Tuesday, September 1
I believe there are only three people in the world who will appreciate this, and I know all of them
A questionnaire regarding the phenomenon of the Snuggie, The Blanket with Sleeves, for testing your understanding of American home economics and your own personal desires, written in the style of Walker Percy's Lost in the Cosmos.It's worth a read, as usually this sort of bizarre humorous cross-polination only happens here at The Shrine. (Next week: "Possible Consequences that Would Result if Reginald Garrigou-Lagrange Guest-Starred on Family Matters.") A sample:
Thomas Merton received public acclaim for his unbridled desire to become a Trappist monk. His autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain, swept the country because, though we won't admit it, all Americans have a deeply repressed desire to be a monk or a nun. Buying a Snuggie is easier than dealing with these feelings. Also, it doesn't involve moving. Or obeying an abbot.Which just reinforces my own point, why not just wear a nice hooded robe? As anyone can see from this tenuously-related clip from 30 Rock, they don't even have backs. Wrapping a sheet round you, toga-style, would have better coverage.
And then there's this:
We don't want monastic life; we want small, portable cults, connected to a parent cult through televised messages. If picking one of the three available colors (burgundy, royal blue, and sage green) for your domestic group is not individualized enough, Snuggies can be bleached and tie-dyed.This brings up the frightening possibility someone might found an order of friars who wear tie-dye, or worse, leopard-print capuces (the Congregation of the Pre-Penitent Magdalene?). Yes, there are now animal-print snuggies. I'm pretty sure that's what happens when the third trumpet blows in the apocryphal Apocalypse of Esdras. (Or was it Peter? The Shepherd of Hermas? I forget.) Best to start watching out for three-headed eagles.