Here's a snippet about the famed college Marxist's trip to the grotesque monstrosity known as "SuperTarget". To bring you up to speed, Dr. P had a careless lapse of memory and had failed to "'requisition'" his "weekly supply of toilet paper from the History Department's custodial closet." Rich (pardon the pun). Bold emphasis mine.
"Reluctantly, in a moment of desperation, I decided to patronize the corporate entity to acquire my much-needed item. Imagine my embarrassment; me, a zealous champion of the dispossessed, having to show my pale, professorial face inside such a temple of consumer culture and commodity fetishism. A wave of nausea washed over me as the automatic doors opened like the gates of some mythological hell and I helplessly inhaled the repugnant stench of the market economy. I'm sure you can pity my poor olfactory system...assailed by the incense of decadent goods and the musk of salacious, capitalist transactions. Oh, the savagery of it all--and to think of the independent proprietors who had been sacrificed on the altar of this behemoth. The corporatist lackeys just slap a fresh coat of paint over the scene of the slaughter and go on as if it's business as usual. It's simply ghastly! But there I was, to my great mortification, among the 'bartering' masses, in one of their depraved houses of worship."