Terry Sarten: Money or stuff can't buy me love

A disturbing vision of a future filled with naff stuff flashes before you. Tis the season of stuff.

There is so much of it out there. Example: Life-size plastic red squirrel that cracks nuts and jokes when you pull its tail. There will be someone for whom this will be the perfect Christmas present. As they rip off the final bit of wrapping paper, they will proclaim it to be the most absolutely wonderful thing.

If however, as the receiver of this gift, you never aspired to owning such a thing, then you have the Great Christmas Dilemma.

Do you thank the giver, saying it is exactly what you always wanted, while you panic? Will they believe you and buy your something equally odd next year? A disturbing vision of a future filled with naff stuff flashes before you.

You could get rid of it on the internet but worry the giver might see it and buy it thinking you might like a matching pair! There is bound to be an etiquette rule for such situations.

My answer would be to free-style your response. Use a mix of the genuine smile with gentle laughter while passing it immediately to the nearest small child who will be fascinated and quite possibly break it.

The season of stuff, as apart from the season of goodwill, is hard to avoid. We are surrounded by a constant clamour of wants, needs, likes and loves with the place of these on the continuum of desires being shifted about by advertising. I became aware that we have reached a critical point when watching a car ad on TV recently. The voice-over proclaimed in syrupy tones that you will not only love this car but that it will love you back.

This was alarming for two reasons. One is the blatant theft of the concept of love; the other is touting the proposition that an inanimate object can love you back. As regular readers of my column will know, I have a strong aversion to the indiscriminate use of the word "love" in songs and advertising. There is just too much of it about.

The overuse of this valuable piece of emotional currency is reducing its face value to the point where it is at risk of becoming virtually useless as a meaningful expression of feeling. (I don't mean there is too much love about - the world needs as much of this as we can muster)

The blurring of like and love into interchangeable states is undermining our relationship with stuff.

We can like stuff. I like my beautiful guitar. I enjoy playing it and the wonderful warm tone it generates. I have no idea whether it likes me - especially when trying to master complex and technically challenging chord sequences but I do not love my guitar. It is an object and most certainly does not love me.

We do need to be wary of advertising and its constant pushing of boundaries. The manipulation and subversion of concepts such as love are dangerous to our emotional well-being. The deliberate use of language and nuance to mix the relative values attached to words such as "want, need, like and love" can steal their relative value, draining the power of human emotions and creating a shallow pool of clichés and advertising slogans that lack depth and meaning. As we enter the season of stuff, it may help to remember the Christmas story and why we like cake but love our children.

Terry Sarten is a parent, writer, musician and social worker who likes living in Whanganui. Email: tgs@inspire.net.nz