Triggered by collisions with tourists of life

February falls and we brace ourselves for springtime, which in my world marks the rise of the mad March misanthrope. Another season, another reason to spend spend spend the slivers of silver for which we — gladly or sadly — give up our hard earned time.

Stepping out, I move amidst the merry masses, their faces fixated by glowing rectangles; attentions drawn by the matrix of make believe.

Incapable of engaging in the age old pastime of pausing for thought, for many it seems to be the thought itself that now pauses. To absently stare at a screen is to prevent one’s brain from exercising reason, the greatest mediator between our emotions and our actions. With televisions in the home, smartphones on the commute and computer screens at work, a wedge of blinding light is driven ever further between reason and emotion. Deeper and deeper it dives, dividing our attentions and draining our energies.

Myriad messages from masses of movie stars, pop idols and the new wave of celebrity salesmen, “influencers”. (NB — Influencer is not a word)

“Hey guys, its me again. I just wanna say thanks to my buddies at Mattel for sending me my new Feminist Barbie, with her personalised voting card and extra flammable bra. Click the link in my bio to purchase yours…”

“Yo yo yo! Wassup IG! It’s ya boi here, reppin da new Nike Neverstops, with built-in treadmills so ya’all can get yo jog on anytime, anywhere!”

Hi! My obsession with receiving copious amounts of attention and free stuff is what influences me to influence you, and I know that when you copy what I do, you too will be showered with the liquid gaze of millions. They like you, they love you and they’ll propel you to the top, tap after mindless tap.

Onward I walk through this wilderness of watchers, waiting breath baited for increasingly rare interactions that contain stimulating substance and individual opinion. Even those who see through the facade of flashy fantasy are not immune to it’s glare, as etched on their faces is the inner struggle to fight this tirade of tailored ads and personalised peer pressure.

You need this! You want that! If you’re pretty, align your shakras, fine-tune your brand and all shall be yours. If you’re ugly, get a loan and have stuff anyway.

Methods of madness that marched mankind towards bankruptcy are still present. No lessons were learned. We scroll, we stare, we envy, we consume. Most importantly, we spend.

Desperate are the powers that be for the poor and semi-poor to splash out on frivolities, for to do otherwise is to be increasingly empowered, generation after generation.

And we simply cannot have that.

So let’s keep spending. Let’s keep pissing it away on poisons for our organs and pastes for our skin. Let’s keep the balance of power the way it is. Let’s eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we shall die.

Deservedly so.

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