Advent calendars, society of consumption and one little goat
yes, the one that my father bought.
The last thing I was writing about before falling into a black hole of senseless overwork was Advent and in particular Advent calendars. The topic may seem irrelevant in February and most likely it is, but I promise you it’s not, so hear me out. This is the first installment of a short series about our society of consumption. It will be like Baudrillard meets an anticapitalist discourse YouTube essay, that meets angry Jesus smashing things at the temple, that meets a left-wing moralist high-schooler, that meets a goat that my father bought for just two coins – one little goat!
Okay, you’d be better off unsubscribing now. Unsubscribe now or regret it later. I don’t care if you do, because my mother will never unsubscribe – and that’s the greatest consolation in this wicked world.
Where were we? Ah, yes – Advent calendars. I get Advent calendars, I really do. I have been buying my ‘Where is Wally’ Advent calendar for years now. It's nice to keep a countdown each day to Christmas, even if countdowns add hype and anticipation and every time I add those things I inevitably get filled by emptiness when the moment finally comes but I digress. What I don't get is Advent calendars with anything other than a little chocolate, which are now becoming the norm.
I have seen all sorts of advent calendars. The one that is a starting kit to alcoholism –in what state do you expect yourself to be on Christmas morning after you had a mini gin per day for 24 consecutive days?
The one with candles–great supply for an altar in honour of Santa Muerte.
The one with basic jewellery–you didn’t need a first plain bracelet plated in sterling silver, you don’t need a second one for sure.
The one with dog treats, which reminds me of the time I left my hamster with my brother for the holiday and came back to a chubby, confused loafer who had been eating six months worth of treats in a single, hot and emotionally intense summer month.
The one with perfumes, with makeup, with socks, with beauty products, with beard products, with crystals, with sex toys, with Swarovski figurines.
The point is: how many products of one category can one possibly need in a single month and how long will it take for your stash of accumulated daily advent treats to be utilized and consumed? The hoarding of the aforementioned products above may not technically and literally transform you into a chubby, confused, fat hamster, but in a metaphorical sense it will.
We already have a collective tradition of exchanging gifts on Christmas day with a considerable number of people (in which I do not partake in) and overeating (in which I do indeed very much partake in), so the stash of Christmasy accumulation at the end of the season becomes quite ridiculous.
As a Christian, I am very aware that Jesus was not born in winter, his birthday celebration has some kind pagan origin, Santa Claus is a registered trademark of the Coca-Cola Company and apparently does not exist (sorry. I thought you knew too.), etc. But all in all Christmas, liturgically speaking, celebrates the advent and birth of Jesus, which is marked by poverty and extreme simplicity. Yes, the kid does receive gold incense and myrrh as gifts by some guys from far away but it's all symbolic. It's not like the Chanel flap bag received for Christmas by the sugar daddy one can resell on Vestiaire Collective. Also, nobody would like to receive a Chanel flap bag for Christmas while dining with stale bread in a stable with no heating. “Honey, did you at least book a room?” “No, sorry, it was all sold out. But don't worry darling, at least you've got me!”
But sugaring aside, advent calendars full of non-perishable items are allowing you to countdown to a day of consumption and excess accumulation by the means of more consumption and excess accumulation. Isn't it really weird? All in all, I feel quite weird about excesses around Christmas from a Christian point of view.
Okay, but who cares? Perhaps nobody you know purchases these advent calendars. Well, the thing is that they get mass-produced for profit, so someone must be buying them enough to justify their production. The mere existence of something like this says very much about the amount of items that is now normal for an individual to acquire and keep.
A few years ago, while being very unintentional about re-learning French, I started following a random French YouTuber talking about shiny new useless items women can deplete entire paychecks on. I thought that by listening to someone speaking in a simple manner about inconsequential and easy subjects would have been my entry ticket to spoken French comprehension. Spoiler alert: of course it wasn’t. (Quick side note: when doing language immersion, only look for things you're truly interested in and that you can't find in a different language. It's the best way to trick that lazy attitude of yours that makes you systematically escape all efforts like multinationals escape taxes.)
Last December, a video of hers popped up on my homepage. It was part 2 of “I Purchased All Advent Calendars 2023” or something like that, and it had at least 70k views. That made me think that not only are there people that buy these calendars but also watch reviews of them on the internet. So the issue is clearly systemic and it's not just about advent calendars. It's never just about advent calendars. It's mainly all about advent calendars, but not exclusively. I mean, it depends. Anyway, stay tuned for part 2 of “I Went Through a Bunch of Non-Related Facts About Hyperconsumerism and Decided to Relate the Aforementioned Facts Together in Order to Conclude That Indeed We Are Screwed”. And that's why I don't have a YouTube channel like the French lady does, I guess. Mum, please do not unsubscribe. I love you, thanks.