The cluster of throw pillows scattered across one’s bedroom floor.
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Here’s something I don’t get: Throw pillows.
Their purpose is as bewildering as their name, because when you really think about it (as I have) each betrays its own intention…
How can something that’s designed to stay in place and impart a sense of staged and timeless perfection be given a name that essentially insists you hurl it at the nearest person’s face?
This is a linguistic fallacy. Alert the gutter press! Slate! Get started on another of your penetrating think pieces! Pillows: You’re Doing It Wrong!
NB: I, of course, mean “makes one jab a pencil into their eyes, as violent auto-enucleation is preferable to reading yet another goddamn Slate article” when I use the term “penetrating.”
Anyway.
Pillows.
Think about it. Won’t you?
Good reaading
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