Now, we stand here and gaze with foreboding over the seemingly-deserted car parks of all the shopping malls and town centres we hold dear. It seems almost inconceivable that the age of shopping could be on the wane. Shopping, though, like all the great religions of the past will crumble and fall into dust. The most holy purchase will join all those forgotten gods, goddesses and muses lost in the dust of history as we find new gods to worship.
Already there are those singing the praises of their most revered wind farms and those that live in fear of the mighty god of the climate and all its capricious moods, threatening to first freeze and then burn in hell all who do not perform the necessary acts of obsequiousness and sacrifice. All while the Eco-Taliban call on us in increasingly shrill voices to turn our backs on this sinful wasteful life and journey with them back into some mythical medieval wonderland of oneness with nature.
Even now, there are certain primitive tribes who prostrate themselves at the altar of celebrity, finding in the decoding the palimpsests of the lives of these modern-day saints and angels a new moral of living. It is a screed for living their lives by following the most holy doings of these gods and goddesses of the big and the (now not-quite-so-)small screen as they dance through lives seemingly magical and constantly photographed and therefore made more real than mere reality itself.
Then there are those that live by the mantra of home improvement or the perfectly-cooked dish and see the way to contentment with their time on this earth as finding the perfect scatter cushion or the ideal way to roast a potato.
Truly, we live in an age of wonder….
At least, it certainly makes me wonder.
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