T
he most idiotic object is called the electric handheld fan. I first encountered it this summer about a month ago, on line 12 of the Paris Métro, just after Jules-Joffrin station, heading north. With the heat, there was no escaping this new gadget − a product of post-human imagination − which delights in cooling us down. You have all heard it whirring nearby, that ridiculous little 100% plastic thing, with its short, slightly phallic handle and electric rotor blades promising even hotter nights.
As I enjoy the rare underground encounters, I asked the user (and, objectively, it is mostly women who wield this object) to explain how it works. "How does it work, with batteries?" I asked. "No, you recharge it!" she replied, with the enthusiastic tone always adopted by modernists and our leaders, "because you have to keep up with the times." If it needs charging and is made of plastic, it must be energy-hungry, polluting and expensive; but what does the planet matter compared to a brief puff of satisfaction? Handy, colored in pastel shades, with a long lifespan for a piece of waste and costing anywhere from €0.30 (2.45 yuan, as it comes from China) up to €40, the handheld fan has many "attributes."
