Saturday, July 16, 2011

Chuck's Corner: Random Asides and Irrelevant Tangents of a Yinzer

Hey jags, hope yinz are ready for the Pens prospect scrimmage report coming your way. It's goin down today at 3 p.m., and I'll probably have something up for yinz tomorrow or Monday at the latest. In the meantime, let me briefly spill some thoughts that have troublin me today.

Namely, what friggin jag came up with the concept of the mall? What feeble-minded shithead conceived this brilliant idea of rounding up and confining the worst capitalism has to offer in a giant building from which no spare dollar to be spent on beer, nor a inkling of legitimate happiness can flee?

It's an amazing construct, really, and a spot-on representation of us as a people. The mall, by its very nature, strengthens and perpetuates our social aristocracy, where worth and achievement are defined by an array of overpriced accessories, inessentials, and a persona that can be captured, processed, and interpreted via visual cues (for yinz on the slower side, just understand that as "things") rather than any passé expression from within.

Why take a moment to utter something even mildly profound, when we can simply let our Lacoste-brand alligator and $3000 handbag do it for us? In a world in which our capacity for input and output has become limited to several seconds and 140 characters, the mall serves as an indispensable source for the proper material to project ourselves to the public. Better yet, it can even work in collusion with outside agencies, like credit card companies, so we can spend well beyond our reasonable means. I can't manage to afford a dollop of food to put in my mouth -- or, even more cavalier, the mouths of our loved ones -- but, damn, do I look good!

Given what monumental importance the mall wields, what are those ignorant, short-sighted, tree-hugging bastards out there thinking? A toucan -- you know, like the one on a box of Fruit Loops, that really cool bird that helps the world's children get their recommended daily amount of vitamin sugar by advertising to them with cartoon adventures -- isn't going to save us from subjugation to an inferior caste! Unless, of course, it's stitched onto a stylish polo shirt by Burberry, which, I have been told, has raised the price of said polos from an affordable $75 to a slightly less affordable $125 in some vicious act of malice.

I suspect that it's for a good cause, at least. They are likely using the extra revenue to provide better compensation and benefits for their all-American adult labor, who work reasonable hours in a by-the-books, well-maintained environment to produce a handcrafted piece of linen, the mastery of which we have not seen since the days of the European artisans.

Oh, but that price hike does tax us so. What a tragic world into which we are ushered. Suppose we may have to wait another week before buying that new townhouse, right on the corner of Suburbia Avenue and Generic Way, scintillating next to the hundreds like it but brandishing a distinct numeric assignment, so as to separate it from the other headstones in the graveyard of monotony to which it belongs, housing masses of the living dead... or perhaps the dead living is more befitting.

So, it may come to be that I should hold my tongue. If anything, the mall isn't a nuisance, but rather the nation's most precious natural resource! A monument of financial martyrdom that rivals the greatest of marvels erected by humankind: the Pyramids of Egypt, the Hanging Gardens, the Great Wall of China, Pizza Hut -- all dwarfed by the immense grandeur awaiting us within the mall. Make haste, my brethren, for we mustn't squander the precious jewels of life that we have entrusted to this great institution. In fact, as I complete this post, I'm approaching the mall right now in my car.

Christ, there ain't a single goddamn place to park... who designed this fucking thing?!

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