The writings of Eriq Nelson, ranging from poetry to prose to Extremely Bad Ideas and short stories.

19 December, 2007

Cashmas

Well it looks as though the frenzy is in full swing here in Babylon. I'm sure I can be placed among the hordes of Christmas curmudgeons out there and plenty of people have commented on the hyper-consumerist nature of the holiday. A few years back when I worked at Tower I decided to stop being such an ass during the season and try to have some fun with the whole thing. Thus was borne Cashmas unto the world. Cashmas is a holiday celebrating the dominance of the American dollar over the worlds economy and our relentless practice of buying huge quantities of goods from overseas. The Cashmas spirit is somewhat diminished this year by the falling value of the dollar against other currencies but the country is determined to drive itself into debt appeasing the never ending hunger of our consumers regardless of economic circumstances.

Hey, more power to 'em! I figure, why get in the way of the natives and their traditions? I love watching people trying to find a Wii this year. It reminds me of every other "must have" toy for every other Cashmas season I've been alive for. Who's up for Tickle me Elmo? Anyone? I've never lusted after a thing that badly. I'm kind of jealous in a way. There's a certain amount of blissful oblivion found in obsession and the feeling of achievment when it is satisfied. Don't get me wrong, there are things I have a serious jones for (anyone want to buy me a M-Audio Keystation 88e?) but it doesn't consume my waking life like Cashmas does for some folks. I'd like to pretend that it has always been thus for me but I too had the obsession when I was a kid. I can't help but wonder how different my early experiences with Cashmas would be if I wasn't surrounded by ads and peers telling me What I Need. It's hard to tell, hard to seperate what we learned from the enviornment from what we truly thought and felt growing up. The need for things really started to fade during high school as I started becoming aware of the world around me and questioning consumerist precepts that are held with religious diligence in our society.
Perhaps I'll never be able to fully comprehend the meaning behind it all. Most people that I talk to about Cashmas claim that I am a cynic. Perhaps. I simply prefer to be honest about my intentions and the vast majority of people in this country are not celebrating the birth of a Jewish prophet when they descend upon malls in a frenzy of buying. Neither am I. My experiences growing up here have led me to believe that Santa Claus holds considerably more weight in the minds of our people than Jesus. Well, I can't see the problem here. If the people of this country prefer purchasing over compassion, let us celebrate the season!

I do see people celebrating other holidays and doing so very honestly. This is simply my attempt to give a name to the herd surge towards malls and shopping centers every year and every year my holiday gets longer and longer. Soon the Cashmas season will extend it's grasp to the entire year and we'll never stop the snow machines until every last thing on the Earth has been wrapped in mylar and stuffed under a dead pine tree.

17 December, 2007

The Suburbs

I've never really liked the suburbs. This feeling has only gotten worse since I started working out there. I went to the shiny new Starbucks after work today and I realized something about the place. All of the Starbucks here in the city are very alive, full of interesting people pursuing there passions and talking. I've met some damn fine folks at Starbucks (including my roommate!) either working at or hanging out at Starbucks. The suburban ones feel so dead. Every customer hunched into their shells, seeking the solace of a latte held alone. It's like wandering into a hermitage unannounced, blaring your boombox at top volume. Every glance, measured. Every greeting, brief. I often wonder at the chicken and the egg nature of this crowded suburban solitude. Is it that the suburbs attract people who want to be left alone, or does it change the people there into these shades? It's an overcrowded ghost town and it makes me feel so gray so alone. I can generally avoid leaving the city all weekend. I make plans to go outside like a military commander. I have a strategic overview of what needs doing in the wastelands, a tactical map of my terrain and above all, my armor. What happened out there? Was it a slow and painful death? Was this nightmare soulscape once teeming with life and hope, to be drained as a swamp is for another shopping center?
I like to look back at the facts about suburban development to give me some perspective. The modern American suburb is a direct result of several key corporations involved with automobiles and fuel production selling these old farm lands as an escape from city strife and overcrowding. It's so depressing. So much of our social order and landscape has been determined for us by people with only profit in mind. And short term profit at that. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for profit being made. But at what cost to our national identity? I'd like to think that at one time our people were innovative workers, citizen soldiers and thinkers unafraid to speak their minds. Ah, it is but an illusion I learned as a child. The more I look and learn, the more this becomes apparent. I swallowed that red pill lock stock and barrel all the way through middle school and I still have a hard time shaking the idea that this is a great nation. It sounds so damn good on paper too. A secular, pluralistic representative democracy ruled by law. What we see is certainly not what we get. I see parts of it here in the city, people helping each other, being tolerant of others beliefs and participating in the governance of our home.
It gives me joy and hope that my childish dreams may yet see reality in one form or another. But every time I get into the wastes it fades from my vision and the harsh tungsten lights conceals all else. The scurrying, honking noisy mess full of hyper-caffeinated shoppers tries to herd me in. I can understand how people out there get eaten by this crap. Where did it all start? Who was the first person to start this vicious game of eat and be eaten? I do not know the answers, but the questions are getting clearer and that is all I can ask.

02 December, 2007

Moving away from Myspace

I decided to move my ramblings to a more suitable location after being on Myspace for quite a while. Hopefully this space will provide me a better environment. Myspace has changed a lot over the years and the frame is so stuffed with ads my brain feels squishy every time I logon. It's turned into war and I know when to retreat. Our mental landscapes are increasingly hard to get a handle on. I've been avoiding TV for a long time because of it's constant advertising interrupting good shows. Honestly I understand the cost offsetting factor in allowing ads in media but the effect of it on my mind is too much for me. Big props to Google for making ads that don't blow my face in half with pop up animated characters every time I get near them.

But enough about that.
I'll be holding forth on many things in the days to come and if there is a reader of this post somewhere in the wild dark bowels of the internet, I beg you to always discuss, never argue.

erQ