Want…Need…

January 26, 2004

Sarah and I went to Target yesterday. At least I think we went to Target. It’s quite possible that when we walked through the automatic doors we left our reality behind and entered a feverish nightmare shared by George “1984” Orwell and Anthony “Clockwork Orange” Burgess.

Nah, pretty sure we were in Target.

Hung along the ceiling were large photos. Each featured a cheerful, happy, attractive person. One cheerful, happy woman was sitting crosslegged, palms together, elbows out, in a meditation pose—smiling straight at the camera.

There was a singe word on each picture. Some said “want.” Others said “need.”
None featured a recognizable product.

I felt like they were trying to reprogram me. “Want and need are positive, cheery things! You should have what you want! You need it! You can feel good about it!” The meditating woman disturbed me more than anything else.

We didn’t spend long in Target. Target did not have what we needed. And, thanks to those pictures, what we wanted more than anything else was to get away from there. You know, before the thought-police injected us with mind-altering substances that intilled a need red-and-white target-patterned underwear.

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