This week I noticed that Lee Ann had bought a new top called a "two-fer", as in two-for-the-price-of-one. It is designed to look like a kind of tank top with a light shirt/cardigan over; but here's the trick - it's actually only one piece of clothing! And the advantage of this is? I must admit that I don't know.
This seems to be a popular fashion trend these days - the piece of clothing that appears to be one thing, but is actually another. Modern examples abound: skorts, which look like a skirt from in front but are actually shorts; similarly culottes, a divided skirt or long shorts. This type of trompe l'oeil is not new. The dickey was a detached shirt front which, under a jacket, cannot be distinguished from a complete shirt. A particularly modern, and disgusting form is the tee-shirt that looks like formal wear; taken to the extreme, there is even the recent practice of painting clothes on a naked body.
My question is, why is it so interesting to use a thing simply because it looks like something other than what it is? Why not wear shorts that look like shorts, for example; or a skirt? or a complete shirt?
Even worse, is the impression that something is "gourmet" if it tastes like something else. Coffee is "gourmet" if it tastes of hazelnuts, and tea is "gourmet" if it tastes of peaches. To be gourmet, an item should appeal to the connoisseur. Would a true connoisseur of coffee - one who can tell a 100% arabica from a coffee cut with 10% robusta beans - really find the taste of hazelnut appealing? I think a true connoisseur of coffee would be distressed that the taste of the coffee was being covered.
I am reminded of an incident at the Puget Sound Naval Shipyard, while I was spending six months as Executive Officer of the USS Trepang while it was decommissioned. There was a mini-mart not far from the office building where we worked, that sold lunch items and coffee. Being as close to Seattle as we were, it could not of course just serve coffee; it served all the exotic espresso-based drinks that we now come to expect from a coffee shop. One day, I decided instead of my usual cup of Standard Navy Coffee (which can, by the way, be used to etch designs in jewelry at a pinch, and which we were not allowed to pour down the storm drains because of EPA discharge monitoring) I would like a cup of cappuccino. As I stood in line, those in front of me were ordering their almond mocha latte grandés, and other equally exotic things that don't taste like coffee. When it finally was my turn, I asked the young man behind the counter for a cappuccino. He was at a complete loss. He appealed to the older, and wiser woman working with him for advice: "how do I make one of those?". In the end, he spent twice as long making an undrinkable concoction that included, of all things, ice.
Enough on that; let us return, briefly, to last weeks rant. After I had finished the letter and mailed it, and posted a copy on this site, I noticed the motto of the American Legion: "For God and Country." One might expect them, therefore, to oppose those of us who are so adamant about the separation of church and state. However, if they are true to their motto they will not; for their motto expresses that very separation. Why else would both God and Country have to be included, separately? If the state were not independent of the church, then it would be enough for the Legion to say "For Country." This separation of one's civic/political allegiance on the one hand, and one's religious on the other, is not contrary to scripture. We are, after all, told to Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar's; and unto God the things that are God's. (Matthew 22:21).
I was sent a story/joke recently, about Prayer and the Teacher. The bulk of this piece is actually very good; it explains well the ridiculous expectations we place on teachers. However, in the last line it blows it; the teacher complains that we expect him to do all this, and not pray? This is a common misconception, which is enriched and propagated by those who support school prayer (and thus oppose the First Amendment of the Constitution). Actually, the same First Amendment guarantees this teacher the right to pray. The right to say one’s prayers in schools, privately and in a manner not to interfere with class, is guaranteed by the Constitution. What is not allowed by the First Amendment is for the teacher (being a representative of the government) to tell the students how to pray, or even tell them to pray.
But should we hide our prayers in school? Is it right to sneak off somewhere to pray? Shouldn't we stand up, and be proud that we are praying? Jesus had an answer to these questions: And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are; for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men. Verily I say unto you, They have their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou has shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret; and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. (Matthew 6:5-6).
I am reminded of an editorial I saw several years ago. I have forgotten who wrote it, unfortunately, but it was styled as a letter from God. (On this occasion, He had more to say than would fit in huge white letters on a black billboard, apparently.) God wondered what all this fuss about not allowing prayer in school was about; after all, he got a zillion prayers from schools every day: "please God, don't let her call on me;" "please God, make Steven look at me;" "please God, don't let me embarrass myself again in gym class today;" "please God, make the bell hurry up and ring." (The last was from a teacher, no less.)
You see, God knows that prayer is allowed in school. Within reason.