Focused

A man can't have too many lights, not as in the common parlance for getting one for a cigarette, but in the way of lighting a room or desk.
And of course a man also can't have too many glasses both for seeing and drinking. But I'll leave that topic for another day.

Thus our focus of the morning was acquiring a light, which saw us back in the land of the flat pack for the acquisition of a desk light, one which would be much better than the last two his Lordship had owned and which would add the right amount of light and gravitas to the work space of a man of intellect and refinement. His words not mine.

Whereas in the days of yore, my childhood days even, the swell of people on the street at 11am on a Sunday were all heading for their respective churches to be lectured about sin and its results, nowadays the body of people on the streets are swarming into places like the flat pack emporium for a saunter round having a look at the newest things on offer,maybe to sit and have a coffee, and for their children to have a high old time running around, bouncing on beds and settees in happy abandonment from any parental restraint.

From a child's point of view, it must be much better than sitting still for an hour and a half on a hard pew being quiet, and from the parents' point of view how much less troubling than having mankind's sins brought to your attention by a ranting man of the cloth.

Whether it is morally worse to replace God with Mammon is of course another question altogether.

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