While deciding whether I have the will to cook dinner or instead earn my nutrients by sucking down glass after glass of wine (grapes, antioxidants, cork protein), I came across this NY Times Magazine article. It made me appreciate the “job” of Larry King’s replacement, Ozzela Osborne and Rubber Glovehead on the show America’s Unemployed Should Be Put to Work in Different Manner. I had cruelly dismissed the show as somewhat non exciting and the end of America in this post that I accessed several times from my iPad to get my viewing count up (4 views, yo).
But I give them props (the kids still say that, right?). These people/mannequins had to sit through a bunch of acts and then make a decision, and making a bunch of decisions can lead you to impulsive acts like buying a shake weight or cutting yourself off from reality altogether, according to people who study stuff and coin new syndromes (see restless leg syndrome). They conducted experiments and had people who shopped at a mall (people still do that?) stick their hands in lukewarm water to see who would pee themselves first, I may not be entirely accurate in my reading, but the heavy shoppers peed sooner than the ones who didn’t have to make choices between which horrible Kim Karzdigiohsiishain KBebe koutfit to buy. And they peed faster because their will to live had been sapped by the
suck of consumerism fatigue the comes from making tons of decisions about meaningless material items that were made by Indonesian fetuses.
This explains a lot. This explains why I was willing to use a cardboard box as a car seat because I could not make a decision between the 123,078 varieties out there while consulting childcare books that informed me if I made the wrong decision, I was basically committing infanticide. This explains why I spent many years at a job that I hated because I didn’t want to put in the necessary decision-making to change the course of my life. This explains why I was watching America’s Got Talent.
But at least now I have something to blame it on like when I can’t come up with an original ending for a blog post–that’s my decision fatigue, brother.