It Seemed Like Such a Good Idea
To someone…although the timing was questionable
--
I bet the daring and ever-so-hip designer who came up with this one thought he (she? possible but unlikely) was really onto something. He probably thought he’d created something edgy and slick.
Well, yeah, I guess he did.
Clearly, he and his supervisors didn’t consider the optics of this ridiculous display considering the 350,000+ dead by Christmas 2020. He was probably just some hotshot, possibly right out of design school, without a clue. It wouldn’t have taken much, however, to get that clue. Come on, Smart Guy, step out onto Madison Avenue for ten minutes. Six more flagship stores went under that week. And, yeah, that’s right. There were — and still are — people sleeping on cardboard boxes out there as well.
Giving him the benefit of the doubt, we can generously surmise he was just going along with the program. His indoctrination began the moment Mommsie plopped him in front of the boob tube with a bag of Animal Crackers. From there it’s been a straight line to embellishing Madison Avenue with fetish items designed to lure credit card holders in. Once he’s had a taste of that power there’s no turning back.
And who handed him that power?
You did. I did.
I see you casting about to lay blame (I sure do! Hell, I’m doing it right now). Sure, right, you never shop on Madison Avenue — as if you’re the target demographic, Toots — and that by using Amazon Prime you’re providing work to the tens of thousands of living, breathing robots employed there. You think that your hands are somehow a little cleaner than that of our designer friend or those well-heeled who swerve into that store.
Let’s get this straight, smart guy.
Probably the only clean hands on the planet belong to the people laboring in the sweatshops that produce all that precious stuff we can’t seem to live without. Not to worry. They’ll be dead soon.
This isn’t going to end well for any of us. The hologram floating in that Christmas display window doesn’t care. That’s just a phantom dreamt up to keep this obscene engine pumping away. Chewing up resources, inventing needs, manufacturing crap, and marketing the whole slimy product to a sleep-walking population that thinks accumulating wealth is the point of life.
Hey, it’s a living.
© Remington Write 2022. All Rights Reserved.
Prime that pump, baby!