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Consumerism Smothering Human Creativity– “I Think, Therefore I Shop”
“A human being should be able to change a diaper, plan an invasion, butcher a hog, conn a ship, design a building, write a sonnet, balance accounts, build a wall, set a bone, comfort the dying, take orders, give orders, cooperate, act alone, solve equations, analyze a new problem, pitch manure, program a computer, cook a tasty meal, fight efficiently, die gallantly. Specialization is for insects.”
- Robert A. Heinlein
Just take a stroll to the nearest mall (or the nearest upcoming one) on a weekend and what do you see? Hordes of shoppers pushing their way through a gigantic stampede of other shoppers lulled by the power of the brand name and the “discount” price tag. Count yourself lucky if you can complete that shopping trip unmauled by the forces of “nature”. Shades of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land of Mecca flash before one’s eyes as one struggles to meander the unnavigable terrain of merciless consumers hunting for yet another generic Osim chair or “that new outfit by Forever 21 that I simply must have”.
Brand name consciousness, certainly, is the mantra by which we eat and breathe these days. From designer bottled water to purified mountain air, Nokia, OSIM, Nike, GAP, Levi’s, and its likes make up the Ten Commandments of the materialistic sub-culture we inhabit. One is easily compelled to wonder why of all things does one need to brave the throng yet another Sunday in the “largest shopping mall in (insert continent)” to purchase yet another little black dress and phone accessory to match when others can scant tell the difference whether its really Pucci or Grada or what the Ah Beng in Petaling Street said was ‘in’ this monsoon.
Nevertheless it is an untiring business as thousands of Ah Lians with boyfriends and butt-crack revealing jeans (and boyfriends in their butt-crack revealing jeans) join forces every other weekend to ensure the struggle does not fade from light. From ‘romantic’ strolls in bookstores while snogging each other and glaring at any poor soul who happens to read in their way, to snatching the last fur-coated cropped cardigan from any poor soul who happens to be paying for it in their way, the quest for more material goods continues. And again next week. Like what Arnie in good ol’California would say, “I’ll be back.”
Indeed, yours truly, a former avid shopper and holder of the longest shopping marathon award has now been relegated to a shadow of her former self. One is not ashamed to say that one is now terrified of malls due to the fear of the impending mindlessness and lack of consideration of others from the first step into the shopping sphere. A twilight zone of apathy mixed with feigned blindness engulfs as one takes that hesitant step. It is as though one is cloaked by the hands of evil – the evil of money, surely – as everyone else pretends to see no mercy, hear no mercy, and of course, speak no mercy as they bump you nonchalantly out of the queue you’ve been standing in since an hour ago. (Just try GSC Mid Valley on a school holiday).
You want to say you’re sorry for not letting them jump queue – you poor little kind soul – rare as you are like a gem in the rough. But they give you the eye and you shrink back – only to bump into the bouncer from Hell who is so dedicated to his night job, he lives it out during the day. So you scurry into the only refuge you think still exists – only to see that the toilet is now a war zone – or at least Daniel Craig must have had his first victim up as James Bond in there. And you’re at a total loss. MOREHERE
