Archive for the ‘consumerism’ Category

Bottled water is for pussies

Few things are more emblematic of American decadence than our affinity for bottled water.

More than 884 million people – nearly three times the population of United States – do not have access to clean drinking water.  Meanwhile, the vast majority of Americans have a healthy and inexpensives source of water in their kitchens.  We pompously take this fact for or granted, insisting on spending an ungodly amount of money on bottled water.

While hundreds of millions of people struggle to live without basic natural resources, we indulge in expensive bottles of water that allegedly come from a spring or another picturesque natural location.  Then, we stroke our environmentalist sensibilities by recycling the plastic bottles.  This is our idea of making the world a better place. 

This is not to say that bottled water does not have a value in certain contexts.  For example, if you live in an impoverished third-world country such as Somalia, Afghanistan or Mexico, I would strongly suggest that you drink bottled water.

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There is no such thing as an extreme condom

Remember the Aerosmith song Livin’ on the Edge?

Well, living on the edge is for pussies.  The term “the edge” evokes the concept of a boundary, so the phrase suggests behavior that flirts with a legal or safety limit. 

Using this definition, examples of “living on the edge” would include paying one’s cell phone bill one day before service was disconnected, driving at the speed limit or falling asleep without brushing and flossing first. 

I do not live on the edge.  In fact, I absolutely obliterate the edge and refuse to acknowledge its existence. 

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You call this progress? Technology is supposed to make life easier.

I’ve always fancied myself a bit of a scammer.

When I was in middle school, two friendly folks from the local bank paid my class a visit.  Students were offered the opportunity to open a savings account in an attempt to teach personal finance management.

The bankers said that each student would receive an ATM card.  Our collective excitement was quickly tempered when they explained that the card could be used for deposits only.  After all, what good is an ATM card if you can’t withdraw cash?

I instantly thought of ways to circumvent the restriction.  I came up with an idea – it was a long shot, but I would have to give it a try. 

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Comcast is pure evil. They probably support terrorism.

I am certain that Satan himself is the President and CEO of Comcast.

I’ve never had a more difficult time dealing with a company.  Their lack of concern for the needs of customers is absolutely stunning.

I was surprised when I read a story in today’s Chicago Tribune that indicated Comcast’s customer satisfaction rating is on the rise.  Apparently, the company monitors the Interwebs for client feedback, responding to individual complaints found on Twitter and personal blogs. 

Despite Comcast’s recent efforts to improve customer service, I will not break my vow: I shall never again do business with the maniacal tyrants behind Comcast.

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Coffee War: The evil clown vs. the mutant mermaid

I never thought that I would find myself rooting for a $30 billion multinational corporation.

McDonalds and Starbucks are embroiled in an epic battle to capture the hearts and minds of America’s coffee drinkers.  And I hope that creepy-ass Ronald McDonald kicks the living shit out of the hippie fish broad on the Starbucks cups. 

I certainly do not have any love for McDonalds.  Their food is terribly bland and unimaginative; sand seems spicy in comparison.  McDonalds’ fare is more suitable as a laxative than as sustenance.  I seldom ingest such tripe, but when I do it is typically because McDonalds is the only option late at night or on a road trip through the rural part of the state. 

While I detest McDonalds, words cannot accurately describe my loathing for Starbucks.  The chain offends my every sensibility.  From the grossly overpriced coffee to the relentless expansion of the company to uninspired architecture of the stores themselves, I find every aspect of Starbucks utterly contemptible.

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The commercial jingle penned by Satan himself

I never thought that three simple words could haunt my every waking moment, driving me to murderous rage. 

“Five.”

I cringe as I hear the solitary syllable.  I chomp on the filter of my cigarette, bracing for the next words.

“Five dollar.”

My heart rate surges and I am overwhelmed with anger. 

“Five dollar footlooooong.”

I reach my breaking point, grinding out my cigarette in frustration.  I jump off the couch, searching for a knife to jam in my ear, rendering me deaf. 

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I have far more important things to do than wait in line while you buy lottery tickets.

If patience is a virtue, then I am a man of questionable morals. 

I am exceptionally indignant when my patience is tested by the actions of others.  I am an Extremely Busy Man with Very Important Things to do. 

I grow increasingly impatient while waiting in line in convenience stores and gas stations.  Citizens of Illinois cannot purchase lottery tickets without the aid of a cashier.  As a result, I often find myself waiting in line behind an individual eagerly purchasing lottery tickets.  Their transaction can last anywhere from a few minutes to several decades. 

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The case for food desegregation

As Americans, we’ve come a long way in breaking the ties to our racist past, but there still is much work to be done.  While we do have a black President, racism, both subtle and overt, is still prevalant.  Nowhere is this more evident that at the supermarket.

Stroll through the aisles of any chain supermarket is the United States – Jewels, Dominick’s, Kroger, HyVee, it doesn’t matter – you’re bound to find certain products segregated from the rest in an “ethnic food” aisle. 

The ethnic food aisle is usually a collection of foods that are far from foreign to most Americans.  Ingredients for Mexican, Asian and Italian cuisine will often find a home in the ethnic food aisle.  Each category is neatly compartmentalized into a group of shelves, touching each other but far away from the more traditional American foods. 

This is the supermarket equivalent of the “back of the bus.” 

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