Keep Control.


I stayed at my dad's last night. I've never seen so many remote controls in my life.


I’d expect the average front room to contain a few, but not as many as six. That’s one for every day of the week except the Sabbath; the only instance when this wouldn’t be regarded as a day of rest.

Six in one room is pure decadence. Particularly in such a small space: in most cases, it’s probably easier to reach for the switch on the appliance than it is to go for the remote. Nothing can be that remote in a 12’ x 9’ room.

Perhaps they're my dad’s personal weakness; like Imelda Marcos with shoes. Or he might have not got around to throwing some old ones out. Maybe one makes the walls spin around to reveal a games room, or a secret lair.

I've always suspected my dad was an evil genius.

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