Desperate to apply jumper cables to the nipples of our moribund economy, the media has been giving the annual retail orgy known as "Black Friday" an inordinate amount of hype.
With news cameras stationed at the front of local big box retail emporia, they were hopin' for a trampling and probably not above tripping a slower member of the herd to get one. (Note To Self: Next year run a pool on how many people get trampled for the sake of a cheap big screen on Black Friday morn in our fair land.)
At one point they interviewed one intrepid shopper whose naugahyde Members Only jacket differed in color but not in texture nor albedo from her broad swathe of exposed decolletage as she hyperventilated "We're here to fight! It's a war! For good prices!" into the camera, punctuated by the occasional "WHOOOOO!" from her daughter, vibrating and bouncing beside her in a cloud of dried mascara flecks.
I don't care if they are handing out dollar bills in the back of Best Buy in great big Ben Bernanke-sized sacks, you couldn't print enough of them to induce me to set foot into the middle of that seething mass of aberrant humanity. *shudder* I'm not driving within a mile of a mall between now and New Year's if I can help it. Santa Tam's doing all her Yuletide shopping at stores whose names end in ".com".