We have entered the twentieth century and bought a dishwasher. I’m surprised by its power consumption. It does take less water than I do when doing dishes by hand and gives a bright shine to the wares. When there are six or more guests at the table, to load the machine is more discreet than to do tons of dishes in full sight of everyone. I cannot think of any other advantage. The machine transforms into a much more complex network of invisible relationships a working moment that had so far remained relatively simple: dishes and silverware washed in a sink, running hot or cold running water, all things locally provided and that I could repair myself. But with my new Bosch 500 something, I accept to become part of a more complicated knotting of oneself to the world. I don’t see any time or energy savings. It still strikes me as a luxury object by which I signify to everyone that I’m ready to move away from utilitarian, slightly noisier and messier ways of cleaning my plate, towards a dilatory, invisible purification. We’ll see if it becomes an object of necessity.

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