What If You Don't Actually Need That?

by Lee Camp

I need that.

Those three words just entered my head for the 33rd time this

afternoon. They truthfully are the quintessential slogan of our

consumerist society. I need that. How do I do them justice?

Maybe I’ll wear them on a T-shirt. Maybe a hat. A tattoo? Yes, a

tattoo. I need that tattoo.

There are of course different types of needing that. There’s the

walking-into-a-CVS-with-your-right-arm-severed-below-the-

elbow-and-grabbing-a-box- of-bandages type of needing that. But

that’s uncommon. (At least outside a turnip farm in Hungary run

by a man named One-Eye Brájen Barnabas.) That type of needing

something is not the one that defines capitalism and American

thought as a whole.

No, most of the I need that that swims around in every

American’s head like annoying background music on loop is the

less pressing cute-shirt type of needing that. It applies to

something you don’t actually need but think you do. Something

you could need. Something you might need — provided the right

circumstances came about, or in the case of the snake bite survival

kit that’s under your sink, the wrong circumstances. Something

that seems like it could satiate a dominant subconscious

gravitational desire that was placed deep in your soul by either

your first true heartbreak or a highway off-ramp billboard

featuring an anthropomorphized duck.

The reason I’ve just had the thought I need that for the 33rd

time today is because I’m in a store that has mastered the faux

need aura. It fills you with an essence of need that is beyond your

conscious grasp. This purveyor of goods is known as Bed Bath &

Beyond (which as far as I could tell does not sell beds, baths, or

arguably beyond). Bed Bath & Beyond is everything wrong with

capitalism, consumerism, marketing, and possibly advanced non-

stick technology. Bed Bath & Beyond will kill us all (at which point

there will certainly be no more beyond). But this isn’t really about BB&B.

It’s about any store.

I’m here because I need a knife. Not for the purposes of murder,

but judging by my hatred of marketing, manipulation,

and shopping, I’m not opposed to using said knife for defensive

measures. (You, dear reader, don’t know what I’m capable of.) I

need a knife because I broke my last knife (again, not murder

related). However, before I get anywhere near the knife section,

I’m thrust into some sort of meta-consumerist coma,

overwhelmed by the number of products, doodads, widgets,

gizmos, and gadgets — most of which I have never owned, most of

which I have never even seen, and all of which I definitely need.

It’s a kitchen implement daze, a plastic-and-brushed-steel

zombification of the highest order, and while it could be middle-

age related, I suspect it infects anyone over the age of 22.

I read somewhere that this mental paralysis is called the Gruen

Transfer, and it’s one of the few mental disabilities that is

intentionally created in so-called customers by the companies that

are supposed to so-called serve them. (It’s not the only mental

disability created by companies — there’s also capitalism.) Forcing

the gray matter of shoppers to ooze out their ears and puddle on

the linoleum helps ensure we will purchase many dumb objects

we don’t need nor (except for that brief moment) want. BB&B has

mastered the Gruen Transfer. If the Gruen Transfer were a 3-

point shot, BB&B would be Steph Curry.

The first object that I zero in on is a metal and rubber

stand/post about 18 inches tall that sits on your kitchen counter

and holds your paper towel roll in place. The paper towel roll

holder™ is a perfect example of the completely unnecessary-yet-

requisite item. No one truthfully needs it, and yet most people

need it. Hypothetically you place your paper towel roll on this 18-

inch dildo-shaped object and the roll no longer topples over, falls

off the counter, and breaks your foot (one assumes). Therefore,

the following thought process shoots through every single

shopper’s impotent struggling neural synapses (at least those

shoppers who don’t already own elitist built-in paper towel roll

rods™):

1. What is that?

2. Oh, it stops your paper towels from falling over.

3. My paper towel rolls do indeed sometimes (up to twice a

month) fall over.

4. Clearly, this device solves that “problem”.

5. I have $12.99 with which to buy this problem-solving

gizmo.

6. I will buy this. I will have one less problem in my stressful

life.

But here’s the problem with that standard thought process. Is

it really a problem that your paper towels sometimes (up to twice

a month) fall over? Do paper towels have to be so strictly under

control? How out of control can paper towels possibly get? Have

they ever gotten loose and terrorized a village or impregnated

your niece or burnt down an apartment or taken out a subprime

mortgage in your name? (Of those possibilities, the last one is the

most horrifying.) In reality, the worst — and I do mean worst —

scenario that free-range paper towels could get themselves into is

falling on the floor and possibly getting a little wet (thereby

ruining at least 2 and possibly upwards of 6 paper towel sheets).

So although this brushed steel paper towel roll dildo device

thingy-mabob imprisons your towels on the countertop, ruining

any chance of escape for them, (Is it cruel to take away their

hope?) it doesn’t truthfully solve a problem — at least not a

problem that anyone with any life experience would call a

“problem”. If you’ve ever been in war, you don’t consider paper

towels falling over a problem. If you’ve ever faced a sick family

member, or gone through a serious breakup, or lost a pet to feline

AIDS, or even just sold a bitcoin when it was worth $3,000 and

then later notice it get to $50,000 — if you’ve gone through any of

those things, then you don’t view paper towel collapse as a real

problem. You instead view it as a slight-but-not-really annoyance.

But in the world of BB&B zombification, a slight-but-not-really

annoyance is a serious-must-be-dealt-with-ASAP-before-

everything-is-FUBAR problem.

And much like a brief hookup that entangles you into years of

emotional pain, no one lost in Gruen-ville considers the long term

ramifications. Say I buy this paper towel dildo. Sure, it does its job

for a couple of years — but I have to move it with me every time I

relocate apartments. That might not sound like a big deal unless

you have 30 boxes of paper towel dildo-like objects. And the

entire purpose of a store like BB&B or Target or IKEA is to saddle

you with 30 boxes of paper towel dildo-like objects. They

surround you, entomb you, suffocate you, drain your essence,

exhaust your life force. And even if you decide to throw some out,

then you have to come to terms with the fact that you’re part of

the problem. You’re turning the world into a landfill, overflowing

with paper towel rods. Rods made out of metal mined by

teenagers in Africa. Rods crafted into shape in a sweltering factory

in Vietnam. Rods boxed and labeled and shined by a single

mother with four kids in Bangladesh earning pennies per hour.

Your paper towel dildo has seen the world; it has traversed the

globe in a strange form of imperial oppression jet-setting. All so

your paper towels won’t fall over for a few months before you

realize that you don’t know why you bought it and you want your

life force back.

This is how everything in consumerism works.

Millions of items fill your field of vision, each one of them solves a

nonexistent problem. Each one of them must be obtained. Once

obtained, each one of them is brought home and reverentially

placed in its holy spot. Whether appreciated or ignored, it will not

change your life significantly. Your happiness index rating will

remain the same. Your passions, your loves, your goals and drives

will not change one iota. More global materials will have been

wasted. A single mother in Bangladesh might have seven more

cents. A CEO at BB&B will have eleven more dollars to add to his

three billion others.

That being said, here are a few of the items that I

assume will change my life once I’ve purchased them:

• Brushed steel sponge holder that suction-cups to the side

of your sink™: This solves the problem of missing free-

range kitchen sink sponges always making a break for it

when you least expect it. Half the mornings you wake up

to find the sponge clinging to the ledge outside your

apartment window, trying to decide if freedom from your

tyranny is worth the seven-floor plunge straight into a

patio set. Once you own the suction-cup sponge holder,

placing steel bars around said sponge, it will no doubt

accept its fate, dismissively staying in place, waiting to

help you clean your vomitous chili residue out of your ugly

bowel. (Warning: the side of the box states that suction cup

sponge holder™ cannot stop your sponge from telling

other sponges about the way you treat it.)

• Super non-stick extra non-stick Teflon™ non-stick pan

(with maximum non-stick spray)™: This is for people who

found the regular non-stick extra non-stick pan™ too

sticky. When cooked on this pan, omelets fly off with a

speed equivalent to that of the most recent SpaceX Falcon

9 rockets. Crab cakes cooked on this pan slide off at Mach

2, often shattering windows and killing neighbors in a

bloody difficult-for-police-to-solve manner. Furthermore,

this pan has an extra Teflon™ coating in case you were

worried that your cooking was not giving enough of your

guests cancer. (If after two years you find that no one in

your family has been stricken with cancer, you can send

away for extra Teflon coating, free of charge. If that

doesn’t work either, DuPont Chemical will send you a

cancer-ridden family member free of charge.)

• Clear glass canister with clear glass lid for doggy treats™:

This solves the problem of your dog(s) forgetting that

doggy treats exist and therefore behaving as if treats are

not an option in the future. Once displayed out on the

counter for all to see, the dog(s) will likely not change their

behavior at all — but it’s a power move on your part,

nonetheless.

• Thirty-One spatula set™: This solves the problem of not

having at least 29 backup spatulas at any given time,

specifically moments of spatula-heavy food production.

We’ve all been in that position where we’re cooking for

four people and we’ve used three spatulas (which are now

spoiled) and we need another spatula – which we have –

but we don’t have 25 more after that one.

• Chop Wizard™: This device will save you up to 30

seconds on chopping over 900 vegetables. (Chop Wizard

does not get out of bed for fewer than 900 vegetables.)

Furthermore, the Wizard (if so desired) will use its magical

wizardry to turn the resulting pile of chopped veggies into

a neatly stacked mound of dragon fetus earlobes. Note:

Chop Wizard™ requires his own bedroom and office

space. While a personal bathroom is not required for him,

one is advised as he’ll likely turn your hand soaps into

adult silverback gorillas.

• Super Magnetic Collapsible Straw™: This metal magnetic

collapsible straw solves several problems depending on

what kind of person you are. If you are the person who

doesn’t own straws, this will provide a straw for you. If

you are the person who owns metal straws, this will solve

the problem of never being able to collapse them — which

results in straws sticking out of all kinds of odd places,

catching short people in the eye or tall people in the anus.

If you are the person who owns collapsible straws but not

magnetic ones, this will solve the problem of your inability

to elongate your collapsed straw because no magnetic pull

guides you to the appropriate elongation structure. If

you’re the type of person who does not use straws, this will

solve the problem of your inability to suck things. Super

Magnetic Collapsible Straw™ includes metal carabiner

clip and metal cleaning brush for customers who are

insane. (Peru was coup’ed simply to supply enough raw

materials to bring you this many metal items all in one

straw pack. Show some appreciation.)

• Egg Bite Maker™: This small electric egg bite grill cooks

tiny egg bites in small circular pucks, thereby solving the

problem of… um… It’s for those who can’t bite…

things… or ummm… Old men without dentures?? Tough

to say. But one thing is clear – you will be up to your

eyeballs in egg bites after you get this thing. And isn’t that

what happiness is about?

• Stainless steel paper towel holder with tear bar™: I’m

bringing this one up again because I forgot to mention the

tear bar™. And honestly, that’s like talking about a

newborn baby without mentioning the head. The tear bar is

the best part. This function of the paper towel holder

solves the problem of not being able to tear off a paper

towel. We’ve all been there — you’re cooking, you spill

something, you’re so weak that you can’t tear through soft

paper, and you find yourself gripping the entire roll in one

hand, pressing it against the spill, weeping quietly, and

wishing you had some free time for self-harm. The tear bar

solves all your problems! (Except for your brittle bone

syndrome.) With the NASA-approved tear bar™ anyone

can tear a perfect paper towel sheet. Tearing paper towels

is not just for the professionals anymore! (Warning: Tear

bar™ has been shown to cause the untimely death of

children up to 26 years of age.)

• Infrared PEMF Mat by Beautify™: The Infrared PEMF

Mat™ combines two powerful healing technologies to

create the ultimate recovery tool. PEMF grounds you in

earth’s magnetic field for a full-body reset, while

Infrared’s deeply penetrating heat doubles your dose. The

patented, copyrighted, and trademarked Infrared PEMF

Mat™ also fills you with bullshit. In fact, it’s doing it right

now while you read this. Consider this your free trial. But

starting at just $1,367, the Infrared PEMF Mat™ is

practically free anyway. (“PEMF” doesn’t actually stand

for anything, but market testing has revealed consumers

prefer acronyms in their high-end bullshit products, or

HEBPs.)

• Benvo Weighted Ropeless Jump Rope™: This makes a

perfect gift for the person who has everything and needs

more things to store in the back of their garage where

they’ll never see them. The Benvo Weighted Ropeless

Jump Rope™ is a jump rope without the most annoying

and space-consuming part of the jump rope — the rope.

For eons humankind has slaved away at inventing the

ropeless jump rope with little success. (There was a

cordless jump rope created by a heavily mustachioed

inventor named Earl Tisdale outside Butte, Montana in the

1890s, but skeptics were quick to point out jump ropes

didn’t have electrical cords to begin with. Then other

skeptics piped up with, “What’s an electrical cord?”) Well,

we’ve finally done it. The geniuses at Benvo can now

proudly bring you the ropeless jump rope for all your non-

jump roping needs. Naysayers may yell,

“Isn’t that just two plastic handles? Couldn’t you simply pretend to jump

rope with a spatula in each hand?” Of course such

criticisms are ridiculous. First, where are you going to find

two spatulas at this time of night? Second, do you have any

idea how silly you’d look jump roping with a spatula in

each hand? No, you deserve to look and feel like an

Olympic champion by jump roping with a Benvo

Weighted Ropeless Jump Rope™ in your hands. (Package

also includes two spatulas should you misplace your

ropeless jump rope.) While you’re here, also make sure to

check out these other great products by Benvo: the

Hopeless Jump Rope, the Robeless Hump Robe (for

humping), the Bikeless Stationary Bike, the Weighted

Weightless Weightlifting Weights, the Hoopless Hula

Hoop, and the Hopeless Hoopless Hula Hoop (with extra

hula).

(Originally published in Lee Camp’s book Dangerous Ideas.)