As Black Friday descended across the 3 times zones that make up the continental US (CONUS), eager, hungry (not in the literal sense because they probably had eaten a full late-snack/real-early breakfast prior to leaving their homes), motivated Americans (read: shoppers) waddled to cars that many could not afford and heaved themselves into cold seats.
They laughed and giggled at the not-so-common prospect of going shopping so late (or early). The were in their best sweat pants with Champion sweatshirts. Many had sandwiches with them and massive, plastic coffee-cups filled with all sorts of stimulants. Many stopped off at the 7/11's and Circle K's to load up on 22-ounce cokes, pepsi's, dr. peppers.
Likening themselves to the Hollywoodian superstars who are also often forced to shop at night, so they won't be molested by adoring fans, excited words in warming cars gave way to deep thoughts of dancing $299 plasma tv's, $23 microwaves and $399 designer suits. They too fancied that that the impossible was now suddenly possible because in the glow of hundred's of millions of dollars worth of marketing analyses and advertising genius, they felt priveleged to be alive at such a "great moment in history." They were, they mused, because they are!
Hobbling and wobbling they went from cooling cars whose overhead lights dimmed ever so slowly, ensuring safe exits into brightly-lit lots. Despite chronic backpain and carpal tunnel syndrome, despite knee braces and obesity, despite acid reflux and restless leg syndrome, these hordes of patriotic Americans with the best interests of their family's in mind, stormed stores across the nation.
A young man, a warrior on the front and a happy associate of America's largest employer, with turkey still digesting in his lower intestine from a great Thanksgiving dinner, opened the doors to greet these God-fearing, soul-enriched Americans, tax-payers, voters, moms and dads and sons and daughters, Americans all, and in their dash for plasmas, microwaves and suits and cuddlely kittens made in China, they knocked him down.
Despite their knees, hurting wrists, gurgling stomachs and ever-twitching legs, they knocked him down and ran, herded foward until this young man, a 34-year old American, was crushed to death. His last act was to open the doors of the Wal-Mart where he worked on Black Friday, November 28, 2008.
We consume to live and we love to consume and we love to live to consume and so why then do even bother to live this life we so love as love for consumption is not life but a prison sentence from which parole is not an option until death, the end of life, does it's part and our final act is to be consumed into a box sold to us as the last act of a dying consumer. Amen.
Have we not lost our way?
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