by Warren Wigutow
I want to begin my stint as a blogger by illustrating some basic distinctions. You are here because for some inexplicable reason you have an itch. This itch is insidious and can only be relieved by scanning the products of maladjusted would be architects, artists and engineers to see what they’ve done lately with chunks of heath tree root. Conversely, I am here because I’m curious to see what drives you, what nurtures your malady and exacerbates this concupiscence. This is purely scientific.
I have, on occasion, again for purely scientific reasons, purchased an artisan-made pipe. I find it gratifying to see how some cloistered theologian is working out great cosmic themes by grinding away at dense root balls until an aesthetically pleasing tube for collecting spit and char is born. My skepticism regarding the great mysteries is rewarded in this way. I have no need to photograph my prizes and to lord them over those less facile with the “buy it now” button. It is enough for me to know that no one else has the calm detachment I possess. I merely study the phenomena. I do not participate in it.
It is from this position of distance and objectivity that I can deliver the results of my observations. I can tell you the precise ratio of air to particulates that transverses the shank of your Kent (for a price). If your Ismir to Samsun polarity is askew with regard to conical profile of your Dancing Dublin’s chamber, I will not mock you, but merely make a note of it.
In short, I do not want any of you to feel as though you are stains on the microscopic slides of pipe scrutiny. I am here to help you. I have no need to own these effete, wooden sippy straws. I have them because it is my mission to understand what motivates all of you. If I choose to sell my silver fillings and back issues of Buffy and Angel Collector’s Magazine in order to finance the purchase of the only Revyagin pipe in existence that has no tobacco chamber or stem (this delivers a particularly cool smoke), it is because of my insatiable need to know why you would do the same thing if you were fortunate enough to find yourselves in my shoes. But alas, you are not in my shoes. You are caught on this hamster wheel of acquisition and proprietorship. I peer through the bars of the cage with both a sense of sympathy and of genuine superiority and it is because of this that your salvation is at hand.
As you peruse the offerings here, I want you to feel twinges of guilt and paranoia. Do not let the sinuous lines of that Knets fool you. It is just a pipe. It could turn out that I might need it for study anyway. It is imperative that you hang on every word I write in upcoming posts for only in this way will you come to understand yourselves and the vicious condition that has overcome you.