Black Friday isn’t a holiday, it’s a heist. A glittery, discount-code-waving distraction where billionaires convince you that buying a $12 toaster you don’t need is a victory.
Spoiler: The only people winning are the ones who already have more money than God.
Jeff Bezos doesn’t need your $12. But the local bookstore? Your favorite indie artist? The weird little shop down the street that sells handmade candles that smell like a vacation in Scandinavia? They do.
Every dollar you spend at a corporate monolith is a dollar extracted from your community. It’s a vote for a world where Main Street looks like a ghost town and your social media feed is just ads instead of fun.
But every dollar you spend at a small business? That’s a dollar going toward someone’s rent. For the barista’s poetry habit or the cartoonist’s art supply. It’s a dollar that says, "I’d rather live in a world where people thrive than where billionaires buy themselves another yacht."
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