And thank the Baby Jesus, not a moment too soon. All that bonhomie, both real and faked, underwritten by corporations, christmas carols now best heard on tv commercials, frenzied women trampled to death at the doorstep of the crappiest of crap purveyors, all of us given a free pass to buy buy buy without having to give a thought to the real cost of our consumer rioting because it’s all been given an aura of righteousness by a myth about a bitter, spiteful deity who sent us a nice boy so we would like him better.
I don’t exempt myself from this churlish diatribe. I have been personally responsible for Apple’s inflated bottom line. I sit right now in a semicircle of the very latest technology, knowing full well that I could easily do what I do with a five-year-old beige tower, but I’m as easily smitten as anyone by the siren call of merchants of every stripe, the ones who have now assumed the title of “Job Creator” and demand that the health inspectors be banished from their squalid kitchens and the tax collectors be given the bum’s rush so that they may get on with their amassing of wealth, which they use primarily to speculate on what other job creators will do with their wealth, and place their bets with no regard to the small countries whose economies collapse as a result.
Don’t mind me. Just cleaning out the pipes. Clearing the decks for the next holiday promotion to come down the rails. Hmm. I wonder if Apple is going to come out with a Valentine’s Day iPad?