As I sat in my study ruminating on deep and important matters, my wife interrupted me to ask a question.

“You know the question,” she said to me. “It’s the question that drives us. It’s the question that brought you here. You know the question, just as I did.”

My wife knows that I am powerfully attracted to her when she quotes Trinity from The Matrix.

But I digress.  After repeating dialogue from one of my favorite movies, she placed an item in front of me and asked “what does this mean?”

I am going to show you the object and ask you the same question. Here is the object:

What you are looking at is an exact reproduction of an information tag on a pillow my wife purchased.  The questions she asked – that I now ask you – is:

What the f**k does “ALL NEW MATERIALS consisting of TEXTILE FIBERS OF AN UNKNOWN KIND” mean?  Are the people who made this pillow actually saying they don’t know what is in this pillow?

Somebody must know what kind of textile fibers are stuffed into that pillow.

More importantly, why would there be a law that requires a manufacturer of pillow products to inform me that my pillow is filled with a substance that cannot be identified?  How is that supposed to protect – much less reassure -me?

Well, that’s it for me. Like Yobbo, I am out of here.

I am going to find my wife and listen to her as she explains that the Oracle told her she was going to fall in love with me, and then tell me with the very next breath she wants pizza – and I am going to try not to think about the unknown and likely unknowable.



13 Responses to “FEAR OF THE UKNOWN”

  1. “We’re not going to tell you what the f**k is in it, but we PROMISE it won’t kill you…”.


  2. “…really.”


  3. That about sums it up. Yeah.


  4. “Trust us, Paul. Trust us. After all, the government do. Are you saying you don’t trust your government, Paul?. That would be unwise, Paul. Very. Un. Wise”.


  5. Yes, my abnormally large friend, I am saying, without equivocation or hesitancy of any kind, that I do not trust my government any more than I trust a malevolent monkey to drive my car.


  6. “Your IP has been logged, Paul. We WILL be watching. In the mean time, please, enjoy our pillow. Enjoy it, Paul, ENJOY IT”.


  7. I know what those fibres are.
    Oh yeah, did you know we had a minor burger gathering in Sydney last week? Spy Nat, Abe Frellman, Doc Yobbo and myself. It was fun.


  8. Thanks a lot, Therbs, for reminding me that I wasn’t there. You have no idea how aggravating it is for me when I read about what a great time y’all had without me.

    But that is going to change. I am going to arrange a lecture tour that takes me to Sydney, Melbourne and Brisbane – and, if all goes well, Hobart (but only to drink and eat with Flinthart – why else go to Tasmania? I mean, really. Why go there at all?). And all you bastard sons and daughters of transportees all better be available for dinner.


  9. I’ll do my best for the Sydney leg. Well, better than I did for Nat’s visit…social gadfly that I am, I was otherwise engaged that evening (well it was my little bloke’s school bbq, but you know what I mean).

    Don’t worry about the asbestos fibres in the pillow either. I’m sure they are very well sealed in there.


  10. Hobart? Hmm. Wrong end of the isle, of course, but that’s only a geographic embarrassment of perhaps a hundred and eighty of those backwards, primitive units of distance you folk use. I figure if you can come halfway around the world, I can at least organise an expedition the length of the island.

    Those fibers… quite honestly, I wouldn’t use that damned pillow. That’s just weird. I couldn’t sleep on it for wondering what the hell ‘textile fibres of unknown kind’ might be, and what they might do. I mean – I write science fiction, for f**k’s sake. There’s no way I could deal with that much weirdness that close to my brain.


  11. The Tag Police are alive and well…


  12. Paul, we actually talked about how you want to visit and that you dislike taunts about burger gatherings. Hobart is good. It has a fine brewery, a distillery and at the right time of year great crayfish and abalone.

    Launceston is in Flinthart territory and boasts another brewery. In the region there’s wineries. You might even groove on the scenery. You’d probably want to get there before the wood pulp wrecks the Tamar.


  13. Well, PNB, I am assuming that your wife is a law-abiding citizen. If she is indeed a law-abiding citizen, and has removed the tag from the pillow, she would therefore be the consumer.

    So. Did she consume the pillow?


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