Black Friday -- such a joyous name! Sounds more like an Emo band found on the "New Moon" soundtrack, or a disastrous day for the stock market, in which brokers have fistfights to see who gets to jump out the window first.

But no, it's a merry day, the one day when deals cannot possibly get any better in the subsequent history of capitalism -- providing there is such a thing. And it's our solemn duty to participate. It's almost a national holiday now. I expect Thanksgiving to wither away into a meal consumed solely to build strength for clawing through a mob at daybreak.

I have no intention of going to the mall. I will probably end up there anyway, carried off by the surging crowds, feet never touching the ground until I'm deposited 14 miles away in the Ladies' Foundation Garments department. At which point I will be A) irritated, and B) hard-pressed not to admit these are pretty good prices on bras.

But you can't help but feel a bit annoyed by the hype. Yes, we all want retailers to do well. Everyone's reading stories about how this season will be "Dismal" or "Hellish" or "Sluggish," with profit margins smaller than the particles being detected at the Large Hadron Collider. But it's not our fault they try to make all their money at the end of the year. It's like doing all your homework Sunday night. Nice planning.

You may also feel a bit annoyed because you've decided not to participate, and since this day beholds the greatest deals since Manhattan was traded for useless baubles, shouldn't you be at the mall? Buying useless baubles? It's your call, of course, but if you have avoided this day before, let us offer some strategies and revelations.

1. Go early. Note: You're already late. The $99 52-inch LCD flat-screen TV is gone. You can't have it. There were four when the store opened at 4:30 a.m. and a team of battle-hardened shoppers burst through the door, fired a piton into the far wall, set up a rope line, shot over the heads of everyone else using a homemade propulsive device derived from baking soda and vinegar, and secured the TVs before anyone else was halfway down the aisle. You're up against ninjas here. Forget about it.

But don't feel bad. It wasn't that good a TV. Six Japanese executives wept in a press conference, admitting that the contrast settings were poorly calibrated, and three had to be dissuaded from hanging themselves over the non-ergonomic remote. The main reason the TV was offered at all was to get you in the door and make you think about buying a TV at least 7 percent bigger than yours, with more lines of resolution. You have a 720? The clerk spits on your 720! Dude, with a 1080 set, "Transformers 2" is so awesome it gives seizures to people three blocks away.

2. Check your tweets. Many retailers are using "social media" to alert customers that tube socks will be reduced by 12 percent for the next 14 minutes, and you should get to the mall with such haste that you warp space and time.

3. Be polite. It is only proper to remove the barbs from the back of someone you've just Tased because she got the last sale item. Besides, if you don't take them out, you'll just have to drag her to the check-out counter, and she may have more shopping to do.

4. Don't ask. If you ask the clerk "Can I have a rain check?," he may well go out to the loading dock and look at the sky. Well, cloudy, yes, but that's about it. He will have a smoke and maybe update his Facebook page on his mobile. Life goes on, man.

5. Go virtual. If you do your shopping online but would like to experience the joy of a Black Friday pre-dawn panic, press your face against the screen to simulate the sensation of having your face mashed into the door by 500 people behind you.

There. Enjoy, and don't forget to swing by the Salvation Army or the consignment shop on the way home, to drop off the stuff you got last Black Friday. Good luck, and spend, or we will depress you with headlines in January. You'll have only yourself to blame.

jlileks@startribune.com • 612-673-7858