Response: Ornamentally Challenged
So apparently a “Vandalay” is a specialty burrito offered by Moe’s Southwest Grill™. I had envisioned some kind of strawberry parfait with orange custard sauce and a caramel coated cherry on top. But no, it’s a burrito. I could have used this tidbit of information about two weeks ago when I began formulating my response to St. Fiacre’s Master’s Thesis on why Lisa Loeb should be cloned and placed in the lobby of every Moe’s Southwest Grill™ from here to Manhattan, Kansas.
An ornamental class? It’s certainly an intriguing concept and not without its merit, but how could I in good conscience, lend credence to the idea that our society actually needs people performing in an ornamental capacity? Christmas time is fast approaching, so what better time of year to discuss what exactly an ornament is and what purpose it ultimately serves.
An ornament, quite simply, is anything added to enhance the appearance of something else. That American flag earring St. Fiacre wears to work, the Dukes of Hazzard watch he keeps time with, the “Kang is my co-pilot” bumper sticker on his ’86 Buick Regal; they’re all ornaments. And thank God we have them right? Sure. But people, I would argue, are a whole different animal (pun fully realized). We weren’t intended to be ornamental. Ornate yes, but ornamental no.
Sure it would be nice not to have to look at the acne-covered, pregnant 17 year old cashier at 7-11™ every time I have to pump gas, but an ornamental really wouldn’t brighten my day all that much. The whole thing reeks of phoniness, to coin a Caulfieldian phrase. If someone asked me to describe beauty, it would be like trying to speak Arabic, which I’m told sounds something like this, س ع ٣ ٻ ٱ פ ٻ . It can’t be done. We can’t even agree on who killed the electric car, much less a definition of beauty. And beauty is overrated anyways. As the great Fonzi Marsciarelli once said, “Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together. Heyyy!” Or was that Petrarch?
Ask yourself this question: Do you really want to walk into a Wal-Mart at 3:33 am to pick up a razor and some potato chips and encounter the resident Wal-Mart ornamental? I mean, just look at yourself. You’re wearing Miami Dolphin sweatpants, an orange mesh half-shirt, pink jelly sandals, and a camouflage jacket. Not to mention the fact that your hair has obviously been slept on, a Mt. Etna sized pimple is emerging at the corner of your lips, and your breath smells bad to put it mildly. And look at the ornamental. A perfectly sculpted Adonis, fully equipped with bulging biceps, an impeccably coiffed Cesar cut and smartly dressed in a new Armani pinstripe. Wow, you really feel good about yourself now don’t you? So good that you have the uncontrollable urge to go over and strangle the ornamental in front of a crowd of similarly dressed bargain shoppers. Is this what the future holds for us? I hope not.
If my reasons sound selfish, they are. I don’t want some ornamental upstaging me every single day of my life. What if by chance, I have a really good day, and just so happen to outshine the ornamental in general appearance? I know it’s far-fetched, but I don’t want my one day of sans-mediocrity spoiled by some paid government beauty agent. And I’m assuming that were would be some unifying traits shared by all ornamentals. Even if you like the traits shared by the majority of artwork from the late Baroque and Rococo period, eventually you will tire of it, if that’s all you ever see. Even something beautiful can become ugly if it’s continually overexposed. Just look at Paris Hilton. Alright, bad example. Madonna? No, that’s no good either. David Hasselhoff? I give up.
And by the way St. Fiacre, I believe the word you were looking for is “sublime.” As in, St. Fiacre’s favorite band is Sublime.
Disclaimer: No Arabic symbols were harmed during the making of this blog.
posted by A Contemporary Bunkshooter @ 5:30 PM,
