After all my proselytizing about being an anti-consumer, I spent the day yesterday on a near-religious pilgrimage to the shrine of IKEA, a massive ziggurat dedicated to the love of cut-rate housewares. It’s right next to Woodfield Mall in the Chicago suburbs, a scary church of consumerism in its own right. The giant three-level IKEA is truly something to see, and although I still have very little impulse to shop for anything, it’s a fun place to browse around in. I got some picture frames and an area rug which seemed much cooler hanging from the IKEA ceiling than it did when I got it home. Such are the trials of a reluctant consumer.