Black Friday is Dead

For most of my life, Black Friday has been a bloodbath of libidinal consumerism. Every year, we turned housewives into gladiators, arguing and beating each other over discounted bath towels at JC Penny. Black Friday meant pulling a gun in a Toys “R” US, being trampled to death by a crowd of 2,000 at Walmart, or having an old-West-style shootout over a parking spot in Tallahassee. In 2008, someone even created the website “Black Friday Death Count.” Black Friday always meant many things: a rush of adrenaline, excitement, fear, anxiety, and rage.