Stuff

The bread is in the dishwasher. The maple syrup can be found in the bottom drawer of the TV console. And our spare keys basically live in the watering can we use for our plants these days. Why the odd assignment of objects to places that they have no business being? Because objects have no contextual meaning to Mylo, their only value lies in how much noise they make when jiggled around, or how well their shape allows them to be perfectly jammed into some other random space. And so there's a wonderful kind of disconnection that forces one to look at everything in a totally different light-- you thought spatula's were used to flip pancakes and were contained in a pot on the kitchen counter? Nonsense! Now they're used to swat living room furniture and they live in your sneakers by the front door!

The daily objects of our lives, the things that we've taken for granted and absentmindedly assigned so much meaning to-- the healthcare bill, Reedu's jewelry, my checkbook-- are wrenched out of context, their intrinsic meaning thrust aside, and used simply as, well, objects. Stuff. The healthcare bill's only value lies in it's existence as a white rectangle with a cellophane window that makes a great noise when you crumple it up. The crystal's on Reedu's jewelry-- passed down from her grandmother-- apparently feel very funny when you put them on your tongue. And my checkbook makes a terrific noise when you tear apart the cardboard box. This is their value, their meaning, their only worth.

The compulsive, orderly side of my brain is, of course, driven mad by this constant chaos. But the other side of my brain (whatever side that is) loves it. All the everyday items that we take for granted, that we have assigned such significance and purpose to have, essentially, been turned on their head. All the stuff has been rendered, simply, as stuff. You thought your belt was perfectly designed to keep up your pants? Silly you! Belts are intended to swing around one's head and drag across the floor in ever increasing circular motions. And they can be found under the dining room table when not in use.

Toothbrush, iPod... need I say more?