Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Tuesday Is Recycling Day
Because you knew he wouldn't stop at trying to right the wrongs of the world's vacuum cleaners and has now turned his laser-like focus to correcting that apparently inadequate fan in the corner of your living room, I have to bring this sucker back.
"Mr. Clean" (Originally Published, 3.8.08)
Am I the only one who thinks James Dyson is completely insane?
The commercials for his technologically advanced vaccums, which feature him unabashedly flaunting his nearly DSM4-level obsession with cleanliness and order, always strike me as, well, a little unsettling.
"I just want things to work properly," he says with Queegian deliberateness, seemingly stunned as to why most vacuum cleaners are unable to subvert the immutable law of utilitarian degradation.
He admits without so much as a hint of bemusement that his life's work has been a fanatical, Frankenstein-like quest to recreate both the vacuum cleaner and the hand dryer in his own image and, consequently, fulfill a vendetta against the technology which long ago let him down and left his carpets unclean and his hands wet.
Look beyond the sedate demeanor and the soothing voice and you can practically hear him saying, "Fools! They laughed at me when I said that vacuums didn't have to lose suction! Who's laughing now, Hoover?!" Like a mad scientist who fancies himself one of the Pythagorean Mathematikoi -- and who in reality likely suffers from a very acute case of Asperger Syndrome -- he feels the need to constantly demonstrate just how he's reinventing the wheel and how it will eventually help him win the compulsive lifelong war he's waged against the constraints of basic physics.
I get the feeling that if you ever read Yeats to him, particularly the poet's seminal notion that "things fall apart... the center cannot hold... mere anarchy is loosed upon the world," he would likely explode in an uncontrollable fit of violent rage, grabbing the nearest sharp object and plunging it into your throat again and again. This would be followed by his spending the ensuing several hours desperately attempting to build a new wet-dry vac capable of expurgating the mess and returning everything to a place of immaculate order.
Really, though, you've got to give credit to a guy who not only puts his neuroses out there for the world to see, but also uses them as a marketing tool to make him a millionaire.
I wish I were that crazy.