kicking squealing gucci little piggies

There’s something deeply pathological about gated communities. These little walled-in fiefdoms exist to shield their residents from the outer world. They are scattered quite thoroughly across Orange County.

There are the rich enclaves of Coto de Caza and Newport Coast, and the elderly neighborhoods of Leisure World and Rossmoor, for instance. Last time I checked, Southern California faced no considerable threat from barbarian invasions.

So, why the fear? Why the isolation? Are you trying to keep us out or restrain yourselves inside? What are you afraid of?

This dread extends outside of their fiefdom bubble and into world of plebeians, or common people, if you will. People seem generally afraid to talk to each other in public. I was in the market the other day to buy some tofu. People push their carts around to the droll muzak trying to avoid one another in silence. Each one scurried around the fluorescent lit market like a rat looking for its cheese. I felt like screaming just to break the repressive silence.

Quick! Fill the carts! Consume, consume, consume. Quick!

I could go on about the sad peculiarities of Orange County, but El Serracho has unleashed a mighty rant that covers several bases. If I can add one thing though...

His observation of televisions in bars gives more evidence to my point above. These fiefdom dwellers (and wannabe fiefdomites too) will stoop at nothing to isolate themselves from genuine social interaction. They put DVD players in the backseat of their SUVs to pacify their children. (Why have a conversation with your kids when you can feed them audio-visual soma?) TVs in the supermarket distract us from the present reality and immerse us in a virtual reality. Perhaps it's a coping mechanism, a way of escaping the real world.

It's pathological.