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But wait, there's more.
There's just no polite way to say "Buy me things", is there?
Need a band name?
rant is where the heart is
entry for 2001-08-03 (10:23:00)
In which our plucky young hero learned nothing (nothing!) from Fight Club.
IKEA, you kea, we all kea for ice kea.
I needed a few end tables for the apartment, so I placed a phone order with everyone's favorite Swedish corporate monolith (in oak or birch veneer or blue, black, or white finish). The two tables look somewhat like this item, except with a square top and in black. They are utterly characterless, and I love them.
There are two reasons mere end tables can win my undying love even when I still can't convince myself I really want a cat. The first is that these things are cheap. Even including usurious delivery charges, each table cost less than thirty dollars. I've yet to find similar tables (and I'm not even talking nice similar, merely elevated surface for a lamp similar) in the local furniture stores for less than $40.
The second reason, the other reason if you will, is that I really have a thing against antiquity. I don't know exactly why, but I really, really, really hate stuff that looks old. I've got a bookshelf that looks like it was built sometime in the late 70s, just because of the tapered shape of the legs on it, and I despise it. I think it cheapens the whole look of the place. (I overlook the fact that it fights tooth and nail for the Most Cheapening Thing title with the couch, the chair, the kitchen set, and the oven.) IKEA stuff is timeless, neither here nor there, neither Logan's Run nor Star Trek. As I said: characterless. It is Rorschach furniture, taking on the character of the person who looks at it.
Or maybe not. Man, if I analyze like this over an end table, I'd hate to think what I'd do with a dinner table.(Browse: previous or next. Notes: post or read.)
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