Adbusters' Buy Nothing Day commences November 23, 2007 - which is the day after Thanksgiving (aka Black Mother Fuckin' Friday). The premise of the resistance: "an effort to expose the environmental and social consequences of First World over-consumption." Preach it.(This doom and gloomer won't board the revolution bus, unless it's for a hijacking.)
And, honestly, weirdly, truly and ironically, this day is the only day I actually enjoy shopping... though it has nothing to do with spending dollars. Traditionally, my sisters, my mother and I have become part of this store-hopping mayhem for the shear thrill of the cluster-fuck. Oh, the memories, the near adventures. T-Giving night, all hopped up on sugar and booze, we'd peruse the newspaper ad inserts, spreading them on coffee table and sofa, debating the finer points of the Target off-brand boombox versus the Best Buy off-brand DVD player. Keeping to planned lists, succinct drive routes and a manageable wake-up time, we froze asses and hands off, rarely - if ever - actually purchasing anything, searching for bathrooms, complaining and only looking forward to breakfast. (I can be forced to do anything with a promise of breakfast in a restaurant. Cracker Barrel! Please settle a spot in California.)
I won't be home this Thanksgiving, to good old capitalistic South Bend, Indiana. So by default I shall participate in the AdBusters' event (being in a cabin in Tahoe insures minimal mall time).
True Story: I'm sad. Fuck AdBusters. I want my mommy and my mommy to buy me breakfast.
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