Since the end of World War II—and with the birth of the mass marketing industry—we have been slowly replacing connection with consumption.
Our lives used to be about people. About relationships. About connection. And that’s what brought us fulfillment and meaning.
But something foundational happened after World War II—the economy changed, and it dragged us (not even kicking and screaming, but willingly) along with it.
The desire of those behind this new economic system was rapid growth, and that required a massive consumer base. The world was changed from what it had always been into a mesmerized gaggle with one mission: frantic, unbridled consumption.
We ravaged the world. We ravaged each other. We created and participated in systems of maximum extraction and maximum destruction. We raped and pillaged not only the planet, but anything that got in the way of our consumption. Slash-and-burn capitalism.
And it was a wild ride… for a while. Like Studio 54. We partied hard. We partied with no regard for the consequences. Only the moment mattered. But like any good party, the sun eventually rose, leaving us with the inevitable return to reality.
And now, here we are, opening the nightclub door, eyes blinded by the morning sun, realizing that it was all just a hedonistic fantasy. Still a little buzzed—we feel the hangover coming on.
But it’s going to take more than some Alka-Seltzer and twelve hours of sleep to recover from this party. This may be a fatal hangover.
As all serious partiers know, sometimes you go too far. You hit the wall. And sometimes you don’t come back from it.
If we survive this, we all need to get into some sort of a false-reality twelve-step program.
My name is River, and I’m a senseless consumer.