People Are Sheep :: miscellaneous

People Are Sheep Every person everywhere in the United States is consumed by what the media tells them: what to do, what to wear, where to go to shop. People will swear up and down that they want to have their own identity, and they will even go to great lengths to attain it, yet, inevitably, they all fall into a â€Å"clique† with millions of others. Nobody wants to be a follower, but in terms of youth culture, nobody can really be a true leader. Nobody, that is, except the media. The American people, young and old alike, line up like sheep and follow the media shepherd wherever it leads. After a pathetic plea from my 13-year-old brother, I reluctantly agreed to take him and a few of his buddies to the mall to shop for basketball shoes. Although taking a slew of opinionated, loud-mouthed, smart-aleck teenagers shopping was not high on my priority list, spending time with my little brother was. So off to the mall we went. On the way the increasingly louder arguments over which shoes were the best made me want to drive my car straight into a tree. The one topic that kept rolling media presuaded tounges was that of the many different shoes they had seen on television. That’s when it hit me, my brother and his buddies were being led to slaughter --the mall-- by the media shepherd. As we pulled into the parking space at the mall, I barely had time to put the car in park before my crazed passengers, a pack of teenaged hooligans, barreled out of the car and raced for the door. By the time I caught up to my mob of shoe shoppers they were already in a shoe store, each with a different shoe in hand. My little brother had already strapped a pair of hideous shoes to his feet and was bouncing around the store acting like he was Kobe Bryant. I asked him if he liked the way the shoes looked, or even if they were at least comfortable, and his reply was, â€Å"who cares? Kobe Bryant wears them so they’re awesome!†. I gave the shoes a closer inspection, because if they were good enough for Kobe Bryant, they were good enough for my little brother. At least in my little brothers mind. When I peered at the price tag my knees got weak, and I nearly fell over.