by J J Cohen
Is it just me, or is the Slanket simply the newest way to become a monk without taking irksome vows of chastity, obedience, and poverty? From the jazzy Slanket ("the blanket with sleeves!") website, it seems the only thing Slanketeers are obligated to do in the robe is ingest food and libations before the altar of the living room's television. And never move from the sofa again.
Illustration: très fashionable teen ... or Franciscan wannabe? (Other attractive colors available. Apricot is clearly marketed for intellectuals, and thus has sold out -- the pre-Kalamazoo rush, perhaps. Limoges looks like a good alternative ... but what would Saint Benedict think?)