'Tis the season to celebrate the triumph of commercialism - the fruits of our business propaganda system, which really flexes its muscle during the holiday season; a time when Madison Avenue dream-makers convince even "Bible-believing" Christians to mix holy worship with the profane workings of mindless consumerism.

We get all hot and bothered if there's a suggestion, or objection, to placing a religious symbol in a public place. But we barely make a peep in the face of businesses exploiting a holy day in order to boost profits. Orwell would be impressed.

How is this conditioning carried out? Primarily through commercials and advertisements, which also happen to be the source of income and profits for news organizations.

Being in the newspaper business, maybe I should keep my mouth shut. As they say, never bite the hand that feeds you. But what do you do about the other hand - the one that repeatedly smacks you in the head on a daily basis?

As if the millions of hours of commercials we've watched over the years isn't enough, we get harassed by telemarketers. We get deluged with junk mail. We get spammed and pummeled with pop-up ads. You can even get smacked in the face with a commercial while pumping gas.

For years, many of us considered it part of the unwritten social contract in America that if you're paying to see a movie, there's no need for commercials. I mean, that's what makes cable movie channels so appealing. But now, when you go to the movies, you're likely to see a commercial. And I'm not talking about movie previews or images of popcorn and soda. I've seen a car commercial before a movie - a movie I spent an arm and leg on to enjoy commercial-free.

We even have commercials in schools now.

These days, there's more commercials on commercial music radio than there is music. Even NPR has commercials. Such and such is brought to you by the such and such foundation.

In the world of sports, commercials reign. Half-times, time-outs - all brought to you by some corporation. Some taxpayer-funded stadiums bear the name of corporations and their logos.

Undoubtedly, commercials wield tremendous powers of influence. How many product brand names have we come to associate with the generic product itself? Gelatin is Jell-O, no matter who makes it. Is it petroleum jelly or Vaseline? Isn't Kleenex a synonym for tissue?

One thing almost all commercials have in common is the subtle promotion of an affluent lifestyle. No matter what product is being hawked, the people being depicted using the product are almost always affluent.

If a woman is washing dishes at the kitchen sink, take a look at the house in the background. Probably goes for a half a mil on the real estate market. A guy in a commercial is getting cable. The apartment he's in has a $5,000 flat-screen HDTV and the living room looks like something you'd see on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

Haven't political campaigns been reduced to who has the best marketing strategy? How much does war rest on marketing? Now that we've shocked and awed "them," now we've got to "win their hearts and minds." Sounds like a great commercial.

Does it really surprise you that we have biblical debates about abortion and gay marriage but never even discuss the biblical concept of economic justice like the "jubilee," or "gleaning," or God's disdain for those who live high off the hog because they charge the working poor usurious interest rates?

I know, I know. Business propaganda in America? Propaganda is something only our enemies use. "It could never happen here," which is what all empire-builders and naive suburbanites convince themselves of before reality comes crashing in.

So, as bargain hunters beat their feet back to the stores to start next year's shopping early, allow me to tip my hat to the geniuses behind "the American dream" - the minions of Madison Avenue and advertising executives everywhere.

You've come a long way, baby. The ad world once consisted of witty slogans like the kind pragmatic philosopher John Dewey's father hung in his general store window - "hams and cigars: smoked and unsmoked."

Now, instead of wit, we've got sleek subtlety and cutting-edge cunning. Holiday cheers to Madison Avenue. Cue Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World." It gets 'em all mushy inside.

Sean Gonsalves is a Cape Cod Times staff writer and a syndicated columnist. His column runs on Tuesdays.

© 2004 Cape Cod Times

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