Senator Barack Obama of Illinois is the next president of the United States. While at the polls today I made a decision to leave the section for the office of president blank on my ballot, I am nonetheless excited to see what this man will bring to the country as president.

On the immediate level Obama represents a victory for equal rights around the world. Not only is he the first black president, but he courageously made a point to recognize gays in the third paragraph of his historical speech.

He is a politician who distinctly lacks the machismo that has so long plagued the men of politics. He went out of his way to downplay the wealth of our nation and the most amazing military force in the world praising instead four particular ideals: “democracy, liberty, opportunity, and unyielding hope.”

Now, I have certain objections to the ideals he listed: Democracy is just an imperfect route to institutionalizing ideals. Liberty often actually engenders a general freedom from responsibility or ideals. Opportunity, as an ideal, engenders the idea of upward mobility, which essentially supports the paradigm of the class state. And hope is not an ideal by itself until it is attached to something particularly vital to a healthy society. While I wouldn’t praise these ideals myself, I’m glad to see a man concerning himself with the spirit of the nation, rather than the power of a nation.

Most of all, I was impressed by Obama’s speech, and even struck with a smidgen of regret that I did not vote for him, when he made a very simple confession: “…and we know that government can’t solve every problem.” I observed a glimmer of something more in this man than a stark politician.

He went on to say, “So let us summon a new spirit of patriotism; of service and responsibility where each of us resolves to pitch in and work harder and look after not only ourselves, but each other.”

We all know that Presidents cannot enact a spirit of patriotism or service and responsibility like a legal mandate, but, like he said, government can’t solve everything. It really does give me hope to see the President Elect of the United States of American take a step up,l not only as the nation’s next president, but as an inspirational leader who sees beyond politics and reaches out to the heart of his country’s people.

Perhaps, this really is the dawning of a new age, but only time will tell.

Photo by pixielauren

Original Caption: ''The kids getting candy at the mall in their costumes.''

Last Halloween, I was on my way back from a quick motorcycle trip to Mexico. I took a friend on the back seat down to Puerto Peñasco specifically to escape American culture and get a glimpse of El Dia de los Muertos. Our American ignorance proved unfailing. We were surprised or rather disappointed to find practically no public celebration. Perhaps, that’s because we assumed the day of the dead was the same day as Halloween, when it was actually celebrated on Nov. 1 and 2. But despite that important misunderstanding, we didn’t notice any marketing campaign pushing goods for the upcoming holiday. We didn’t see any skulls for sale in the supermarket or in the candy store. We were surprised to find absolutely no commercialization of the holiday at all.

We left Mexico on Halloween, the day we thought was The Day of the Dead, and on our return trip spent the night in a suburb north of Phoenix called Anthem. We happened to stay in a Howard Johnson across the street from an outlet mall, and when we ambled on over to the mall we found the strangest site. The children of the suburb were all dressed up in costumes, walking door to door with their parents collecting buckets of candy from merchants such as Gap, Nike and Ralph Lauren.

The contrast between Puerto Peñasco, Mexico and Anthem, USA was sickening. The sight horrified me for two reasons. This takes the meaning of a corporate holiday to new far more malignant level. This wasn’t just marketing and clever holiday packaging. The corporations were actually hosting the holiday itself!

Photo by Ken Rachynski

Children in line and in constume for candy at the mall.

What horrified me more, though, was what the event told me about it’s community. This suburb at the outskirts of Phoenix probably hardly existed five years ago, now it was teeming with a commuters and their unfortunate offspring. These people really don’t know each other. There is relatively little that bonds this community together and hence, these inhabitants of Anthem don’t trust their neighbors. So the safe alternative–the only haven of trust–turned out to be the corporations that set up shop in Anthem’s Outlet Mall. Isn’t that just sad? Is it not curious how the increasing disintegration of our communities drives us further and further into a dependence on the corporation?

When I further researched the Outlet Mall, I also found they offered free interactive kids programs on Wednesdays. Now, why do you suppose the outlet mall offers a free interactive kids program? I’m sure they’re marketing manager knows it’s worth the investment. Not only will this “free” class drag parents into the outlet mall, but it will also familiarize a whole group of young potential consumers with the brands of evermore paternal corporations. This terrifying event seems like an event lifted from the pages of an old distopian novel, but this scene is real, and iI’ll bet it’s not an isolated incident. Rather, it’s likely the beginning of a rather disturbing and popular trend where communities spring up in external elegance, numerous conveniences, complex city government and advanced infrastructure, but lack all the innards that make a real community of human beings a cohesive unit.

Lemonade Stand by adwriter

There’s something I find particularly disquieting about the early capitalistic endeavors of children. A sign drawn in multicolor marker in hand at the street corner: a desperate shake or wave of the sign not just informing you, not just asking you, but begging you to buy their exorbitantly priced lemonade.

It’s not as if you can pretend to have overlooked their place of business in the favor of another: you would feel quite immoral. How could one ignore that youthful exuberance, those seeking eyes, and the angelic halos cast by the summer sun?

Coming across the typical lemonade stand, at first, you are likely to feel a call to flight. Oh, if one were to stop at every lemonade stand! You try to look away so as not to be entrapped by the guilt-inspiring tractor beam of puppy-dog faces.

The second instinct, however, is one of pity. While these young boys and girls are not likely to be risking any great financial investment, there is some great hazard at hand to their naive egos. And for a horrifying instant, one worries that there is no one but oneself to save their enterprise and their innocent faith in capitalism.

On approach to the rickety stand, young eyes reeling you in like a floundering fish, you can’t help but feel awkward. For an instant, you wonder if you had any choice, in the first place, as to the, now, inevitable purchase.

You’ve entered the radius of proximity of prospective customer. But at a lemonade stand, a prospective customer is a guaranteed customer, and you know you’ve been involuntarily committed. The little capitalists know likewise. You pretend you still have options, and maybe you stall as if stumped between a choice of Country Time instant lemonade, or Country Time instant lemonade.

You look quickly for pricing information, none to be found, so you ask with a smile and sparkle in your eye: “How much is this, here, lemonade by the glass?” The terse response “two-fifty” rings so loud in your ears with the tone of impatience and unfriendliness, that you forget to be outraged by the price.

Your grudgingly keep a smile on your face and pull for your wallet in sheer embarrassment. You’ve been conned, and you know it. Couldn’t they at least hide the lemonade powder, so you didn’t know you were being ripped off? But you realize that that is a more advanced capitalistic lesson that they have yet to learn–a lesson they don’t need to learn as long as they have baby faces.

And when you receive your half-full Dixie cup of instant lemonade, you think you’ve reached maximum exasperation. That is, until you’re handed your 50 cents change and notice the youthful eyes intentionally avoiding the giant fish-bowl labeled “Tips” in hand-written three-inch bubble letters. And you falter, you almost choke on your first and last sip of lemonade, and you deposit one quarter after another with protracted, yet concealed, bitterness.

The quarters still ringing in your ears, you walk away, hurt, wounded and extorted. Such are the lessons that dispel the myth of childish innocence and stand as testament to their ability to effectively exploit the capitalist system.

Originally composed June 24, 2008

Hannah Montanna is just so hip and sexy. Why wouldn't you want to buy her jeans?

I was resentfully assaulted by this whole Hannah Montana sensation upon a rare visit to my local Wal-Mart. Images of her plastic face decked with copious amounts of foundation, heavily liner-laden porn star eyes, lips sparkling with her own brand of lip gloss were enlarged and plastered on display bins and posters at every turn in the store.

Her face was branded on bicycle helmets, movies, compact discs, backpacks, alarm clocks, swimming suits, clothes, lunch boxes, jewelry, stickers, games, scooters, play phones, bath beach towels, notebooks, planners, key chains, iPod docks, dolls, books, folding chairs, blankets…I’m frankly too fed up to go on.

Now I have nothing against Miley Cyrus personally, but don’t you think she’s a little young at the age of 15 to be in bed with fat dandies like Wal-Mart and Disney? Wait, there’s no age of consent law when it comes to selling your body to a corporation. But this is really undignified. One could say she entered into these agreements on her own free will. But these corporations own her. They made her who she is. They put her up in front of the lights, up in hot new clothes, in layers of makeup, and they purchased the rights to her body for just a couple million dollars a year. Despite all the money they’ve paid for her services, they know they’re getting the better deal. They are ravishing this young woman, and they’ll gang bang all the money they can out of her hot little bod until she’s dried up on drugs.

What’s even more disturbing is how parents aren’t disturbed that their little girls are eating it all right up. And that their pubescent boys are salivating at the mouth. Sure it’s effective marketing, but what does it reveal about the idiocy of our culture? Are we not concerned about the dignity of our girls who are parading around as little Hannah Montana wannabes? Are we not concerned that this underage sex-icon is setting the standard for young women? Is this perfectly-primped Barbie-doll-superstar millionaire-teenager, really the role model we want our girls to aspire to and compare themselves against?

Of course not. But is Wal-Mart going to pull Hannah Montana items from their shelves in moral indignation? No. Are Wal-Mart customers going to boycott in outrage, until they do? No. Hannah Montana is the product of Disney, a great and paternal corporation. When a great and paternal corporation endorses something, the customer is obliged to endorse it as well. Who is a single man to disrespect a great and paternal corporation?