Culture in Review: Lavender

We here at AoF have a very simple mission statement: "To assert fact in regards to absolutely everything and anything." My particular role, as I have defined it, is to never provide anything particularly insightful or reasonably important in relation to the functionality of society. I hope that the movie review of Chupacabra was an excellent way of getting precisely that personal mission statement across. In keeping with that vein, once a week I will review something that is of absolutely no consequence upon society.

This week's subject of review: Lavender.

Lavender irks me in so many different ways. Those objects that are both a physical thing and also contain eponymous labels are extreme products of laziness. Lavender is only the first that comes to mind. Similar is orange and periwinkle. Wow, periwinkle might be worse now that I think about it. I can't even say or type it without instinctively needing to drink a cup of earl grey with my pinky sticking out and discussing the geopolitical ramifications of the pacific rim economy.

So what is it? A color, a scent, or simply a flower (I think it's a flower, I can't bring myself to consult the supreme god known only to its followers as Wikipedia). Moreover, why are only a few things named like this? Who stumbled first across an orange and said, "Wow, I've never seen this extremely basic and boring color in my entire life. Whatever this object is will forever describe it's hue as well. Bonus points if I can come up with a word that doesn't rhyme with anything else in the English language." I bet it was Francis Bacon. He's definitely one of those guys that I'm pretty sure was an extremely important historical figure but I have absolutely no idea what it was for. It was either for naming orange, lavender, periwinkle (pinky's in the air), etc. or forcing himself upon his slaves ("the milk's gone bad!").

In conclusion, I give lavender three fingers up. Specifically, the index, middle, and pinky fingers. I'll give you a hint, it's the Wichita State mascot. Two are one place, one's in another, and I won't tell you exactly where, just let you know that both words end in "ink", of which this review appears to be a waste of.