Sich Ein|Shranken - To Register

We’re prompted to register almost every product we buy, regardless of how small and insignificant. The big companies want to make you feel like you’re a member of their special elite club, and that by not sending them your personal details, you’ll be missing out some truly life-changing or fortune-saving opportunities. The reality is however, and you’re basically a complete chump if you haven’t figured this out already, they’re only taking your info so they can sell you more of their shit, or sell them on to other parties who’ll attempt to sell you even more shit. Whenever you’re signing up for something or making a purchase online, almost without fail you’ll be asked if not only you wouldn’t mind their own marketing department sending you ‘very important offers’, but also their ’carefully selected partners’ too, which I translate to mean the highest fucking bidder. So many programs you have on your computer incessantly ask you whether you want to enrol in their special members club for free, ’It’ll just take a few minutes,’ that frankly are better spent not helping someone peddle shit at you. The more desperate companies will start to offer expensive prizes as bait to lure you in, but reading the small print you quickly discover that the surround-sound, massively pimped-up plasma TV audio-visual orgasm is actually the prize for several other different competitions and really your chances of winning are slimmer than an anorexic schoolgirl during Ede. Anyway, I’m ranting away and it’s getting late. The main point is that registering with a company is probably meaningless, but given I’ve never done it, I can’t say for sure. That’s not even funny. And it should be. But it isn’t. It’s time to abort. I’m using my ejector seat to get out of this literally air-disaster before this crashes to the ground leaving no linguistic survivors. Too late.