Fake Plants

I'm going to have to double down on pet peeves today, because somehow I managed to miss yesterday's peeve.  I had every intention of sharing a peeve, but somehow I came to be in control of the remote last night and watched a continuous, flowing stream of old movies...Gigi (starring Leslie Caron) which led into Murphy's Romance (which I watched nearly in its entirety) which eased into the finale of Kindergarten Cop (always a classic) only to watch the victorious conclusion of the Lord of the Rings.  Needless to say, it was after midnight and I was out of steam.  So...today we will have two pet peeves.

The first is fake plants.  I do not understand their popularity; why there are thousands of artificial ivies dangling from above the cabinets of suburban kitchens, why interior designers feel the need to stuff dust-catching fake palms in living room corners, and why (worst of all) grandmothers all over feel a need to fill their window boxes with daffodils that eternally bloom into November.
Plants are alive.  You just can't fake living things.  It's like stuffing your dog after he has passed through the pearly dog-gates.  Does it really feel like he is still with you when you look over at his stiff, little eternal pose?  No.  And the plants are not with you either.  Fake plants are the horticultural equivalent of living in a human wax museum.  Imagine waking up to the wax likeness of Madonna sitting at your kitchen table.  As much as you might like to share coffee with the material girl, there shouldn't be an artificial living thing in your home.
Worse yet is the outdoor fake plant.  When the blue-green of a cloth or plastic leaf is allowed to contrast against the natural color of plants growing out of doors, things have really gone too far.  This is like giving the bird to Mother Nature.  Better to go naked in those front planters than to add a lively grouping of faux blooms.