Briefly, the Rolls is a British-made razor contraption -- really a straight razor reconfigured as a safety razor that comes in an ingenious silver-plated case with a hone on one side and a strop on the other. The blade, the handle and the sharpening lever to which the blade is attached fit snugly into the case. To use it, one presses a recessed button on either side of the rectangular case, depending on whether one wants to hone or strop the blade.

Here's the thing: the device really works. It proffers a remarkably close shave, but only if one prepares. The whole operation is a bit like Mass: you have to prepare the lather, fill the bowl with hot water, strop the blade, carefully twist and extract it from the sharpening lever, and insert it into the pincers on the handle. But you can't do it the way you can do most things these days: with your mind on whatever it is you plan to do next, but would rather do right now. You have to be present and acutely aware of what you are doing. Which is easy with the Rolls Razor (and I can't be accused of advertising because nobody manufactures the thing any more) because the sensation of the shave is raspy enough to remind you that you are walking a thin line between a close shave and death. And what is the shaving ritual -- what has it been for thousands of years -- if not a man's daily brush with death?

The point is, I think there's a trend. I think there's a market for the antithesis of safe, efficient, and automatic. There's a market for dystopian products that don't protect you from yourself, don't do it for you, don't think for you, don't park for you, and don't tell you what you want before you know you want it. And such things are part of the trade-up market comprising luxury or near luxury objects that are both aesthetically pleasing and in some cases a little dangerous if used incorrectly, and require you to know a little something. (Did you know there's a magazine devoted to record players? Did you know that some of the record players in that magazine cost $60,000? There are people out there who will pay sixty grand for a record player.)

And I'll argue that when it comes to male grooming there's a real potential for subversive products. Gillette puts athletes in ads for the Fusion shaver -- yes, I know, awareness, the value of endorsement, blah blah -- but seriously. Why? I'll tell you. Because the Fusion isn't a shaving device, it's a castration device. A real man isn't afraid of a nick. I mean, for the love of mike, if Gillette started marketing straight razors, Harley-Davidson sales might plummet. How many male rituals do we have left? Where's the danger? Next thing you know we'll all be shaving with Lady Gillette. These new shaving devices with their aloe strips and six blades almost don't need water, much less lather. They're like rubbing your face with magic paper. Yes, it makes shaving fool-proof, but it also makes men emasculated fools.

And I bet people who would seriously consider something like a Rolls also cross index for, like, Viking stoves, sail boats, manual transmission sports cars, travel by train, travel by hang glider. And I think such products don't just appeal to middle-aged people like me who buy antique, useless things because we can tell our wives, "Wait, sweetheart, I won it on eBay for only ten dollars!" I think there's a vast market among young people for devices like the Rolls, which you'd probably avoid if you've seen "Sweeney Todd," but which, if cared for, last forever. It's green! No feeling guilty throwing away the wallet-sized plastic box the replacement blades came in. No mental calculations about your carbon debt when you toss the old cartridges. And the actual process takes time, which I've heard is the new money.

This commentary is insightful. I recommend it to others.