While trapped at Groove Toyota waiting for a ride home, I could not avoid “The Price is Right,” which was bombastically glaring and shouting at me. I could not shout back. I could barely think or pray.
I was peering into a phantasmagorical world of worship. People were whipped into an ecstatic frenzy, standing and cheering without shame. Contestants emoted egregiously in anticipation of receiving something for nothing based on their ignorant guesses of the prices of unnecessary objects. They cheered passionately for things to happen over which they have no control: the luck of the draw.
Two female models stood at each side of the mystical dispenser of manna, emanating beauty sheered of personality. They were perfect–and not there.
And a man is paid to be the master of absurdities. Some sad souls watch this by choice, and perhaps worship along with the throbbing throng.