The commercialization of Christmas…

Standard

… the commercialization of life. 

Living in constant temptation. Craving and crushed by the “loss” of not getting it all. Exhausted by the pain of giving up that which we never had in the first place. Chasing peer-sanctioned matter. Arduously.

Everything becomes a purpose in itself, and none of it is real.

Cosmetics to mask the aging. All the exercise and healthy eating in the world won’t make a single body eternal. Roots struck in the wrong soil.

One doesn’t earn rewards any more – one simply buys them. All the time. And Steiff’s traditional window exhibit of moving toys no longer includes any angels – only cute teddy bears and blind moles.

Receiving the Word with a shrinking vocabulary. Joyless.

Our gadgets offer no connection to the galaxies. Flat rate to flat content. Creatures of the sky walk among us, invisible and without signal.

Oh, who cares, let’s get another hot punch and fried sausage!

“Sans doute, rien n’est plus naturel, aujourd’hui, que de voir des gens travailler de matin au soir et choisir ensuite de perdre aux cartes, au café et en bavardage le temps qui leur reste pour vivre. Mais il est des villes et des pays où les gens ont, de temps en temps, le soupçon d’autre chose. (…) Oran, au contraire, est apparemment une ville sans soupçons, c’est à dire une ville tout à fait modèrne.” – Albert Camus, La peste.

Having eyes and yet not seeing. Not even capturing the light.

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