Daily Archives: April 22, 2013
And it came to pass that your humble correspondent, afflicted by cough and catarrh, walked to what is for most the standard purveyor of medicinal products in the land: Boot’s.
Randomly searching for my chosen product, I see a big section called “Sexual Wellbeing”. It’s not in a corner, or where it will only be noticed by those who already know what they want. No, it’s truly, as they say, “in your face”.
A small selection of vibrators is on display.
I don’t think I am particularly innocent, but frankly it was a shock. It was the same as if I had discovered that Waitrose sells porn in the DVD section. Please understand Boot’s in this country is the standard choice, where every mother would go with her little daughter without thinking twice. As I write, I can’t even tell you the name of one competitor, at least for medicines you don’t find at the grocery store.
We are in a bad shape. We truly are.
Dear British readers, can you please tell me more about the alternatives to Boot’s in the London area, or about online pharmacies who offer a good service. Actually, this could be good to see whether here are any Christian pharmacies or chemists around, on or offline.
Frankly, this is another of those occasions where I must think “I never thought I’d see the day”, and the day has arrived and stares me in the face like the big sign, “Sexual Wellbeing”.
I will complain with Boot’s after I have a credible alternative, so they know the client has gone for good, and I will complain around.
Some weeks ago I was at a Novus Ordo Mass in a well-known London neighbourhood, and an oldish woman started with the readings.
She probably had heard too much about they “joy” filling the heart of every Catholic, because she started reading with such a diverted tone you would have thought she was telling a joke. “Mussolini, Hitler and Stalin sit near each other in an aeroplane….”. Exactly that tone, only it was the Old Testament she was reading.
I was not the only one noticing the incongruence, because looking around I saw some ironic smirking. The good woman was doing her best, no doubt; and as for her feeling oh so very special, she was certainly not worse than every other indulging in such post-V II exercises.
Still, I thought this was another reason to leave something as important as the Mass as far as possible in the hands of the professionals. Involuntary comedy is still rather too comedic for something as serious as the Mass.