We’re knitting the Ambiguous Liberty Quilt. My side is plastic; your side is vicuña. I’m knitting a section that is supposed to depict Iowa and Iowans. You’re knitting a hot rod car driven by two girls named Blossom and Jennifer. I tell you that your subjects don’t represent their models, and you argue back that neither do mine. So we load our ammo and begin to engage in another Great War; but then I say: “Let’s stop fighting and just continue knitting the quilt together.” So we return to our project.
I declare that my next knitted depiction shall be of Catholic Guilt. You ask how I expect to pull that off, and I show you my preliminary sketch-work that is blatantly pornographic. You decide to forgo representational art altogether and henceforth endeavor to knit only in characters of ancient alphabets. I now complain that you’re knitting too slow. You answer that you’re more concerned with knitting accurately. I make an impassioned argument for quilting fast-and-loose; and, to demonstrate, I end up knitting a giant plastic tidal wave and stuffing it in a can. Finally, when you open this gift, it explodes in your face.
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