Congratulations! You’ve clicked on the most important link in this website, Kill Your Carpet. I know what you’re thinking, “kill” is a strong word, particularly when used in conjunction with something as (apparently) innocent as carpet, which already endures so much abuse in the form of people walking all over it and children spilling powdered cherry Kool-Aid mix on it and attempting to wipe up the mess with a wet cloth. I agree that it’s both pitiful and a little obscene to devote so much time and intellectual resources to an issue like carpet when our government is grossly abusing the notion of democracy and the majority of Americans seem more interested in watching people get chin implants on television than recognizing even a fraction of the amount of trouble the world is in. But this is not a political soap box. In fact, soap has no place here. That is because this is a carpet free zone, the cyber equivalent of a hard wood floor, gleaming in the virginal splendor that can come only from a lifetime—and that’s a lot in floor-years—of Total Carpet Avoidance.

As I wrote in the essay:

Are you with me? Yes? Then you’re a neurotic mess and I commend you for it. Does none of the above make sense? Then you seem like an emotionally stable person and I’m envious. If you’re still confused, indulge me while I impart this brief etymology lesson. In the 13th century medieval Latin of England, the word “carpet” connoted a “thick cloth.” By the 14th century, the meaning was refined to indicate “table cloth” (I’m not a fan of those either, but we’ll take that up another time) and by the 18th century “carpet” had become another way of saying “table.” Out of this was born that frequently used and rarely understood phrase “called on to the carpet,” which implies an invitation to place ones evidence or defense on the table for discussion. In that sense “on the carpet” really means “under consideration.”

Obviously, carpet is crying out for semantic as well as sociological inquiry. And whether we view carpet as a cultural construct or a hideous floor covering (reader, it is both) there can be no argument that the points on the carpet continuum—that tearful trail that starts with rationalizations like “only the bedroom is carpeted” and all too often ends with a Dodge minivan and a subscription to TIME—is one of the most pressing issues of our era. This goes well beyond distinctions like red states versus blue states. This is about wood versus wool, shiny versus shaggy, making do with a lightweight broom versus needing a million pound Hoover Self Propelled Wind Tunnel Bagless vacuum cleaner. This is about the acoustics of American conversation. With wood floors, that conversation echoes throughout the world. With carpet, you need a mic. And that kind of reliance on technology only hurts us.

Now more than ever, we must join forces to fight the misguided edicts of the carpeted despots that threaten our nation, or at the very least, keep hardworking American houses from rising above their circumstances and someday appearing in Dwell. I am willing to lead the charge but I can’t do it alone. If you, like millions of others, are sick and tired of carpet and just won't take it anymore, I ask that you lend your voice to this growing movement. I am working towards the formation of a Kill Your Carpet action network that will hold a protest on the National Mall or, barring that, participate in the next Burning Man Festival or, barring that, pass out flyers in front of the health food store.