Hey there, hi. You know your hot take of sh*tting on Marie Kondo and her whole “spark joy” movement to declutter our homes, and how it’s stupid?! Your cute Twitter takes that are vaguely steeped in misogyny/xenophobia? Yeah, those are boring, Chad. We get it. You’re above keeping your home clean and tidy. Bleach is for suckers and for making rad acid-washed dad jeans unless Jordan Peterson tells you otherwise.
Books, you L-O-V-E B-O-O-K-S! Shout it from the rooftop, that lady can pry your well-worn copy of Lolita out of your cold, dead hands. Literature is important, and Marie Kondo knows not of what she speaks! “F*ck you, Kondo, I embrace the written word!” you think to yourself every time you walk past your cluttered, dusty bookshelf. It’s not for show, friend, it’s for life!
Only if you really did love books, you probably would have been aware of Marie Kondo before her show hit Netflix, because “Spark Joy” has been in our national lexicon for a few years now, you know, because she wrote two best-selling books about it. So obviously most of those beloved books are for show—and you, like many others out there, just waited for the movie/TV show before you formed an opinion (Pro tip: any reader can tell you that the book is almost always superior to the movie/show.)
That’s OK, I have a few books for show, too. Like my copy of Atlas Shrugged that my not-so-well-meaning friend gifted to me for reasons entirely his own (he knew that I would not enjoy a 1,000 page plus tome of how to be selfish. I live in LA, I know how to embrace that, friend) that I use as a coaster and occasionally rip pages out of to pick up errant pieces of cat sh*t that sometimes make it out of the litter box.
Wait, you didn’t know about Kondo’s book because you don’t read *gasp* books written by women?! All your leather-bound classic are by manly men authors like Hemmingway, Steinbeck, and the man himself, Jordan Peterson! Excuse me, friend—I didn’t realize I was dealing with a packrat AND a literary scholar!
Please allow me to backtrack and extend my deepest apologies. Your hot takes on your BOOKS! and Marie Kondo aren’t the rantings of an uninformed misogynist, they are the lyrical accompaniment to the soundtrack of humanity. You are our bard and our scribe, and it is your noble duty to protect the BOOKS! from the insidious threat that is Marie Kondo and her desire for us to have a comfortable, clutter-free home that in no way impacts your day-to-day existence other than that other people are getting satisfaction and enjoyment out of decluttering their home.
I really appreciate you taking the time out of your day to screech into the void of the internet to defend your BOOKS! and their honor—I see now that they are unread and untouched because you’re vigilantly preserving their structure for the generations to come. I mean, not your own, because let’s be honest, you’ll never know the touch of a woman (or man, if that’s your bag, but something tells me your deep-seated rage wouldn’t allow you to explore that option, friend.) Who, if not you, will ensure that the Tucker Max oeuvre is preserved for the next generation of neckbeard edgelords to come?!
You’re doing God’s work—and I’m sure your 14 followers appreciate your attacking of Kondo, daily. I can’t come personally thank you, because I have a dust allergy and I’m convinced vermin love to live in tightly packed unwashed spaces like your own, but I’ll extend a slow clap and a tip of my own fedora to you, sir. Jordan Peterson is proud, and that’s all the thanks you ever really need, isn’t it?
Header Image Source: Netflix