America’s economy has always thrived as strong as an ox and as efficiently as that computer in your house with Windows ME. Though despite its major downfall with the Stock Market Crash; recently, our economy has slowly been pulling itself back into the glory days of the “Roaring Twenties” or America’s “Golden Age” of economic success. And you know why this is happening? Thank yourself, my good chap. You and millions of other individuals in America help support our ever-growing economy by buying and consuming superfluously. Give yourself a pat on the back with that 200 back-patter you got in China Town!

America’s middle and upper classes have this tendency to buy unnecessary luxuries in which to gorge themselves of time and pleasure. It’s almost this kind of maniacal predisposition to buy things that are absolutely arbitrary. In other words – or word – this lust is known as oniomania.

Oniomania – or emacity; although it has brought our American economy far, it has also ruined the lives of many American individuals. Earlier I mentioned oniomania’s time-wasting and pleasurable consequences, but this “buying addiction” concept is a little more convoluted than that…

Back in the old days (and we’re talking waaaay back), Neanderthals wore little to no clothing in their society. However one particular Neanderthal, Ook Bak (which sounds horribly similar to a modern Asian name), was chosen leader of his small retarded community. Why you ask?

It was because he had PANTS! Yes, my fellow readers, pants! His leadership, although he wasn’t much of a leader anyway, was represented by this one piece of clothing—this unique garment of regular modern attire! And so started the race for more clothing. As the years flushed on, people of high rank, like monarchs and war chieftains, wore more and more clothing— and when weather permitted…even MORE clothing like scarves, and stockings, and knickerbockers, and other whatnots. Take King George V for example: he wore “enough for the both of us” referring to Gandhi and looked like one heck of a walrus on his coronation...minus the tusks.

Centuries and centuries have passed on like this in the same fashion where the rich and the higher in rank showed to have more clothing than others. It only grew from there. It wasn’t clothing that represented high status in society anymore—it was housing! Then furniture! Then cars! Then (fill in the blank with luxury item of your choice).

This could only lead to the inevitable “buying addiction” that we remember at the start of this essay as oniomania, and unfortunately there is no cure for this…In the end we can only expect for the better of people and make them see this reality.

As for me, I try to live the simple life. My life can be symbolically represented by one of my favorite Zen sand gardens I bought off eBay. The sand of the garden is my house, the foundation of my life and where more things can be added. These additions come as the rocks in my Zen garden—which are; quite possibly, just as important as the sand on which the rocks lay on. These rocks are analogous to the computers, televisions, junk food, and that one CD of Daft Punk that lie in the dusty depths of my closet. And, of course, the random sprinkles of gravel that glitter the rocks are analogous to my bed, kitchen, refrigerator, more junk food, etc., etc., etc.

I am no Gandhi nor am I Bill Gates, but I do know how to escape oniomania’s gripping addiction. I think I actually found a way to escape the tangles of vines that oniomania’s been growing since the Ook Bak’s reign of pantsdom!

Be like me! Become one with your mind. Buy Zen sand gardens! Buy really cool computers and video games! Buy the biggest plasma screen TV in Fry’s so that you can watch the next season of Beauty and the Geek!! Live on junk food and Daft Punk songs ALL YOUR LIFE!! Don’t buy anything supernumerary— don’t be so foolish as to fall for the traps of emacity!

Actually, come to think of it…oniomania has probably gotten me, too.