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Consumerism on this scale has basically turned us into drones chasing 50 per cent off signs around the mall. If someone is prepared to tread, trample, abuse or even knife-fight me over a piece of discounted plastic, then frankly they're welcome to it. I'd rather lose out on the shiny trinket and walk out of the shop with my dignity intact.
The irony of it being they'd think they were the winner, standing there in a sweaty dishevelled heap, puffing and panting, pushing stray wisps of hair back, wild eyes rolling, glancing at other shoppers, gauging which motherfucker might be the next to try and wrestle that sweat-slicked piece of extruded joy from their chubby fist.
We have way too much investment in our 'stuff' to begin with.
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