An outbreak of seasonal goodwill is not quite what you’d expect among the pushy crowds on Oxford Street in the madcap run-up to Christmas in London.
But there they were, no less than 300 members of a virtual cult called Join Me, bringing Saturday shopping to a standstill as they hand out gift-wrapped presents by the hundreds to surprised passers-by.
”I asked everyone to bring two presents,” explained Danny Wallace, freelance comedy writer, broadcast producer, founder of Join Me and mastermind of what he calls the ”Karmageddon”.
”I gave out a tiny football, a whopee cushion, a small plastic squirrel and a small laser gun suitable for a child,” said Wallace.
”It was something Ive wanted to do for a while, and it seemed the right time to do it with Christmas coming up. Its like playing a prank — but the victim benefits.”
Wallace (27) a slightly gawky man with thick glasses and an anorak, is a most unlikely cult leader, but that’s exactly what he is.
Join Me boasts more than 4 000 members, all dedicated to performing random acts of kindness to strangers. It’s the improbable outcome of an experiment in human gullibility.
Two years ago Wallace attended the funeral of a great-uncle, Gallus Breitenmoser, in Switzerland. There, Wallace learnt that Breitenmoser had tried to start a large commune on a farm just after World War II. Only three people signed up.
That got Wallace thinking, and back in London he decided to place an advertisment in a newspaper, asking people to join him and send in a passport-sized photograph of themselves.
To his surprise, people responded, mostly out of curiosity.
Wallace then set up a website (www.join-me.co.uk) and soon found himself the leader of a fully fledged cult — although he prefers to call it a collective — with about 100 members.
In true post-modern fashion, however, the movement lacked a purpose, and the ”joinees” were growing restless. So Wallace struck upon the idea of instructing members to carry out ”random acts of kindness”, initially on Fridays.
The notion took off, and Wallace says members have performed over 100 000 good deeds.
They buy drinks for old men in pubs. They pay for your tea and coffee before you have the chance to get your wallet out. They leave cakes anonymously on doorsteps. And they give away presents.
Wallace has written a book about the experience, titled Join Me: The True Story of a Man Who Started a Cult By Accident.
Its been a modest success in Britain, and comes out in the United States in March 2004.
”I wasn’t trying to make a point, but there is a real barrier to talking to strangers,” said Wallace, putting his finger on one of the less attractive characteristics of living in London.
”I think people are essentially good, but they need an excuse.
At first it was a bit of a joke, but now people get a sense of satisfaction out of it, and it’s fun. There’s something appealing about it, and everyone buys into the same spirit.”
”When people do these acts of kindness,” he added, ”they get a real buzz out of it.”
”They get addicted to it. The Karmageddon on Oxford Street was a way of doing something slightly cheeky to recreate that feeling en masse, as a shared experience. We created a positive energy, everyone was so friendly, and for the most part there wasn’t too much suspicion.”
There can be, however, a fair bit of confusion on the receiving end.
Miriam Makinde from London was shopping for shoes for her sons Dami (11) and James (8,) when she was handed a gift-wrapped present, a book. ”What a nice idea,” said Makinde. ”It’s definitely something I would do myself.”
But not everyone was won over. Miriam Moussaoui (13) was out with a friend shopping for Christmas presents when they received five gifts — Wallace’s book, some soap, two bars of chocolate and some red Christmas tree decorations.
”They could just be acting nice,” said Moussaoui with a bit of suspicion. ”You don’t know that they are nice.”
Gathered in a pub later in the afternoon, the Join-ees displayed all the characteristics of being nice.
Holly Peck (28) from London, joined in August after reading Wallace’s book.
”I thought its just such a lovely idea, its so nice, especially living in London, where everybody’s on the defensive,” she said.
”Its nice to do happy things. It’s not about going to meetings.
You just join and then do what you want — and every now and again you get together and get drunk.”
Rob Clarke (30) also from London, joined Join Me in September. He bought two lottery tickets to hand out, making a point of not taking the numbers down in case they were winners.
”When you do something for someone, they look really confused and then they really smile,” he said. ”Every day now I’m being more friendly, and you feel more confident knowing that there are lots of people doing the same.” – Sapa-AFP