“The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded.”
-
Obi-Wan Kenobi in Star Wars Episode IV: A New Hope, 1977
We have all experienced the art of the persuasive
salesperson at some time in our lives.
It does not matter that you walked into the store on a whim with the
intent merely to browse. What is
important is that you are a human being with a generally benevolent nature and
the desire to please. When confronted by
the proper techniques, an average shopper is easily swayed by the effusive,
well-trained hawker of wares. It doesn’t
matter if you need the item. It doesn’t
matter if you want the item. It doesn’t
even matter if you can reasonably afford the item. An expert in sales will lead you into the
conclusion that it was your desire all along to purchase the item.
Now, I have stated this as a fact, and I am certain that
there are those of you who are balking at this assertion. You will think back upon the multitude of
occasions when you have rebuked the advances of a salesperson and gone about
your day. These experiences stand out in
our minds and serve to validate our perception of our own internal creation of
intent. However, I contend that these
moments were not proof of your strong will, but the evidence of an employee
lacking in the true art of salesmanship.
The times when the seller has succeeded in selling to you are perceived
in your mind as your own decision. But
that’s the trick. If you didn’t believe
it was your decision, it wouldn’t work.
Thankfully, most individuals who are placed in a position
of sales these days are about as adept at the art as your average television
preacher. They are obvious. They are insincere. They may even be downright resentful of their
job and their relation to you as a customer.
This is good, because if every time we walked into a store we
encountered a true salesman, we’d be broke almost immediately. But, just because most people out there are
bungling their sales, don’t think for a moment that you are immune.
Since humanity first dreamed up the concept of trade with
one another, those who could sell the best have risen to the top of the
economic pyramid. This is not an
Illuminati-type conspiracy we are living in; it is the inevitable result of a
free-market system. Those who master the
techniques of coercion and control will rule the world, pure and simple. And, in a society where wealth begets wealth
and inheritance ensures such wealth remains in a bloodline, a ruling class is
formed over the years. Given a long
enough time to perfect techniques, accumulate wealth, exercise influence, shape
public policy and establish authoritative institutions, this ruling class
becomes immovable; the extension of its fingers into virtually every aspect of
your life inexorable. This ruling class
in essence is then free to tell you what you need and then sell it to you, and
you utilize your illusion of choice to buy it up. You quibble about the brand and the taste and
the look and the label, but if you go far enough up the chain of each decision
you make, you see the end result go into the pocket of the same families.
You see, this ultimate set of salesmen have sold you the
greatest item of all: life as you know it.
You are raised to buy in, to not question, to not look for change. What benefits you and your family, your loved
ones, your community is so rarely in alignment with what benefits the ruling
class, you buy the concept that this is just how it is. This is how it has to be. If we want roads and utilities and police
officers and firemen and streetlights and everything that comes from a nice
little municipality, we just have to pay the piper his due. We need to take out insurmountable loans for
a college education, for a vehicle, for a home.
We need to work hard and often for a paycheck that seems to be a study
in diminishing returns. We need to shrug
our shoulders and go back to our television sets when we are shown that the
laws under which we live do not apply to those on high. And we need to wave our flags and say thank
you for this privilege.
This structure is not unlike a casino. We are born and bred with the gambling bug
and we learn how the games are played.
We choose our favorite, and find a seat at the table. And there we stay, for thirty to forty years,
slowly doing the best we can to win enough chips to cash out. But the house always wins their due. They always get their take. That’s a given, but don’t raise your voice
about it. Don’t make a scene. The security here is the best, and they scare
me just a tad.
Well, to hell with it.
I say it’s an illusion, a parlor trick of a stage hypnotist. It has weight and a sense of reality because
we collectively give it one. We buy what
they are selling. But, you don’t need
it, not really. What you need is each
other, and we are all free. At least if
we truly believe we are. So, stop
listening to the sales pitch. We don’t
need war in foreign lands. We don’t need
holy places from bygone eras. We don’t
need the oil and gas the energy barons say we do. We need to embrace each other and work on the
problems our disharmony with nature has caused.
I know how foolish that sounds. I know how naïve and insipid. But it only sounds that way because I’m no
salesman. Not like them. They’d hire a multi-national branding company
to do a market analysis and come up with a 36-page report on what the logo
should be. They’d bring in a marketing
firm to do even more analysis, breakdown the demography of the target audience
and dissect the correct approaches and media-driven campaigns to employ. They’d set meetings with retailers, media
moguls, lobbyists, politicians, and oh so many lawyers. And they’d sell it to you, whether you liked
it or not.
I’m asking you to
not buy. Just try it. Let’s see what happens.
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