Something to Cry About and Other Laughing Matters

It is a natural consequence of our consumer culture that we inevitably experience dissatisfaction with our consumer products.  The only reason we do not experience it even more often is because the present allotment of twenty-four hours per day limits how much new dissatisfaction we can acquire in addition to dealing with the dissatisfaction we already have. In today’s economy, many of us cannot afford to acquire more products to replace the ones we’re discontent with, and those who can don’t have the time to spend dealing with the frustration the replacement products would provide.

Solutions for dealing with product related dissatisfaction, such as Hara Kari, will be explored in a subsequent lesson, but first let’s take a look at why this issue is worthy of exploration in the first place.

As the record numbers put up by the anti-depressant industry in recent quarters indicate, our collective dissatisfaction level is at an all time high. In fact, we are just a few gripes shy of the mark set by the post-exodus Hebrews. According to the Biblical story, the Hebrew people were so discontent with the limited menu options, leprosy outbreaks, and lack of indoor plumbing that defined their desert-wandering lifestyle, that they wished they were back in Egypt were they had once been active members of the slave community. In response, Moses made them keep wandering around the desert for forty more years, effectively giving them something to cry about.

Fortunately, for him, Moses can’t be blamed for our present consumer-related grievances. This time the blame goes to the producers of said products. Although they are continually devising new ways to raise our hopes and lower our bank balances, these geniuses still haven’t improved much on Moses’ strategy as far as solutions go. Thus far, our only option remains the further consumption of more products.

The ancient Hebrews’ economy revolved around bartering (an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth), and threat of stoning, whereas in today’s market there’s actual money involved, which means the product producers can make a monetary profit off us. As far as I can see, that’s more motivation than Moses had for keeping his people on time out for four decades, so I wouldn’t place any kind of time limit on this trend just yet.

Even if you were to take your complaint up with the product manufacturers, you’ll most likely wind up shopping around again at the end of the ordeal—first for a cherry bomb, then for a good alibi.

Whether our consumption of a product is literal or figurative, there is always an element of expectation involved, but unless our expectation is to feel screwed somehow by the experience, there’s a good chance we will be disappointed.

Our expectations may be too high, but it’s not our fault. You can blame that on the ad companies who neglect to accompany their high energy sales pitches with a high speed rundown of the ways in which their product may disappoint us. Wouldn’t it be easier to take responsibility for your own dissatisfaction if your kitchen appliances came with a written inventory of potential negative effects just like your anti-depressants do? All the “keep away from small children” warning does is engender distrust of small children, who are not even the source of your dissatisfaction—at least not as it relates to your lousy egg beater.   

The Hebrews eventually quit complaining long enough to smite the Philistines and bring about the changes they wanted, and now we too must take positive action. Just don’t ask me how.

All I know is that if we seek to assuage our consumer grief by consuming additional products—including those with a significant alcoholic content—all we are doing is perpetuating the vicious cycle of consumerism. As long as we do that, even in these uncertain times, we will always have something to cry about.