meatheads
A disturbing recent trend I've noticed in fast-food commercials has been to target the male demographic by portraying the consumption of processed dead animal flesh as an eminently masculine activity.
In other words, if you're a guy, fast-food companies want you to know that MEAT IS MANLY.
One such commercial, for Quizno's subs I think, features several average-joe types (construction workers, cops, and so on) being polled on a city street. They're each shown two sandwiches - a Quizno's and a Subway's - for which they provide deft and insightful commentary, like "Meat, no meat!" or "Lotta meat. Lotttta meat."
Another commercial features Jared, the most vapid icon in food advertising, extolling the virtues of Subway sandwiches like he usually does. But this time, he's joined by some testosterone-charged pro wrestler, and while Jared is excited about how Subway sandwiches have low fat, the wrestler is all about how they've got "More meat. MORE MEAT!"
The final commercial I've noticed in this emerging genre is a Burger King commercial with some asstard singing about how he likes eating beef because he's a man. (As you can see, this kind of marketing isn't big on subtlety.) The whole time the song's going on, every kind of loser that's ever boasted a Y chromosome is celebrating in the streets by flexing muscles, cheering, punching friends, and eating burgers. The insufferable song, featuring inventive lyrics like "Wave chick food bye-bye, now it's for whopper beef I reach!", ends with the triumphant exclaimation, "I am hungry! I AM MAN!"
As you can see, men love meat. Yes, that's what men do. Eat meat. And drink beer, and catcall at women, and watch football, and scratch their hairy asses.
I gave up eating meat over two years ago, so I'm no longer a man. In the popular view this is an insult, but once one realizes that the popular view of being a man amounts to being a loutish idiot with a gut and high blood pressure, being less manly quickly becomes a positive virtue.
This meathead bullshit is to men what the valley-girl is for women: stupid, annoying, and something to which anyone with a brain would want to take exception. Women aren't the only ones who face demeaning sexual stereotypes.
In other words, if you're a guy, fast-food companies want you to know that MEAT IS MANLY.
One such commercial, for Quizno's subs I think, features several average-joe types (construction workers, cops, and so on) being polled on a city street. They're each shown two sandwiches - a Quizno's and a Subway's - for which they provide deft and insightful commentary, like "Meat, no meat!" or "Lotta meat. Lotttta meat."
Another commercial features Jared, the most vapid icon in food advertising, extolling the virtues of Subway sandwiches like he usually does. But this time, he's joined by some testosterone-charged pro wrestler, and while Jared is excited about how Subway sandwiches have low fat, the wrestler is all about how they've got "More meat. MORE MEAT!"
The final commercial I've noticed in this emerging genre is a Burger King commercial with some asstard singing about how he likes eating beef because he's a man. (As you can see, this kind of marketing isn't big on subtlety.) The whole time the song's going on, every kind of loser that's ever boasted a Y chromosome is celebrating in the streets by flexing muscles, cheering, punching friends, and eating burgers. The insufferable song, featuring inventive lyrics like "Wave chick food bye-bye, now it's for whopper beef I reach!", ends with the triumphant exclaimation, "I am hungry! I AM MAN!"
As you can see, men love meat. Yes, that's what men do. Eat meat. And drink beer, and catcall at women, and watch football, and scratch their hairy asses.
I gave up eating meat over two years ago, so I'm no longer a man. In the popular view this is an insult, but once one realizes that the popular view of being a man amounts to being a loutish idiot with a gut and high blood pressure, being less manly quickly becomes a positive virtue.
This meathead bullshit is to men what the valley-girl is for women: stupid, annoying, and something to which anyone with a brain would want to take exception. Women aren't the only ones who face demeaning sexual stereotypes.
08 December 2006
Deck the Malls
‘Twas the month before Christmas,
And all through America,
The people were embroiled
In consumer hysteria.
Billboards, TV ads,
Radio jingles too,
All carefully employed
To con suckers like you.
The songs on the radio tell me that this is "the most wonderful time of the year.” I disagree; it seems to me that ‘obnoxious’ or ‘absurd' or ‘pine-scented’ might be more appropriate adjectives than ‘wonderful’. But maybe I just lack this elusive “holiday spirit” that everyone seems so enthused about.
The season is the same every year. First, a brutal onslaught of colored lights, insufferable music, and flashy store displays rip out your everlasting soul. Then, a slew of obtrusive advertisements remind you that the only way to fill this void in your existence is to crap away all of your money on presents. A meaningful present is an expensive present. LOVING IS BUYING. CHRISTMAS IS CONSUMPTION.
No where can you witness this mind-numbing, Orwellian fiasco of commercialism better than in shopping malls. Seething masses of frantic holiday shoppers pack themselves into malls everywhere, and lug their bundles of department store bags all over the building in search of that special scarf, iPod, or toolset. You see all kinds of people: the business executive buying flashy jewelry for his wife, the pair of middle-aged housewives shopping for their bratty kids, the bratty kids sitting on Santa’s lap, the fat lady in purple spandex pretending she’s interested in buying a cellular phone. All desperately shopping, all desperately spending, all desperately trying to conform to social standards created by clever marketing.
Signs and posters all over the mall provide you with clichéd, ulterior-motivated stock phrases describing what the season is all about. It’s about giving – giving, that is, Gap Sweaters for only 29.99. It’s about caring – and what better way to show him you care than to buy him a gas grill he won’t use until July? It’s about fun – and your eight-year-old can’t have fun without this video game. It’s about love – and you don’t love people if you don’t spend enough money on them.
But it’s not just the malls. The other day I was watching TV, and a jewelry ad came on: “This year, get her diamonds, the gift she really wants!” That’s right. The television just told me that what I got for my girlfriend last year wasn’t what she really wanted. She really wanted diamonds. My television knows my girlfriend better than I do. I'm a failure - unless, of course, I go drop a huge wad of cash on an aesthetic rock whose carbon bonds will, through some mysterious process, provide the only acceptable demonstration of my love and affection.
Remember how, when the Grinch tried to steal Christmas, it didn’t work because he stole just presents, and not the Christmas spirit itself? That was a nice story. But if some kind of Seussian Grinch were to steal all of OUR presents, we’d all weep, gnash our teeth, and then implode for want of a reason to exist. Make no mistake, though – we do have a kind of ‘Holiday Spirit’. It’s just not symbolized by wreaths, or trees, or menorahs, or those funny light-up Santas on people’s roofs. It’s embodied in the Santas on Coke bottles. Santa Claus endorses soft drinks, because he’s figured out that the true spirit of the season is not love, or Jesus, or family, or any other heartwarming metaphysical idea. It's the simple material act of consumption.
And all through America,
The people were embroiled
In consumer hysteria.
Billboards, TV ads,
Radio jingles too,
All carefully employed
To con suckers like you.
The songs on the radio tell me that this is "the most wonderful time of the year.” I disagree; it seems to me that ‘obnoxious’ or ‘absurd' or ‘pine-scented’ might be more appropriate adjectives than ‘wonderful’. But maybe I just lack this elusive “holiday spirit” that everyone seems so enthused about.
The season is the same every year. First, a brutal onslaught of colored lights, insufferable music, and flashy store displays rip out your everlasting soul. Then, a slew of obtrusive advertisements remind you that the only way to fill this void in your existence is to crap away all of your money on presents. A meaningful present is an expensive present. LOVING IS BUYING. CHRISTMAS IS CONSUMPTION.
No where can you witness this mind-numbing, Orwellian fiasco of commercialism better than in shopping malls. Seething masses of frantic holiday shoppers pack themselves into malls everywhere, and lug their bundles of department store bags all over the building in search of that special scarf, iPod, or toolset. You see all kinds of people: the business executive buying flashy jewelry for his wife, the pair of middle-aged housewives shopping for their bratty kids, the bratty kids sitting on Santa’s lap, the fat lady in purple spandex pretending she’s interested in buying a cellular phone. All desperately shopping, all desperately spending, all desperately trying to conform to social standards created by clever marketing.
Signs and posters all over the mall provide you with clichéd, ulterior-motivated stock phrases describing what the season is all about. It’s about giving – giving, that is, Gap Sweaters for only 29.99. It’s about caring – and what better way to show him you care than to buy him a gas grill he won’t use until July? It’s about fun – and your eight-year-old can’t have fun without this video game. It’s about love – and you don’t love people if you don’t spend enough money on them.
But it’s not just the malls. The other day I was watching TV, and a jewelry ad came on: “This year, get her diamonds, the gift she really wants!” That’s right. The television just told me that what I got for my girlfriend last year wasn’t what she really wanted. She really wanted diamonds. My television knows my girlfriend better than I do. I'm a failure - unless, of course, I go drop a huge wad of cash on an aesthetic rock whose carbon bonds will, through some mysterious process, provide the only acceptable demonstration of my love and affection.
Remember how, when the Grinch tried to steal Christmas, it didn’t work because he stole just presents, and not the Christmas spirit itself? That was a nice story. But if some kind of Seussian Grinch were to steal all of OUR presents, we’d all weep, gnash our teeth, and then implode for want of a reason to exist. Make no mistake, though – we do have a kind of ‘Holiday Spirit’. It’s just not symbolized by wreaths, or trees, or menorahs, or those funny light-up Santas on people’s roofs. It’s embodied in the Santas on Coke bottles. Santa Claus endorses soft drinks, because he’s figured out that the true spirit of the season is not love, or Jesus, or family, or any other heartwarming metaphysical idea. It's the simple material act of consumption.
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