Like all those “Housewives of Toad Suck, Arkansas” reality TV shows, capitalism is subject to the immutable and universal laws of unintended consequences.
Take the gun lube market, for instance. We all need it, and presumably, there’s always room for a better mouse grease trap. So, in theory, I have no real problem with the onslaught of miracle gun lube products.
Entrepreneurs everywhere have figured out you can package stuff auto repair shops purchase by pallet-loads of 55-gallon drums into teeny, tiny, plastic bottles with eyedropper attachments and charge a per-ounce price equivalent to platinum, and, these days, gasoline. It is not unusual for a container small enough to legally carry on an airplane to cost $15, $25 or even $40. If a container won’t cause anxiety and suffering among TSA agents, it’s small indeed.