I was driving home from some errands the other day and, while sitting at a stoplight, I noticed the advertisement over the Verizon Wireless store. It was lit up telling me all about how Verizon is a company that gives back because its “members” (read, “wage slaves”) volunteer every year. I’m not quite sure what the actual outcome is for the general public – whether people, after reading this billboard, actually get a sense of “Hey! Wow. Those people are great. I should purchase an overpriced phone there” or not. It must be working, I guess.
But it in general got me thinking about how Verizon is just one of many companies that lambasts us from the sides of roadways and those pesky 30-second commercials on Pandora about how full of integrity they are. The heads of these companies, banks, and corporations must have a good laugh on how the bovine think they care. This consumerist society, so driven by want and desire, now needs its ego patted when purchasing toilet paper.
What it shows me, though, is not so much how terribly vain the company is, but how terribly vain the consumer is. The media outlets have successfully poured into our heads that the best company is the one who donates money to trees in the Amazon or feet in the Congo. It’s worth it to pay $50 for second-rate shoes when another pair of second-rate shoes is made for a child in Africa, ya know! Never mind that your own second-rate shoes will need to be replaced in six months and can’t go out in the rain.
But I’ve seen, second-hand, what “community-driven” companies actually mean in that statement. It means that by participating in a day of “volunteer” work, an employee is able to not go into the office one day. It means that if he contributes to organizations that specifically (and proudly) serve Africans, he can, in a sense, buy sick time. It means these companies line their hallways with banners celebrating sodomy, feminism, “diversity,” and the wonderful Melting Pot of America. These aren’t employees who love their job so much that they’re bursting at the seams to get out and spread the word about their employer. It’s people who otherwise would not have recourse to get time out of their cubicle. Humans who will jump through these ridiculous hoops in order to breathe fresh air for even just one extra hour of the year.
This gets at the core of the problem: whether we like it or not, most of our jobs are a constant reminder that we are nothing but a number on the computer module. These big businesses are not the land owner from days past, who would know you and your family and allow off the holidays and ask for reasonable donations during the year. They are “unknowables,” men and women who meet in rooms we do not know about and make decisions we have no say or representation in. They, too, have their hoops. Show the minorities you care. Offer some pathetic version of healthcare. Point out how to advance. Put placating pictures of happy faces in rows on the brochure.
But at the end of the day we know the score. They do not care. They cannot care. They will not care.
We have been forced to either turn a blind eye to the blatant hypocrisy and lies of our employer, or to wade into risky waters to make employment for ourselves. It seems an impossible place to be, between the rock of our ideals and the hard place of the government’s greed for our money.
All of these things I am reminded of when I see a simple sign boasting about the shining character of some giant company. It’s enough to make sugar bitter, honestly. Most people just get by. They walk into their cubicle, tack up a picture of their child or cat or grandmother, and tell themselves over the next eight hours that they are making a difference. Or perhaps worse, the teacher goes into her classroom every day, an ounce heavier from the fried cafeteria food and chocolate-themed fundraiser, excited to change the world through the young Jamars and Laquishas.
Things are changing, and small differences are being made, but the compound effect is not one that leads the country as a whole into a brighter future. We have become more disintegrated, less invested in others, and as a whole far worse off than our ancestors. As I drive by in my gas-powered vehicle, I think it’d actually be better to see a sign reading “Blacksmith” and sitting on a horse’s saddle than what I do on a weekly basis.
How can a person even still feel human in this machine we call “society”?
Really, the best answer I’ve found to this is Christianity. Real, ancient, Christianity. Take Christmas, for example. Christmas has so degraded that today most people will drink and eat themselves into oblivion until the very day and then regrettably begin a season of less fun and more work. But Christianity had already instilled this season as one of excited waiting, not gluttonous partying. Christmas Day isn’t the end of the fun, but the beginning of the best season of the year. Going about things with this understanding, we can break away from the vanity of this society and create meaning to our lives. It is freedom within the imprisonment of this world.
President Trump recently hearkened back to a more basic understanding of Christmas in his declaration, and it was a smart move if he wants to keep his base. The cattle of this country, i.e. the white working class, are tired of getting the shaft end of the stick. They’re tired of being blamed for all the mythical woes of the world and worked like horses to make things better for every other person but themselves. They want meaning, and mankind in general is always in search of identity.
Christianity offers it. We have tradition and identity. We have meaning for our days and activities. It’s a swing back that the world global elite isn’t quite expecting – the bovine rejecting their premise and forming identitarian groups. In different perspective, the bovine evolving and adapting.
Traditional Christianity is and will continue to grow in popularity and numbers. It can be infuriating when feminist pastoresses and faggots infect the pulpit or claim leadership roles, but the numbers don’t lie, and whew! are the leftist “Christians” afraid of them. That reminds me of something about the branches that aren’t connected to the root tending to wither…
The false religion of feel-good consumerism and hashtag platitudes will come to a fiery end, to be sure, but it does get tiring that my view out of the car windows isn’t into something more… inspiring, to say the least. It does, however, force me to consider what does give meaning and reprieve, which is Christ.
May you all have a wonderful Christmas and New Year, and don’t let the signs of the times get you down.
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