A Wal-Mart frame of mind
It rankled me to have to engage in enforced corporate Grace, to see people reading nothing but Bibles, Our Daily Bread (an evangelical devotional), and 'recovery' material, and to live in a place where the default response of one of the matrons to a simple "How ya' doin'?" was "Blessed. How are you?" (delivered with a kind of sneer that you aren't so lucky). Being as I am, a three-way split between observant Anglican, devout humanist, and quirky mystic, having a one-way ticket into Fundie territory was not too pleasant.
One morning I talked about this to one of the other inmates while waiting for the bus. She seemed more or less sympathetic, and managed to make me feel a little less bitter. I took a deep breath, and let it out. I realized where I was.
I was in a Wal-Mart frame of mind.
What makes it Wal-Mart is the fact that Wal-Mart is...well, palatable. It shares with Oprah Winfrey the gift of making the rift between Blue State and Flyover State seem, well, just a little childish and silly. Turn off that classical station, it seems to say, listen to a little country, a little urban contemporary. Now, really. Don't turn your nose up just because that wall plaque has a really Born-Again looking Jesus. It may not be to your taste, but no one's criticizing you, little lady. Yes, Paris really doesn't look anything like that fabric print, but isn't it pretty? Be a little superstitious, a little witchy! . Never mind the aromatheraputic crystal fountain candle holder is tacky or that the Native American-themed jewelry was made in China. It's stress-relieving! It's (vaguely) good for you! Yes, the place is lit by uninspiring fluorescents, and the floor is cement, but no one's pointing fingers at you for contemplating the purchase of one of those sad looking bettas in the Pet Department. Quit being snobbish! You're just another average American!
While the actual store is well, problematic, for most intellectual progressives, there isn't much bad you can say about the Wal-Mart state of mind -- unlike, say, Target, which tries, sometimes, so much to be hip and tasteful and Mid-Century Modern Revival it's painful to watch. It is slightly grating, like PC's, Elvis-as-opposed-to-the Beatles, and soft rock stations, but, as I said, it's a gentle grating. If I weren't so interested in style and provenance of my everyday goods (which is another kind of materialism) this is what my life would look like: neon fuchsia, which is what they say, is the opposite of green (the color). I'd probably think Christian music meant something that involved microphones and drummers, not pipe organs and chant. I probably would think that lighthouses were uber-cool, especially if I hadn't ever been (much) in a boat, and think of Paris as a place locked firmly in the beginning years of the last century, instead of being (in some ways) just another modern city, since I probably had never seen what it actually looks like.
Can't say much else.
One morning I talked about this to one of the other inmates while waiting for the bus. She seemed more or less sympathetic, and managed to make me feel a little less bitter. I took a deep breath, and let it out. I realized where I was.
I was in a Wal-Mart frame of mind.
What makes it Wal-Mart is the fact that Wal-Mart is...well, palatable. It shares with Oprah Winfrey the gift of making the rift between Blue State and Flyover State seem, well, just a little childish and silly. Turn off that classical station, it seems to say, listen to a little country, a little urban contemporary. Now, really. Don't turn your nose up just because that wall plaque has a really Born-Again looking Jesus. It may not be to your taste, but no one's criticizing you, little lady. Yes, Paris really doesn't look anything like that fabric print, but isn't it pretty? Be a little superstitious, a little witchy! . Never mind the aromatheraputic crystal fountain candle holder is tacky or that the Native American-themed jewelry was made in China. It's stress-relieving! It's (vaguely) good for you! Yes, the place is lit by uninspiring fluorescents, and the floor is cement, but no one's pointing fingers at you for contemplating the purchase of one of those sad looking bettas in the Pet Department. Quit being snobbish! You're just another average American!
While the actual store is well, problematic, for most intellectual progressives, there isn't much bad you can say about the Wal-Mart state of mind -- unlike, say, Target, which tries, sometimes, so much to be hip and tasteful and Mid-Century Modern Revival it's painful to watch. It is slightly grating, like PC's, Elvis-as-opposed-to-the Beatles, and soft rock stations, but, as I said, it's a gentle grating. If I weren't so interested in style and provenance of my everyday goods (which is another kind of materialism) this is what my life would look like: neon fuchsia, which is what they say, is the opposite of green (the color). I'd probably think Christian music meant something that involved microphones and drummers, not pipe organs and chant. I probably would think that lighthouses were uber-cool, especially if I hadn't ever been (much) in a boat, and think of Paris as a place locked firmly in the beginning years of the last century, instead of being (in some ways) just another modern city, since I probably had never seen what it actually looks like.
Can't say much else.
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