I think we can assume that for the last 20 years, the husband of the woman who made this has spent most of his time looking at the sports section, saying “yes, Myrtle” when she stopped talking and her sentence ended on a questioning inflection. She has her crafts. He has his cigars. It works out. Thank God the whole sex thing is over, too.

This is a meat-grinder lamp, friends. See, if you’re lucky enough to have two old-fashioned meat-grinders around, you can make a lamp with the second. But please: take a close look. It’s a canary-yellow meat-grinder mounted on a cheese board. A small landing has been built for a fake bird. The landing is fringed with hanging balls. (As is so often the case.) The landing seems like some sort of spout pouring ground meat into a basic, yielding feral carnivorous daffodils. The lamp’s shade is actually an inverted basket, fringed again with jaundiced monkey-nads.

Note also the absence of a cord. but why would you need a cord? There won’t be electricity in the future after the oil runs out. This will run on oil extracted from soap nubbins. Waste not want not!


HennnnRY! Can you run down to the store? I’m out of ammonia!

Yes, Myrtle.