I know this because you are not living your lives by his teachings.

Personal consumption in the US increased in the latest month, according to the US Department of Commerce, the ninth increase in the last 10 months. Luxury home sales are up. Luxury car sales are up.

Furthermore, you people are all working harder. According to the Federal Reserve your productivity has actually increased 2.8%. Congratulations. Your efforts have raised Warren Buffet’s net worth by 2.8%.

To paraphrase Tyler, my conclusion is that you people continue to chase cars and clothes, working jobs you hate so you can buy s**t you don't need.

Oddly, the government seems to consider this data to be GOOD news. Go figure.

All this AFTER I wrote the first column! Very frustrating. Apparently Tyler and I still have a great deal of work to do. Unfortunately Tyler is dead, and fictional to boot. So I guess it’s up to me.

As I sit here typing on my sleek and stylish ThinkPad laptop computer, one of three in the house, my cat is snoozing on the Victorian wing-backed chair on the other side of our eclectically decorated living room. Behind her is the library / music room where we display all of the books we want people to know we have read. There is also a painting, an authentic original work by an obscure Chinese artist, a testament to our impeccable taste and global connections. In the driveway are three cars, 50% more than the number of licensed drivers who live here.

In short my life is tidy, peaceful, and chock full of conspicuous consumption.

I am the man Tyler mocks. I am the character who walks though his home as the prices and descriptions of his perfect furnishings appear on the screen, as if he’s walking through an IKEA catalogue. He asks himself “what kind of dining set defines me as a person?”

A short time later he looks in his refrigerator and finds it empty except for a bottle of ketchup and random sauces. He remarks, “How embarrassing. A house full of condiments with no food.” This is a metaphor of his life; lots of sugary decorations that cover over the fact that there is nothing of substance underneath.

“This is your life, and it’s ending one minute at a time.”

Each night when I tuck my children into bed I pray that they will be brave. I want them to somehow miraculously avoid the pervasive fear that has afflicted our culture. Fear neuters us. It keeps us from doing things we were made to do, things we know we should be doing, even things we WANT to do.

"On a long enough time line the survival rate of everybody drops to zero."

Moreover, fear causes us to pursue strange things. Like the perfect dining set. Or a house that’s too big for our family and our belongings. And more cars than fit in the driveway.

“(We’re) polishing the brass on the Titanic. It’s all going down, man.”

Even those of us who claim to have a “personal relationship” with the Creator of the universe seem to think there is security in possession, (along with healthy balances in our brokerage accounts, college savings, and 401k’s). It’s as if we don’t really believe the Gospel, and we’re hedging our bets just in case He isn’t really out there.

“It’s only after you’ve lost everything that you are free to do anything.”

As citizens of the wealthiest society in the history of the world, we need to be reminded that the stuff we think we want, the stuff we think defines us and gives our lives meaning, can be dangerous. It keeps us fearful: fearful of losing it, of having it all taken away. And this fear keeps us from being blessings to the world.

“We're consumers. We are by-products of a lifestyle obsession. Murder, crime, poverty, these things don't concern me. What concerns me are celebrity magazines, television with 500 channels, some guy's name on my underwear. Rogaine, Viagra, Olestra.”

Is anybody else out there ready to throw it all away and do something truly extraordinary with your life?

“Any Christian who is not a hero is a pig.” – Leon Bloy