Picture it… you buy a new CD, go to your car and take it out of the bag. In just a few moments your vehicle will be filled with musical delights. There is but one thing standing in your way from complete harmonious bliss-the package wrapping.
The powers that be collectively decided one day to spit upon the joy of purchasing new music. Just to make sure a dark cloud would settle over anyone who dared to purchase music, record companies started sealing their products with plastic and stickers and pure unadulterated hatred for their customers.
Phase One, the removal of the plastic, begins with an assessment of any chinks in this transparent armor. A small hole or little tab can generate screams of euphoria, but those not so lucky must start clawing at the corners. Using keys, teeth, nails and several swear words, the CD shopper declares war on all that is deceiving and non-biodegradable.
Once the consumer scrapes the plastic off the CD, scratching and chipping the case in the process, a foe greater than the Axis Powers and Lex Luther combined awaits-the stickers of no entry.
They leave residue. They never peel off in one strip. They drain consumers of hope. They are the antithesis to that which is good and pure.
A few years back, in a mass protest to the unfairness of the cursed packaging, America began turning to the Internet to satisfy their carnal cravings for music. Some did this legally, while masses used illegal downloading software. At the time I’m convinced most of them were thinking, “It’s easier to break a federal copyright law than to remove those heinous stickers.”
DVDs are no better. You peel the sticker off, only to bend and stretch the translucent sheet of plastic that holds the DVD cover. I don’t know about most, but I treat my movies better than my books or mother. Every time I am forced to maul my DVD because of those wretched stickers, I die a little on the inside.
“Who cares?” you may ask. You might even dare to tell me to just leave the stickers on the cases, and get on with my life.
I say no-no to your contrived “easy” way out. This is a matter of principle. As God as my witness I will never have funky residue, chips, scratches or instant aneurisms again. I want my music and movies in easily accessible packages. I want my CDs and DVDs to be unmarred. Is that too much to ask? I paid for them. Burger King has spoiled me. I want it my way. And I want it now.
I blame this malicious packaging for many troubles in the world such as road rage, stress eating and global warming. We acquire pent up frustrations that are later manifested in our actions.
For instance we now scream at the sky for no reason, develop an unnatural obsession with Grand Theft Auto, eat red meat and laugh at movies where orphans fall down.
In essence the entertainment industry has made us masochists. With their sinister plastic and malevolent stickers, they are sending a message to us, the consumers. And that message is, “We hope you have a rotten day.”
It’s enough to make a person want to drink.