Meiosis

Meiosis (mei-o’-sis): Reference to something with a name disproportionately lesser than its nature (a kind of litotes). This term is equivalent to tapinosis.

Gold is dirt. Silver is mold. Nothing is better than anything else. You say your cleanliness is next to Godliness, implying that my filthiest isn’t. I’m just as next to Godliness as you are. Have you ever seen God taking a bath in the tub upstairs? Have you ever seen him buying a bar of Dial soap at Kinney’s? Have you ever seen him cleaning his ears with a washcloth? What about between his toes? The answer is No! No! No! Never!

Maybe God’s a slob! Maybe his big white beard is stained with gravy or red kool aide. The Divine B.O. would stink up public restrooms, slaughter houses, and dog kennels. And of course, His butt would leave a strong smell of cheddar wherever her went. Some people say he lives in Wisconsin. I don’t know if that’s true, but I’m even more not sure that He’s spotless.

But you—you think God takes three showers a day. In your case, it’s to wash away your sinful romps with Mr. Carlisle. He’s 40 and you’re 19. I hear you grunting up in your room, right after he comes over and you go up to your room. How long is Mom going to buy your lies about why he’s up there? Helping you find a lost sock has just about had its day. Next, you’ll probably tell Mom he’s helping you make your bed. Mom may be mildly retarded, but there’s only so far you can stretch it, even with her. I’d rat you out, but Mr. Carlisle pays me $10 each visit to keep my mouth shut.

I’m saving the money. I’m saving my money to buy a Craftsman tool set, a cordless electric drill, a hammer, and a rubber mallet. I intend to go into the business of fixing things—from cars to bicycles. In the repair business, being dirty is a necessity—dirty fingernails especially. I’m studying repair at BOCES. So far, I’ve learned how to change a tire and replace windshield wipers. Next, we’re moving on to sewing machines. When I graduate, I will be able to fix anything—even a Minuteman ICBM! You’ll be in the shower washing away your regrets, while I’m in my garage, with grease under my fingernails, saving the world, one guided missile at a time, or ‘68 Ford, or kitchen appliance, or snow blower. I will be “Johnny Fix-It.” I will put the “R” back in in repair!

So, who’s more Godly? Squeaky clean soap-smelling you, or greasy, sweat-smelling me? I think we can both agree: “Cleanliness” is not a criterion of Godliness. Godliness is more complicated than taking a shower.

Definitions courtesy of “Silva Rhetoricae” (rhetoric.byu.edu).

Daily Trope is available in an early edition on Amazon in paperback under the title of The Book of Tropes for $9.95. It is also available in Kindle format for $5.99.