An axe is a minimalist’s best friend. Chopping up unwanted furniture might be the first thing that springs to mind, but the uses are endless. Self defense, Halloween costumes, bar fights, fishing, landscaping, manscaping, the list goes on. I use mine for, among other things, shaving and pest control. No, I don’t chase mice around the house with an axe above my head like a madman. I wait until they are caught in the live trap before finishing the job “execution style”.
It might seem counter intuitive that minimalists, a people devoted to having less, would need a bronze age tool used for deforestation and executions, but that’s the beauty of it. The axe is a tool used for minimizing. In the past it was used to minimize forests and (often) live bodies, but it can be just as effective at minimizing other things as well. Couches, for example.
Before we go any further: what is an axe? I’m not talking about a foot long, plastic handled, on sale for 12.99 at Walmart, bring-to-the-cub-scout-campout hatchet. I mean an honest to god axe, made out of a polished hickory stock and carefully tapered iron. A real axe looks dangerous. If you couldn’t bring it into your office without getting raised eyebrows and a meeting with HR, it’s not the real thing.
How to Use Your Axe
In a lot of scenarios it’s just not feasible to burn unwanted junk. You might not have room for a fire, or the object might be too big to move outside. This is where an axe comes in handy. If you can’t burn it, chop it up.
You can split that smelly old ottoman into manageable chunks and get a good workout, all in just a few minutes. An old bookshelf that won’t fit through the door? Axe to the rescue. Dead family pet that you need to feed down the garbage disposal before the kids get home? Use the axe to chop it into manageable pieces (tip: cover with a plastic tarp to reduce splatter).
Last weekend my wife was out of town when I realized that the new sectional she purchased was ugly, and distracted people from the beauty of the bare floorboards. It was too big to move by myself, and I sure as heck wasn’t going to burn it in the house. Luckily there was another solution.
After a few minutes with my trusty Hults Bruk it was reduced to a giant pile of splintered particle board and gashed cushions. Sure, It was a lot of work to chop it up, move all the pieces outside, burn the pieces, then vacuum up any remaining traces, but it was good, honest, work. The kind that makes a man proud to wipe the sweat off of his brow.
The axe is a versatile tool with uses far beyond pure destruction. For example, it is perfect for killing bugs that crawl into hard to reach areas, like your girlfriend’s collection of Disney princess themed fine china that she refuses to move from the mantle. Have a large cutting board that needs to be resized? Only one tool can cut the cutting board.
The greatest use for an axe, however, is not on ugly couches, dead pets, or ex-girlfriends tires. There is one soul sucking piece of furniture that demands destruction above all else. The very existence of one of these in your house is reason alone to own an axe. What could possibly be this horrible? No, not a Panini Press, I’m talking about television, the opiate of the masses and scourge of minimalism.
The Scourge of Minimalism
My friends and followers, if you have gained nothing from the wisdom contained in my words, hear this: nothing is more satisfying than putting an axe through a television. Sex, heroin, cocaine, amphetamines, group sex, ecstasy, molly, khat, krocodile, snoopy doops – trust me, I’ve tried them all, and nothing compares to the satisfaction of driving that finely forged iron head through the smooth surface of a giant flat screen TV.
For a minute, envision that you are in heaven, wrapping a present for God himself. It’s a self help book about meditating twice a day, but that’s not important right now. Imagine slowly gliding a pair of scissors through the wrapping paper, with Buddha looking on, holding the little pieces of scotch tape. That smooth tingling sensation you feel as the paper seamlessly parts for the blade is but a taste of the joy that is smashing a TV.
Join the Revolution
Right about now you might feel ashamed for owning a television. Fret not. The axe represents redemption, a chance for all the sheep who have strayed from the flock to come home. Go online and order an axe right now. Then, share the news on social media. Let everyone know that the prodigal son is coming home.
When your axe arrives, behold the beauty of its deadly design. Gently caress the finely tapered blade as you contemplate the victory of iron will over insidious materialism. Finally, savor the moment as you slowly lift it to the sky, then bury its head into the screen, again and again. And again. And again, until all but scars in the wall remain.
Rejoice, as your life has finally turned toward the light.
Those who have walked the straight and narrow face and even larger task. You the redeemers must use your axe to liberate the minds of your friends and family. Leave no screen untouched as you wage a crusade of violence against their diabolical technology. Eventually they will thank you, even if you have to liberate several televisions in the process.
The destruction of a television is the death of materialism and the triumph of the mind, represented with one graceful swing of the blade. The revolution is here now, waiting for you to join. All you need is an axe.