Damn reading, anyway

So last night I was reading a book called "Consuming Kids: The Hostile Takeover of Childhood," by some lady. It was a very insightful examination of marketing for children, and I honestly thought I was having a heart attack as I read it. My chest knotted; breathing was a struggle. My stomach twisted and heaved. Reading her words, I just couldn't see any hope for my child. How could I, a single mother with few resources, hope to shield her from a society bent on turning her into a mindless, heartless drone? A monster?

I thought about throwing all her toys away--at least all the silly ones that talked or sang or squawked. I thought about blowing up our tv. I certainly regretted buying her the "Sesame Street" overalls I'd picked up at the consignment store that afternoon. What was I doing to my baby, teaching her to love Elmo and Big Bird and all those other fuzzy puppets? Sixteen months old, and I have already failed her.

Maybe it's silly to fall into despair, but I honestly can't see any hope for a good life when society works so hard to undo everything good for human beings. The government serves the corporations and the corporations want nothing more than for us to buy, buy, buy--with no concern for our hearts or minds or expanding waist lines.

Damn reading, anyway. If I hadn't read that book, I wouldn't be cursing myself or predicting a new dark age. I'd have my head back in the sand, as I prefer.