by Garrison Frost

1.
I began to worry about the stuff, not in the cutesy way that George Carlin rhapsodized about all of his stuff, but genuine worry, fear that the objects in my life were beginning to define me, shape my actions. I resolved to divest. I sought freedom though non-possession. I wanted to emulate those interior design magazines where no house contains a coffee mug, notepad or odd statue from oneís parents that they picked up on their trip to somewhere that you just canít bring yourself to throwing away.

But how does one decide what stays and what goes? Objects are necessary, after all. Food is an object. So is my computer. And so is my toaster. Must I evaluate everything individually as to its contribution to my life or was there another way?

After considering this question for, oh, about fifteen minutes, I began to form the basis of my Theory of Things, which in actuality is quite simple. According to the Theory of Things, there are really only three different categories of objects: tools, art and things. And under this theory, tools and art are really the only objects worth keeping around. Things must not be allowed into one's life. And any things that are already there must go.

2.
It is not hard to grasp the concept of what a tool is. Without bothering to reference Webster, I would define a tool as anything necessary to achieve other ends. Tools in the sense of the Theory of Things are defined as anything necessary to achieve another, worthy end. Something you use to achieve an unworthy end would be defined as a thing, which I will get to later.

Our worlds, then, are full of tools. The computer is a tool. A chair is a tool, as is the toaster, the automobile, the floor lamp and the shirt on your back.

In a way, tools are the best of all the objects, because they require our interaction. They encourage us to engage in action verbs—to make, build, grow, create, learn, etc.—all things that define the human condition.

It is also useful to consider things that arenít tools. A television is a tool as long as it is used to enrich or learn. If youíre wasting away hours watching sitcoms, your television is not a tool, it is a thing. Same with your car. If your car is primarily a mode of transportation, adequate to your needs, then it is a tool, a great tool. But if your car serves your ego more than your transportation needs, then it is a thing.

3.
Art is anything that appeals to our aesthetic sense, our sense of beauty. Objects of art, then, are extremely important to our sense of humanity. Art is in itself a worthy end.

That said, we shouldnít allow pointless things in our lives under the guise of art. In a very limited sense, the television could be seen as a form of art, but we should be honest with ourselves in assessing the artistic value of what's on the tube. Our collection of bottle caps is another example. If it is indeed a material way to gain insight on whom we are, then perhaps it is art. If it is merely a pile of crap sitting in a drawer that we hold on to for god knows what reason, then it is merely an assemblage of things.

4.
Then there are the things. While we could sit around and argue for days about what is and isn't a tool, we know a thing right when we see it. It is the object with no purpose: the jacket in the closet that we never liked and doesnít fit anyway, the broken chair in the garage, the kitchen utensil for which we canít identify a function. We should regularly inspect our inventory of possessions for things that have quietly crept into our lives. And creep they will. Without our knowing, these things will fill up our drawers and closets, take up space in our cars and compel us to push them aside in the bathroom every morning when we get dressed.

But then there are the other things, the ones that grab our pant legs and burst into tears. "I'm art, I'm really art!" they will scream. "I'm a tool, you use me all the time!" they will plead.

One must be brutal, however, and go with one's gut instinct. Or better, start with the obvious things, the ones that make no apologies for their pointlessness. Toss the book on your shelf that you didn't like and didn't finish. Unload all the old magazines that you will never open again. Get rid of the chair in the garage youíve been hanging onto even though you hate it.

When it comes time to be brutal, though, make quick decisions. If you have to think about whether something is art or thing, itís a thing. If you can't determine if something is really a tool, itís a thing.

5.
The Theory of Things has changed my life. Great expanses of clutter have been cleared. I have empty space for more art and tools. And I no longer feel guilty ridding myself of some stuff.
Furthermore, Iíve saved money. Once you understand the Theory of Things, it's amazing how little money you spend. Consumer culture has made us all victims of things. And thus weíve wasted a great deal of money.

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