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Does your hand clutch reflexively for the wastebasket when you encounter an invitation for a "21-day free trial period"? Do you feel a numbing sensation when confronted by a hysterical series of !!!!! or uppercased exhortations: THIS IS YOUR CHANCE!!!!! ONLY YOU CAN HELP!!!!! ORDER NOW!!!!! ? Have you begun to regard with suspicion bordering on paranoia every piece of mail marked OFFICIAL or V*A*L*U*A*B*L*E D*O*C*U*M*E*N*T*S I*N*S*I*D*E? Do the words "You May Already Have Won . . ." provoke in you an overwhelming desire to nuke the mailman?

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The flood has already begun, and in this holiday season it will be greater than ever. During the past year, 63.7 billion pieces of third-class mail found their way into mailboxes across the nation. For tens of millions of Americans, the seasonal tide, as faithful as the first snow or the appearance of tinsel and colored lights, has started to rise. Letter boxes are filled to bursting with envelopes of every size and color, living rooms and kitchens are suddenly cluttered with mail on all available surfaces, and wastebaskets are overflowing with the sale not made.

The producers of this mountain of missives call it direct mail or mail order. The U.S. Postal Service refers to the onslaught as "bulk business mail." But to most people the deluge of material that descends on them each year is just plain junk mail, a typically American sobriquet that recognizes its vast and disorderly variety, its cheeky aggressiveness and its easy ability to raise hackles. Whatever its name, it is an extraordinary by-product of democratic civilization. Catalogs, catalogs, catalogs. Political flyers. Charitable solicitations. Environmental entreaties (on recycled paper, naturally). Sweepstakes packets. Magazine subscription offers. Investment brochures. Anything-of-the-month promotions. Coupons. Shopping guides. Freebie newspapers. Gewgaw samples.

And yet this vast variety is regarded by its recipients with ambivalence, not to say schizophrenia. The plain fact is that Americans love the stuff as much as they hate it. Last year 92 million Americans responded to direct- market pitches, a 60% jump in just six years. According to Marketing Logistics of Lincolnshire, Ill., a direct-marketing publisher, a grand total of $183 billion was shelled out for mail-order purchases and donations. Curse it though Americans may, the great outpouring of third-class communication can provide an antidote to loneliness, access to hard-to-find goods and a convenient answer to a housebound or time-pressed shopper's prayers. Careful study of this stack offers a handy citizen's guide to the most urgent political, environmental and social issues of the day. Cast in the best light, direct mail is the great American transcontinental linkup. It binds one nation, under Ed McMahon, indivisible, with bonus coupons and toll-free shopping for all.