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Holiday
Hamster Wheel (Nov/Dec 2004)
A
chill is smelled on the wind, crispness is sensed in the air,
as pedestrians transform into cyborgs, merging with metal, climbing
into status-symbol SUVs, preparing for their pilgrimage as they
shift out of park. Hearts are rat-racing, bathed in adrenaline,
as roads carry all the anxious ants to their desired destinations,
wallets full of dirty pieces of paper prescribed as valuable,
armed to the teeth with plastic just waiting to be maxed. Middle
fingers are poised, hands hovering above horns, a vehement vocabulary
of vulgarity residing on the tips of tongues, waiting to be unleashed
upon any who impede the forward flow of traffic. Paths converge,
captivated citizens meeting at a monolith of monotony, ready to
sell their souls in order to quiet the desires evoked in their
offspring by the spin-doctors of child marketing.
What you need
to understand, is that this is the most wonderful time of the
year.
What you should
know, is that there's a distinctive difference between Santa Clause
and Jesus Christ. The "Son of Man" never makes cameo
appearances on television commercials hawking the latest consumer
goods. You'll never find Jesus posing on a can of coca-cola classic,
and children won't write Him letters requesting tickle-me-elmos.
And if Santa's
elves worked sixty-hour weeks in an Indonesian sweat-shop, would
anybody notice, or would they continue on with their nefarious
orgy of materialism, putting into practice a procedure known as
trickle-up economics. Haphazardly sending off hard-earned holiday
bonuses hundreds of miles away to the headquarters of multi-national
corporations. This feast of fallacies has become the modern equivalent
to the vomitorium. Remember, all those Ancient Romans gorging
themselves then throwing up so they could continue to feed their
swollen stomachs.
How many ad
campaigns did it take to shift the holidays from a time for friends
and family, to a celebration of the indulgent spoils of Empire?
Is it possible
when people realize that our lavish lifestyle is achieved only
through the exploitation of the Third World that a reprogramming
of sorts will commence?
The solutions
are within sight, beckoning us to go back to the basics. Hand-made
gifts from the heart, giving away things no longer needed, clothes
that have ceased to fit, wrapping paper handmade from recycled
materials, decorated with care. After all, art projects are more
fun than obsessions. Boycott the stressful experience of shopping
amidst Urban Sprawl, and instead support struggling local business.
Stroll through the diversity of downtown shops and find unique
items unavailable elsewhere. The owners of these homegrown establishments
are our neighbors, and they need our patronage much more than
community destroying global chains.
The time has
come to throw a wrench into the gears of a machine that has sucked
the tranquility from our traditions, and attempted to sell them
back to us in the form of flat-screen TVs. Declare your independence
from the desensitized Skinner-box that has become the day after
Thanksgiving. Buy local, or stay at home.
-Jason M Glover
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