Attention, K-mart shoppers. . . . .
Don’t look now, but it’s the big rush of viral marketing as the masses stumble toward my blog of tip-top insight, storming through the doors with what looks like a bad Italian zombie flick from 1978. Tell your friends. It’s video-rental mania with old junky footage as it looks like they shot in an abandoned shopping-mall.
I’ve never seen a crowd look like this, even with Christmas and Black Friday shopping as you see a bit more “fizz” in the eyes of midnight zombie madness as I’m sure Lydia would be on the periphery of the throng, snapping pictures.
Lo, the mortification.
Young Lydia was doubtlessly a mall-rat through Friday nights of idling and ironic consumption, over a strawberry slushee as the whole world seemed locked in its staggering burden of “plastic ant-farm” byways as it takes a mixture of boredom and bright perception to be young and vaguely-dissatisfied like a fashion critic.
She might see “Edward Scissorhands” working in the food-court, as humanity gets sent through the grinder of commerce with a pursed, wincing expression.Who else will pour through her manifesto of “the strange & unusual”? Dark emotion, obscure poetry, and anti-capitalist screeds. An original lost-art.Again– lo, the mortification. I just hope she doesn’t have to get a job, someday– probably working at “Build-a-Bear” and spooking little girls with her bone-drumming behind the counter as her head-dress could cut you with those quills.Angst is a forgotten style, as she floats with her hand, over her head to the register and rings-you out with great artistic license. At least she’s not working at “The Gap”.