Imagine religion without cloth. What would happen to distinction, extinction of sin, and unctuous wrapping of insignificance in excelsis deo? How else can you tell a cardinal from a taylor but by the fact that the former wears crocheting around his crotch and the latter displays his naked china dolls on it?
One should of course not further inflate the vanity of popes and cardinals by talking about their fashions, in doctrines and dresses. However, the current pope apparently did see red, recently, in his vision of where his mostly childless brethren were heading, and created 22 new cardinals, ex nihilo (out of nothing comes nothing?), and now there is more red around him, thank God. Red, as you remember, is the color of cardinals, communists, and Republican states, in other words the color of orthodoxy and charging (papal) bulls. Displayed through cloth, of course, since apparently Adam and Eve turned red with shame, when they realized what a shameful body their creator had stitched together when he made them, clothlessly.
You will notice that the French artist, Gustave Doré, magically introduced cloth into this scene from creation, for the man, even though Eve is just appearing and he had not yet had time to say “darn” to her, so overwhelmed by her absence of distinction that he apparently passed out, while she covered up with figments of imagination.
A good case can be made that if we had not been ashamed of the body given by the gods we would never have known such distinction as being a cardinal. We would have continued to fool around naked, instead of telling the helpless to get naked, by the power invested in us by our vestments.
Yes, yes, hippies and nudist beaches have tried to revive moments of paradise, but even they are codependent to the world in stitches. Off the beach, how can you tell a rebel except by his carefully neglected garments? We protest the power of the cloth only at the real risk of making it all the more powerful. Perhaps clothes like guns don’t kill people, but it seems far less likely that pastoral child abuse, unlimited procreation enforced by de facto not quite castratos, etc., would occur without cloth than generals could kill without guns or uniforms.
How did we get here? How could we have fallen so low that epaulette and décolleté rule the world and masses kneel in awe because a pope made 22 men change their costumes?
In the name of ethics, civilization, and simple human decency, I therefore propose that cloth should be outlawed. Its effects are far more addictive than any illegal drugs, its destructive influence on the human race has been even more outrageous than any religious slogans. It is an affront to any believer who holds that God created our fine bodies: how dare we cover up the work of the Lord?
By the way, does God have a taylor or is he just proud of his body, fiery bush as it may be?