And ditto for cluster bombs and the machinery required to administer them. Not forgetting the medical personnel and paraphernalia involved in dealing with the aftermath. No wonder it's called the Gross Domestic Product - the main criterion by which we measure our supposed economic success.
The buoyant arms industries of the respective members of the United Nations Security Council ensure that where there's a will, there's a weapon for the job. And speaking of jobs, look at all the employment it creates. You see, I'm chock-full of the season of goodwill - you might even say I'm grossed out on it. This is not to say that the whole Christmas thing doesn't have its good sides - particularly for the kids. For them, it just seems to be part of the DNA now that there's that one special day on little Planet Earth's 365-day orbit around the sun when a weird, heavily bearded mystical figure touches down and drops off a whole bunch of goodies. Oh the anticipation! Ten sleeps till Christmas - such an eternity! But the bulldust that's now built up around this once quaint and user-friendly little tradition almost defies belief.
Now, actual Christmas Day just seems like a pre-loading event for the additional consumer gorging that's going to happen the next day. The Boxing Day sales - oh, whoopee. First thing Boxing Day, the whole family wades out through the ankle-deep detritus of the previous day's consumer-fest - supposedly in honour of the Son of God - piles into the people-mover and heads for the mall pronto.
After another shopping orgy, maybe they'll follow Miss Earth New Zealand's sterling example and see if they can crack that 100-cheeseburgers-at-a-sitting Everest.
And in a bit of mission creep, the sales that used to be actually just on Boxing Day itself now seem to have spread their dominion - now it's Boxing Day Sales Week. The way things are going, we're going to have a year-long Boxing Day, blessed with living in the land of the permanent sale.
Originally Boxing Day was about the gentry having their domestics make up little boxes of leftovers and miscellaneous baubles for distribution to the parish's less fortunate - the ones that, by and large, their own exploitation had rendered less fortunate. Now, it's the poor and indebted queuing up to purchase the boxes themselves, spiralling into even more indebtedness.
Parents, here's a tip - next festive season, tell the little ones that, unfortunately, Santa's got a hernia and can't make it down the chimney. Plus the power's out and so there's no TV, DVD, and the cellphones can't be recharged.
Then get out the cards and play Happy Families, with a few home-baked goodies on the side. They'll love you for it.
-Frank Greenall has a master's degree in adult literacy and managed Far North Adult Literacy before moving to Whanganui.
