Desire to acquire
Ours is now a world of things.
Everything around us these days is commodified, (meaning: produced or made, sold, bought, and consumed.) Every single day, we consume—we eat, we use things, we burn up anything, everything. In fact, we consume too much. While we are overwhelmed with too many things, there is yet no satisfying our desire to acquire, to fill ourselves with everything until we tell ourselves we still want more.
In simpler terms, we could say that the mall culture rules our sensibilities these days. In this one-stop business establishment, we people are over-empowered to conquer our lack of everything. The presence of almost everything inside a convenient edifice affords us the luxury we did not have before.
The mall culture has gradually and successfully ingrained in us that we can always desire to acquire. And that we can always acquire more than what we need. Who can resist the itch of malling and shopping when midnight sales and bargains come almost every week? Backed up by television and newspaper, these business strategies do not only deplete our ATM funds; they intensify our desire to constantly acquire.
Consumerism has become our chronic tendency to have and have more.
Madeline Levine, an American psychologist, writes, "Beginning in the 1990s, the most frequent reason given for attending college had changed to making a lot of money, outranking reasons such as becoming an authority in a field or helping others in difficulty. This correlates with the rise of materialism, specifically the technological aspect: the increasing prevalence of compact disc players, digital media, personal computers, and cellular telephones. Levine criticized what she saw as “a shift away from values of community, spirituality, and integrity, and toward competition, materialism and disconnection.”
While Levine's study only involved the American community, the same can be said in this country. Nowadays, what we live for may, in fact, depend on what we have. To the extent of spreading ourselves thin, we have required so much of ourselves and we have acquired so much for ourselves, that our gauges for success or worse, happiness and contentment are mountains of things which we have to acquire and possess and burn up and use up, until it is time for us to have another one and another one and another one and more and more and more and more.
It is ridiculous, for instance, that even one newspaper ad reads—“It’s your watch that tells most about who you are.” If we take it literally, though, this is not true—you are not your watch. It’s a pity that you depend on a mere wristwatch to say much of yourself. It’s a pity that it is a thing that might just sum you up. Truth is—you use the watch for a purpose, not to tell you essentially who you are. Even then, you are worth more than your watch. Among other things, you’re a human person with a soul; your watch is not. In this sense, it is hilarious how consumerist propaganda can persuade us to think this way about our lives; funny how this sensible persuasion has so pervaded our modern life.
We now perceive that everything that is of value is on the shelf and so we should buy them; otherwise, we cease to live—as if not being able to buy them lessens our value. We go out in the mall, in the flea markets, every stall we can find, we look for the things we usually look for to satisfy ourselves.
As we browse and read books, read ads, fit clothes, read product labels or watch movies, we seem to devour anything we find on the shelf. And in any merchandise we take out from all types of shelves—books, CDs, DVDs, shoes, store products, anything, or everything—we always seek to benefit from them.
Yet, isn't it better to see these things simply as our means to get to where we want to go, or we ought to be. Do we really [just have to] use things, so we as human beings survive, and prosper, and as one friend puts it, “elevate”?
We hardly wonder what can make us see that we can use things beyond their normal end. We hardly consider what can make us see that we can desire to acquire other things, those things beyond the usual purpose of the tangible things we normally acquire. We hardly bother what else can convince us that we are worth more than our new pair of pants or imported watch.
At the end of the day, isn't it good to ask what we are here for, and not how much more we can acquire further? While we are here.
Comments
Post a Comment