(this is annie)


Dead city

For the past six months or so, I've been a lurker on a doom-and-gloom message board. I don't know how it started, but now it's become a regular stop on my daily internet cruise. There's something odd about watching so many people read doom into every news story, in some cases barely holding back glee at the prospect of financial collapse. They're convinced that it's only a matter of time before riots break out, before we run out of food, before a great die-off goes down.

I wouldn't say I'm a doomer — you won't find me stockpiling MREs and freeze-dried meals — but then again, last time I was at Target, I feverishly stocked up on maxi-pads and razors. (My priorities are dubious, I know.) This week's New Yorker has a meaty story on doomers, and while it provides a healthy contrast to the message board posts, I can't help but wonder if the doomers have it partly right. Last night, my hamster bladder sent me searching for a bathroom, and so I was walking around the mall. (I know, how Valley Girl.) The place was nearly deserted, most stores were empty, 90% off signs decorated the shoe store. Total consumerist dystopia.

I keep wondering if this shift is temporary, or if we're looking at a fundamental change in our economy. I suspect the latter, and that's not just the babydoomer in me speaking.

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