Growing up

The underlying assumption common to capitalism and children is that we will grow forever. My three year old, for example, is convinced that not only is he already big (go on, I dare you to call him a "little boy") but that he will continue to get bigger until he is, to use his phrase "all the way up the sky". That said, he also currently believes that if he puts both arms out in front of him and ties a length of flowy material around his neck he will, should he propel himself from a precarious height, be able to fly; I'm not putting too much faith in his prognostications at the moment.

Of course the tragedy is that, we get to early adulthood, and realise that the sky is more than the limit and that even the compromise destination of "all the way up the roof" is a bit much to hope for. Even for those of us of a lanky disposition, regularly bruised forehead from low doorways is far as it's going to go. Oh, and, the occasional threat of decapitation from low flying ceiling fans.

That's not to say that we don't get any bigger. Without regular exercise and the gradual surrender of Nutella, KFC, hot chips, biscuits, margarine, alcohol, peanuts and, in fact,anything other than All Bran and apples, we will keep the slave-labour trouser manufacturers of Bangladesh in employment for the rest of their lives as we bloat out until an after-dinner mint is a life-threatening experience.

And the same seems to be true for capitalism - at least my personal experience of it. I've kind of got everything. All my needs - other than fat free, full taste Nutella and a teaspoon - have been met and I don't even really want for anything much. The thrill of need/want satisfaction - which used to come from saving up for something and working oneself up into a state of anticipation that made monthly date night look like instant gratification - now comes from getting an annual pair of glasses on the health fund and that "new phone feeling" once every two years.

And, on that, kudos to Telstra (Australia's largest telco) - or at least their advertising agency - for not only trying to sell us the "new phone feeling" as a need to fulfill but also trying to convince us that the environment will revel in the unnecessary packaging that such a flagrantly superfluous purchase necessitates:

I'm a bad citizen, I think, The new commandments, given unto us, are

1. Work to generate value; and
2. Consume

Neither of which are particularly interesting or fulfilling in their current form. In fact, they are oddly self-contradictory. I don't really have time to consume (or, rather, to hand out money so that my kids can consume - I don't think parents are allowed to have pocket money) because I spend my time at work rather than my money on unnecessary goods and services. Work requires my attendance - if not my actual effort - at least 8 hours a day. Add to that prep time - which includes fighting the reluctance to get out of bed at all, fighting the desire to stay in the shower for most of the morning then preparing the meals that I can't be at home to consume - and deprep time - unpacking the remnants of said meals, pondering why I thought I (or my children) would really eat that much fruit during the day (yet again), washing and ironing work clothes, school clothes and childcare clothes (which seem, against all reason, to have gotten elephant spittle on them, which is bloody hard to remove) and sleep and there's not too much time left to do any actual spending.

I've grown up. As previously noted, bloat is the only real option for me from here on in. I fear I may need to become an apostate of the modern economy. Not quite sure how one becomes an economic atheist but, as knowledge is currently fat-free and fulfilling, I may have to do some research.