The beginning of the madness

Photo courtesy of www.flickr.com

This is going to be a diatribe: I can feel it bubbling up inside.

I chose this photograph because it reminded me of that wonderful movie, "The Gods Must Be Crazy," about the Coke bottle that fell from the sky into the midst of the Kalahari Desert, where it wreaked havoc on the tribe of Xi, the Bushman. Never having seen such a wonderful object, the tribe began to quarrel over it and to feel possessiveness and other emotions unheard of among simple, peaceful people. Xi took it upon himself, as the tribal leader, to carry that bottle to "the end of the earth" and throw it back where it came from.

Yes, I am a product of our material society. I don't yet live in a cave and hunt my own food nor run naked through the jungle. But I just want some breathing room, some time in our culture when someone isn't selling us something. The most obvious offender is television, which saturates us with advertisements and creates desires we never knew we had, but all media is now loaded with these ads, and the pharmaceutical companies are actually creating diseases and "conditions" just so that they can sell us the latest panacea for things that are no more than hazards of living on this planet. I'm just waiting for them to create an "ad anxiety" so that they can market a pill that will cure us of it.

So-called "non-commercial" sites like public television and radio are now loaded with their commercials called "sponsorships." Redskins park was renamed "FedEx Field," and there's not an event that isn't brought to you by some company that wants to get you to feel cozy and comfortable about sharing your life with them.

In the "good old days," there were no ads for "feminine hygiene protection," no ED ads with erupting volcanos or other poorly masked images for sexual prowess. We had the decency not to discuss our bodily functions in public. And advertisements used to actually have something to do with the products they were selling. Now it's all just a blur of people who are more active, more attractive and more appealing than you are because they have something you need. Even the clothing we wear advertises its brand, telling the world who buys upscale and who buys at WalMart.

Basta! Enough! For those who sing the virtues of capitalism, I have this to say: It is not a religion. Owning things just gives you more things to take care of, to dust or clean or service or own you in one way or another. Our country is an example of capitalism run amok, an embarrassing example of the power of consumption rather than compassion, of owning rather than giving.

Of course this is not news. But it is consuming our waking hours unless we set aside time to shield our minds and our desires. Many years ago, Dad saw it coming, and he taught me to be aware of what was being force-fed into my subconscious mind. He taught me to talk back to the television, to be on high-alert for the inane messages being pummeled into my brain.

When my kids were small and watching television as the pre-Christmas toy hype reached a crescendo, they began to want all of that stuff from Santa, when I knew very well that Santa was not going to deliver that junk to our house. I recall asking them to name their very favorite toys and possessions. Their answers fell into three major categories: books, balls and blocks. Then I asked them to let me know when they saw ads for those things. Not a one. So I told them that when companies made things that kids naturally enjoyed, they didn't have to work hard to sell them. People would buy them because they liked them, because they got enjoyment from them. Ads for books? Have you ever seen even one on TV?

Okay, I am probably part of the problem. I buy clothes from L.L. Bean but not because I've seen their ads: I buy them because I've never had a problem with their products, and if I do, I know they'll take whatever it is back, no matter what. Do I sometimes succumb to the games that advertisers play? Of course. But I try to remember Daddy's advice and talk back to the stupid, endless petitions to improve my life by buying something new. Just this morning, I bought a new hair product because I wanted my hair to look better. I let my guard down.

And now, my most radical thought of all: Do you suppose that huge swaths of the world may "hate us" because we are swimming in the sea of plenty, wanting a new and improved product when all they want is to feed their children and drink clean water for another day? To fend off another terrorist attack, are we really just supposed to shop and dine and show the terrorists that our big financial institutions and multi-national companies will not go under because we didn't consume enough? That was the message after 9/11: Go out to dinner. Keep buying. Keep flying. Not the most inspirational moment in our nation's history. I wanted to plant a victory garden like people did during WWII. I wanted to write poetry, send cookies to our troops, do anything that showed I love my country. What I most patently did not want to do was shop.

Capitalism looks good on paper, but so does communism: "From each according to his ability; to each according to his need." Neither can go unchallenged, unfettered. We need to take back our common sense, buy what we really need and practice the discipline of leaving that product on the shelf or refusing to purchase it because the ads are relentless and offensive. Will it save us? Probably not, but I'm willing to bet we gain a sense of control and brief self-empowerment from just saying "no."