I shall begin my blog with this starting thought : I am the type of man who thoroughly enjoys a delicious meal. Each delicious bite revealing the miraculous alchemy of the chef in question. The colors on the plate, the fragrances of each item carefully prepared and arranged on the plate to please the palate of each sense. Texture and flavor are the all important “follow through.” When one indulges in such a miracle of necessity ( one must eat, after all) the paladin of the palate participates in an ancient ritual in which he communes with those who have led up to this moment. In this communion one tastes and sees the goodness of humanity. Faith is restored. All seems right – at least for a brief moment.

Nothing truly good was ever achieved or expressed without order. And I am one who appreciates the natural order of things (as opposed to the unnatural perversion of order which we saw in Nazism, etc)  enhances and structures the beautiful. Sometimes the order can have a beauty in itself. A properly set table, the gracefulness of the knife to the right of the plate – designed and designated with a certain purpose, and, like all things of great beauty, can also be used for a horrible travesty of it’s original intention. Or, perhaps the evolution of the use of the knife at table is evidence of the civilization of an uncivil object. In that case it represents salvation sitting at the right hand side of the plate – waiting for we, the modern paladins, to pick it up and participate in the ritual of civility that we are daily destined to be a part.