It had been an unusually mild winter, and as he walked down the street, he noticed the vendors were out in full force, as were the jiggling breasts, and the excessive skin displays were everywhere one looked. It might as well be summer in New York City. He had only to look at them, and he could feel the disgust welling up inside of him. There seemed to be no respect for the sacred vessel anywhere he looked. Everyone seemed to have forgotten his or her proper place in the world.
To make matters worse, the sheer excess of their rampant materialism surround him as well, the images created by highly skilled marketing firms, bombarded and overwhelmed his cerebral cortex. Even he was feeling the pressure of the ethic “you must make more, you must buy more,†and he was worried that he may somehow be corrupted by it all.

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