The need to feel flat is universal. Our bodies are
hills and valleys, ports and outposts, heartlands and extremities. But all this
beautiful geography we cover each day with a selection of arty maps. The
flatter the map the better, many even dressing for flatterers, such is their
straight out-there belief in flat. We have a device to satisfy the need for
flatness. Sight of a basket full of wrinkles gets it steamed up, the way
November anticipates Christmas: a worthwhile job that must be done. It nudges
daintily around buttons and zips, presses home. It has all points covered.
No comments:
Post a Comment