You say: No more buying things no one needs. No more feeding the landfills. No more soulless, injection-molded plastic traveling by ship from sweatshops halfway around the world.

Next year, you say, you’ll find a greener path. You’ll leave a smaller carbon footprint, hand your hard-won wages to local merchants and good causes instead of online retailers and purveyors of injustice.

Right. Sure you will.

Every Christmas morning, as I watch mountains of wrapping paper consumed in the fireplace at the family seat, I consider that there must be a better way to celebrate the holidays.

And then immediately, shamefully, I console myself that there are, in any case, far worse ways. Nothing speaks of indulgence quite so eloquently, for example, as Neiman Marcus’ Christmas Book, that annual gazetteer that documents the dark, glittering heart of our consumer culture. The centerpiece of the Christmas Book is a dozen or so pages of fantasy gifts, incredibly expensive and ridiculous items that you can’t imagine anyone ever purchases—though of course they do.

This year Neiman Marcus touts a portrait for two rendered in chocolate syrup—Bosco, not some cheap no-name barnd—by Vik Muniz. The five-by-four-foot work of art costs $110,000. This weird extravagance has the virtue of being charitable: The proceeds benefit a nonprofit that bring art and social programs to underprivileged kids in Muniz’s native Brazil.

For $75,000 you can have the Swami Conversational Robot, a wizened head inside a crystal ball that will hold conversations with you and your family members. The laptop that houses the swami’s soul is included in the price. Or consider a Vertu Signature phone, encrusted in diamonds set in 18-karat rose gold. It costs $73,000. For $35,000, a noted topiary sculptor will create a giant dragon of the hedge in your yard, with gold-leafed claws.

Starting at $100,000, an interactive media wall: Imagine the thing Tom Cruise plays with in Minority Report. Or a giant iPhone screen. There’s a demonstration video online, but god knows what you can do with the thing besides move digital images around with your fingertips.

For $80,000, you can join activist/adventurer Vico Gutierrez in his two-seater, ultralight airplane as he follows the migration of the endangered monarch butterfly—a 3,000-mile, 10-week journey. Afterward, you get to keep the plane.

For a cool million you can purchase a 300-karat uncut diamond fashioned into a necklace. For $1.59 million, you can invite 500 people to a private concert by the Kirov Orchestra, performing three works: Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker Suite, his Piano Concerto and one more Tchaikovsky piece of your choosing. The renowned Valery Gergiev conducts, Lola Astanova plays the piano—and Regis Philbin is your host. Afterward, you get to keep Astanova’s piano.

If the holidays drive you and your loved one to self-isolation, consider the GEM Triton 1000 Submarine, which will take you to depths of 1,000 feet in two luxury leather seats. The submarine and a two-day training session will cost you $1.44 million.

For $2 million you can buy a rocket racing team—really, apparently there’s some sort of league comprising bored millionaires. Completely outfitted for a year’s competition with ground support, parts and fuel, the liquid-oxygen-fueled rocket travels up to 320 miles per hour, and is tricked out with custom-designed colors and logo. Training for a pit crew and pilots is included. (At these prices, you’ll note, everything is included.)

There is some comfort to be had in Neiman Marcus’s Christmas Book: Somewhere, somebody is wasting more money and despoiling more of the planet’s precious resources than you. But we all can do better than simply not being worse.

We can buy locally, for example, and in the upcoming pages you’ll find plenty of good places to do that, both in the editorial pages and in the advertisements. If you don’t find what you’re looking for in these pages (however unlikely that may seem), visit Buffalo First’s Web site (buffalofirst.org): The year-old organization seeks to promote a regionally focused, sustainable business community by hooking up local buyers with local sellers. This week is Buy Buffalo Week, and the Web site will feature deals, discounts and prizes offered by many of its member businesses.

We can be more aware of the environmental impacts of this consumptive season. A good guide here is provided by Citizens Campaign for the Environment (citizenscampaign.org/holidaygifts). Here you’ll find practical gift ideas that are easy on the environment—like a handcranked cell phone charger or a membership at the Lexington Co-operative Market. You’ll also find good book suggestions and ideas for charitable contributions in lieu of material gifts—maybe not ideal for children, true, but a nice alternative for adults.

On these pages you’ll also find Thanksgiving recipes, unusual cocktails, hangover remedies, elegant gifts that have no social conscience at all—we’re not curmudgeons. In fact, we’re hedonists, who try to indulge our extravagances with an eye on the commonweal, bearing in mind what Rilke says: “…here there is no place/that does not see you. You must change your life.”