By D. Harlan Wilson
There is a blanket on the couch. The blanket is hairy. It also has a mouth
containing a tongue and several sharp fangs. Some people think it is an animal.
Every now and then a person will sit down on the couch and pet it or try to
feed it a piece of meat. The blanket never reacts. It doesn’t go “Mmm” when
it is petted, and it doesn’t gobble up victuals that are offered to it.
It is a lazy blanket and all it really wants to do is loaf and take up space
and contemplate its existence. “I loaf,” it thinks, “therefore
I am.” This and numerous other minimalist meditations occupy the consciousness
of the blanket for 96.2% of its waking life. It is safe to assume that the
other 3.8% of its time is spent thinking about breasts.