Evil Dead vs Walmart
I have never, ever eaten so much food in my life.
The last 5 days have been a blur of veggie ham and pumpkin pie.
A right smorgasbord of endless dishes and leftovers, shuffling around the kitchen in a daze with another plate to fill, why choose between the quiche, gravy and biscuits or scallop potato when you can have them all.
The relentlessness of it all was mindboggling.
Good though.
A cabin on the outskirts of the Catskills and a cast of chilled out peeps, the perfect Thanksgiving and I should know , I have had 3 of them.
Thanksgiving is such an American thing to do. My experience of TG was created by the movies and sitcoms of my childhood. It always seemed to be a time of family drama, highly charged and extremely important.
Of course the shows on telly need drama to be ‘shows-on telly’ still even in my limited real life TG experience it does seem like family drama goes hand in hand with it all.
No drama for me though, nope. We sat around and giggled, made many horror movie references, after all we were in a cabin in the woods and that’s the perfect start to a slasher flick. Luckily nobody played an old reel to reel and summoned the Devil, nor did we run into any freaky locals with a taste for human flesh.
I did have a brush with horror though, and it was true horror too.
I went to WALMART for the first time in my life…
Walking through those doors was indeed the opening scene to a real nightmare. The bank of vending machines and Mcdonalds were just a warm up to the consumer Heaven (or Hell if you are me).
I am still effected by the experience.
I think they remove your soul on entry, or maybe your soul just steps aside near the line of shopping carts to save itself.
Walmart is the apex of cross-marketing and product placement.
It feels soul less and nobody there seems to mind.
I hope that the kids and pensioners that work there for criminally low wages do get to have fun. I hope they fuck shit up a lot. I hope that they get the last laugh somehow.
I want that 55 year old dairy cabinet restocker to steal the Nitrous Oxide from the canned cream.
I want the 24 year old Audio Visual checkout chick to ‘borrow’ latest release DVD’s and gives them to her mates.
I want the old white haired lady in the bakery to spit in the hydrogenated soy oil containers.
I want there to be an undercurrent of dissidence in the white linoleum valleys of the craft section.
I want graffiti in the toilets of raised fists and Che Guevera quotes.
Because if there isn’t any of the above then Walmart win, Mcdonalds win, Home Depot, Kmart win, they all win.
Makes me love my corner bodega more.
It’s torn up lino, that cat that always attacks my pant cuff, the cast of characters that sit around and wink at me, the stale bread and disorganised cooler.
Don’t change a thing Mr Bodega man (except maybe the bread situation).
The last 5 days have been a blur of veggie ham and pumpkin pie.
A right smorgasbord of endless dishes and leftovers, shuffling around the kitchen in a daze with another plate to fill, why choose between the quiche, gravy and biscuits or scallop potato when you can have them all.
The relentlessness of it all was mindboggling.
Good though.
A cabin on the outskirts of the Catskills and a cast of chilled out peeps, the perfect Thanksgiving and I should know , I have had 3 of them.
Thanksgiving is such an American thing to do. My experience of TG was created by the movies and sitcoms of my childhood. It always seemed to be a time of family drama, highly charged and extremely important.
Of course the shows on telly need drama to be ‘shows-on telly’ still even in my limited real life TG experience it does seem like family drama goes hand in hand with it all.
No drama for me though, nope. We sat around and giggled, made many horror movie references, after all we were in a cabin in the woods and that’s the perfect start to a slasher flick. Luckily nobody played an old reel to reel and summoned the Devil, nor did we run into any freaky locals with a taste for human flesh.
I did have a brush with horror though, and it was true horror too.
I went to WALMART for the first time in my life…
Walking through those doors was indeed the opening scene to a real nightmare. The bank of vending machines and Mcdonalds were just a warm up to the consumer Heaven (or Hell if you are me).
I am still effected by the experience.
I think they remove your soul on entry, or maybe your soul just steps aside near the line of shopping carts to save itself.
Walmart is the apex of cross-marketing and product placement.
It feels soul less and nobody there seems to mind.
I hope that the kids and pensioners that work there for criminally low wages do get to have fun. I hope they fuck shit up a lot. I hope that they get the last laugh somehow.
I want that 55 year old dairy cabinet restocker to steal the Nitrous Oxide from the canned cream.
I want the 24 year old Audio Visual checkout chick to ‘borrow’ latest release DVD’s and gives them to her mates.
I want the old white haired lady in the bakery to spit in the hydrogenated soy oil containers.
I want there to be an undercurrent of dissidence in the white linoleum valleys of the craft section.
I want graffiti in the toilets of raised fists and Che Guevera quotes.
Because if there isn’t any of the above then Walmart win, Mcdonalds win, Home Depot, Kmart win, they all win.
Makes me love my corner bodega more.
It’s torn up lino, that cat that always attacks my pant cuff, the cast of characters that sit around and wink at me, the stale bread and disorganised cooler.
Don’t change a thing Mr Bodega man (except maybe the bread situation).
posted by D. at Monday, November 29, 2004
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