This year's three "Black Friday" deaths give me pause as I look ahead to another season of consumers buying a migration route from China to retail outlets to American basements and ultimately to landfills or yard sales. I, like some (though I stop short of saying "most" or "all") Americans, wonder why people need to die in order for the retailius oblongotta center of the national brain to be satisfied.
Analysis of the deaths is in order. According to the New York Times, Jdimytai Damour, a worker from Queens was trampled by a rowdy mob of over 2,000 trying to get at "doorbuster" deals as he and "six to 10" other employees tried to hold back the mob.
Eyewitness testimony and basic physics indicate that they failed in this noble if short-sighted goal, and in a truly ironic way that has already been immortalized on FAIL blog, the mob gave a new meaning to the phrase "doorbuster." In fact, Wal-Mart has quietly fired the surviving workers who were trampled alongside Damour, on the pretense that they were preventing shoppers from entering the parallel retail universe that is Wal-Mart.
Just kidding. In order to ease the pain of a dead employee, Wal-Mart issued a statement defending its actions, saying that they had retained extra security to ensure employee safety and "consulted police," though it seems that someone with decision-making power decided that consultation was enough. Sucks to be a security temp worker without collective bargaining power. Wal-Mart, of course, has a great relationship with labor. Ask anyone who has ever worked at Wal-Mart, and they will tell you that it was probably the best job they ever had.
Just kidding again. Wal-Mart views workers as disposable commodities to be placed in front of doors with consumerist mobs on the other side of them, which in this case turns out to be a really apt metaphor. In all seriousness, Mr. Damour's tragic and apparently unavoidable death raises questions in the mind of decent folk, such as, What could possibly be inside of Wal-Mart that warrants killing a man? Or even going in through working doors?
Were the bargains really bargains, considering that everything bought at Wal-Mart including food is made of plastic and breaks or is relegated to the basement or a yard sale after six to 10 uses, most of which occur on Christmas Day?
What I find amusing, at the expense of a man's life and 2,000 idiotic New Yorkers' consciences (maybe) is that once again, real life has mimicked an event that could only have been conceived in the world of satire. Excessive consumerism has at last become a metaphor of itself and can be put out to pasture, since it's not a problem anymore now. This is how Americans handle tragedies like this. I'm certain that columnists across the country are suggesting that perhaps consumerism has reached a point where it's disgusting/morally reprehensible/despicable etc. with advertising for their holiday book (I can't wait to read A Glenn Beck Christmas).
We don't need a columnist to tell us that consumerism has reached this pinnacle of pathos. Anyone with a Big Mouth Billy Bass knows that. It's time to embrace it. America has recently done the honor of putting John Quincy Adams on currency. I propose that we replace George Washington with Jdimytai Damour, and put this man directly on the $1 bill.
Buying a soda? You'll think of Jdimytai, and maybe curse him for being too beat up to fit into the machine. Tipping a bartender? Leave a Jdimytai. America lacks martyrs, and it is high time that we properly honor our insatiate appetite for stuff. George Washington had a vision for democracy. Jdimytai Damour had a vision of a Black Friday where mobs would enter stores on time and shop peacefully. And for that, he should be remembered. Stuff, after all, is frequently cited by psychologists as that which brings happiness to us, and thus should be obtained at whatever cost necessary.
The other two Black Friday deaths from this year being, it seems at this point safe to say, more or less inconsequential gang-related shootings, we thus far lack the true symbol of consumerism that we need: A shopper who gave his/her life for the noble cause of corporate welfare.
Many a tussle has of course broken out over the last piece of brittle plastic and circuitry in the discount bin, but documented evidence of murder-for-gift at this point still does not exist. Let's be honest: It's not going to be long before it happens. At that point, it may be time to put that person on the $100 bill. Consumerism is here to stay. I'm going to Wal-Mart.
