posted on March 14, 2013 00:00
The pageantry and ritualistic exercises of Catholicism are as important to the flock as the weight of that collection plate at the end of every mass. Weekly wine and crackers, no meat at this time of year, sit, kneel, stand and ash crosses on the forehead.
But nothing tops the importance and pageantry of the Papal Conclave (capitalized – see, I have respect), with the possible exception of those secret parties held when another abuse case is dismissed…or never heard.
Every joke imaginable has been made this week regarding smoke, Cardinals and Catholics, and if you think I’m going to be an exception…well, you’re dead fucking wrong!
The Papal Conclave is designed for the worldwide Cardinals to come together for the purpose of allowing the “Holy Spirit” to dictate their choice for the next Pope, usually due to death or illness, though this time – resignation.
To people like me, this is the equivalent of my buddies and I drinking beer over an Ouija Board in 1987, waiting for it to tell us who really killed JFK and how many bodies were buried under our house, but I won’t get into that.
Thousands have converged on Rome, barefooted monks drop to pray in the rain and smokestacks sit motionless on a giant television for all to see, all while I scratch my goddamned head.
I half-expected the blimp to fly over, Beyonce to be singing or the smoke itself to be sponsored by Camel, but religion would never stoop as low as exploiting their traditions for monetary gain…
Black smoke signals that no decision has been made, while the white that everyone is waiting for (racist) is once again the “good” sign, indicating that a choice, ahem – divine inspiration – was reached.
Truth be told, however, manila legal folders and stacks of abuse papers simply burn darker than normal heating fuel and, in turn, the decision is actually determined by how many records the previous administration must purge before the new guy steps, limps or rolls in.
The asshole in me, which is large, hopes that 2-dudes were blowing each other on some backstreet close to this monkey business, just for hypocrisy’s sake and to be able to “say they did”.
Yes, the white smoke has risen and the Catholics have their new go-between to The Jesus. But don’t kid yourselves, they know who it’s going to be long before the flock of holy’s ever shows up, but the vacation is a nice deviation from their hometown norms.
If they wanted this thing decided quickly, they’d hold it in Detroit, Dhaka or some other third world city. Let these guys touchdown in Newark and see how fast they come to an agreement and get out of that shithole, though I do hear some tit-bars there are worth 2 ½-hours and a stack of $1-lap dances.
Of course, when smoke surrounds such a gathering of devote followers to one man in our country, it’s usually accompanied by a convoy of ATF vehicles and results in dead women and children, so that’s probably not an option anyway.
I actually know more about the bible than most people who claim allegiance to it, which will shock a ton of you, but I like to at least be educated about MOST things I have strong opinions about. That said, I don’t claim to know all about Catholicism as a whole, and I don’t think anybody really does.
First, I want to know why this guy always has to be SO FUCKING OLD. They’d require less of these little Roman fieldtrips if that Holy Spirit would propel somebody to write in somebody under – oh, I don’t know – fucking 75, from time to time.
Is there a specific rule against this, a deliberate shunning of the young guns because they haven’t “put in their time” or just that many required years to reach the proper level of holiness, if you will? I honestly don’t know.
This year’s favorites looked like the cast of “Cocoon” and the one before the quitter honestly appeared publicly as if he were right out of “Weekend at Bernie’s” at times, with strings pulling his hand up to wave, puppeteered by who knows who………………………..God?
The new fella’ is NOT Dennis Rodman, though it would hardly make a difference really, but reportedly a 76-year old, of course, from Argentina, who I thought perhaps that monkey from “The Lion King” was going to present to the masses from the roof above, given the spectacle of the rest of this shit.
It’s the “Circle of Life”, my KMFP-eople, the “Circle of Life”.
Word has it that One Direction is booked to play the celebration, with the irony of that band’s makeup, as well as name, lost on NOBODY in attendance.
A successful reign is predicted for your new Pontiff and, in completely coincidental news, a sharp decline in solicitation of Italian prostitutes and choir boys is forecasted for next week.
Also unrelated, I’m rumored to be going straight to Hell…KMFP-out!
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