Catholic "Prayer before Sex and the Priest's Scandal

The three of you who have read any of my Blogs know I do not like religion in general and the Catholic Church in particular. I think that Religion is nothing more than a big business that has as its only goal to make money and lots of it! It has little, if anything, to do with saving your soul and helping you get to heaven.

I was raised Catholic, attending Catholic elementary, high school and even college. Although, by the time I went to college I reached my stated conclusions on what religion was and how it operated - by scaring the begeebees out of everyone and convincing their followers that religion was how one got to know god and attain eternal salvation with him. I dismiss all of this as crap and the work of evil minded people intent on making a ton of money playing on your fears and needs. But my anger does not stem from my belief that religion is a sham and its leaders are charlatans. It stems from the fact that I was born gay and growing up Catholic, was ridiculed, persecuted and filled with enormous self loathing so that I constantly feared being discovered and then being run out of my family, loose all my friends and, worse of all, loose favor with god and be sent directly to hell upon my death.

When I finally could not keep my dirty little secret any longer, I confessed my "sin" to two priests. The first priest threw me out of his confessional and the second priest took me to bed and that, he said, was to help me cope with my being gay. Fortunately, I was able to survive these two occurrences and, putting them aside, was able to live a life with some measure of happiness because I forevermore disregarded any and all Catholic teaching/dogma and came out as a gay man to my family and friends. I began living, for the most part, as the person I was born as, unencumbered with lies about how I spent my weekends and why I wasn’t married. There was one exception to my new found freedom and that was at work, for I never came out at work fearing that I would be fired, the stated reason would not be my homosexuality but because my work would suddenly become unacceptable for unexplained and undocumented reasons. Corporate America had adopted a “Don’t Ask/Don’t Tell policy long before the U.S. military.

I watched the priest scandal play itself out and was disgusted but not surprised at how the Catholic leadership assumed their phony righteous indignation at the boys and girls that were molested by one priest after another but who, the Church attempted to accuse, were making the whole thing up, all two to three thousand of them (right!), in an attempt to extort money from the Church. Fortunately, the truth has a way of getting out and soon it was apparent that the Church was not only lying about the numerous molestations but had been actively covering them up like an overworked cat in the world’s biggest litter box.

I enjoyed watching the Holy Mother(fucking) Church try to rally the Faithful around the accused priests and attempt to paint them as poor, maligned servants of god who were being attacked and their reputations destroyed by the news media, that the Church said was against anything Catholic and that had been acting irresponsibly toward the Church for years.

We all know how it turned out with the Church paying the boys and girls hundreds of millions of dollars in judgments and having to admit that they, the Catholic Church, did indeed have a very serious problem.

Then, last summer, the Church went too far in my opinion when they issued a prayer to be said before having sex (of course this was intended for married couples only). Well, that punched my last button and I sat down and wrote the following little ditty that I disrespectfully dedicate to The Catholic Prayer before Sex as it might relate to the priest scandal.

Holy Sex! (Holy Shit!)
Now I lay me down for sex
He’s only twelve but what the heck
He’s not developed, that’s for sure
But I could help him to mature
Isn’t that what priests are for?

To give of ourselves in no small measure
In order that we give sexual pleasure
To Catholic boys, so innocent and devout
And suck their willies until they shout
Bless me Father I’m coming in your mouth!

The Catholic Church, Oh what a Mother
Who rewards her children like no other
With a sex prayer that Mom and Dad can state
And maintain their soul’s spotless slate.
Not to be said before you masturbate!

I became a priest, you see,
Not to develop spiritually,
But to hide my homosexuality

The Pope's Nightmare

The year is 2019, The Pope, Benny the XVI, is old and nearing the end of his reign as pope. It’s 3:10 am, Vatican city time, Benny has had a nightmare, as a result of which he is sitting straight up in bed, broken out into a cold sweat, hands trembling and labored breathing.
“Holy shit (pun intended)” exclaims his Excellency. “This is the third time I’ve had this damn dream that god really does exist! He knows everything I’m thinking and he’s watching everything I’m doing no matter where I am! All the bullshit that those damn Nuns threw at us as children in elementary school. All that nonsense designed to scare the crap out of us, so we never question what the church teaches no matter how stupid it is! I know its all bull shit so why am I having these nightmares?” Benny asks himself.
“Because I gave them to you!” came a voice from the far corner of the room where the Pope’s desk sets.
“Who’s there? Who are you? Father Pizzeria, if this is you, I’ll send your fat little ass to America where you will say Mass ten times a day on Mother Angelica’s Electronic Word Television Network (EWTN). I know how you hate your priestly duties; they interfere with your dabbling with, er I mean, instructing the altar boys in the finer points of man/boy love. So knock it off or you’ve sucked your last altar boy dick!” shouts the pope.
“This isn’t Fr. Pizzeria, Herr Pope. This is God. You know, the First Person of the Trinity, the One who sent his son, what do you call him this time around? oh yeah, Jesus, to suffer and die for repentance of all the sins of mankind!” says the Voice. He takes a couple of puffs off a cigar and continues, “You know something, the first time I heard the story of how I sent my son down to earth to atone for man’s sins I laughed and asked myself how cruel a Being you humanoids must think I am to send my Son to earth to suffer such ignominy - for what? Nothing has changed; shit everything got worse!” said the voice from the shadows. “No, I never sent my son, or anyone else, to earth to suffer for yours and everyone else’s sins. You folks are going to need to take care of those yourselves,” the voice said coldly.
Suddenly, a sense of fear and unrest comes over Pope Benny and he nervously asks, “Would you please show yourself?”
“Why, you planning on shooting me with the 9MM you’ve got in your nightstand?” the voice asks jokingly. With that, the intruder gets up from behind the desk and steps into the light of the lamp on the night stand to reveal a middle aged man sporting a two day growth of beard, wearing cut off jeans, worn sneakers and a T-Shirt that has a message written on the front; Don’t Blame God For Religion!
“Wait a minute, you don’t look like God! You look like a middle aged, lower class bum from the poor side of town. You’re definitely not the god I know from the Bible!” Benny sneers!
“The Bible! Come on Benny, you know the Bible’s not what you boys in the religion business claim it is – ‘the word of God’ I think you call it. Theologians and bible scholars discredited it decades ago when they admitted that it simply told the same story of redemption with the same characters, who have different names because they came from different times and cultures. The ancient Egyptian god Horus was one of the earliest to save mankind by being sent to earth by his father, the Egyptian god Osiris (who was supposed to be me) and was born of a virgin. The stories of Horus and Jesus are nearly identical, and are certainly the same story! The early writers of what you call the New Testament borrowed liberally from the stories of Horus to end up with a novel about your concept of Me and My relationship with you. That is all well and good, but in no way did I help your ancestors write that Book. Those writers and the religious leaders at the time the New Testament was begun to be written, were aware of Horus, as well as another mythological figure named Mithras who was a Roman god said to be sent to earth to save mankind 75 years before Jesus was supposedly born, and they borrowed generously from both stories to come up with their own story of God’s relationship with His creation. Unfortunately, when you compare Horus’ life with Jesus’ life, you realize that you are reading the same story! They are both myth – they did not exist.” God said.
“B-b-but we can’t tell people that! What will happen to the great religions of the world; to your chosen Faith, the Catholic church?” stammers Benny.
“My what?! Whoa Pal, I don’t have a favorite church! I don’t play favorites. I respect some churches more than others – especially the ones who care for the poor and address the spiritual needs of all, not just the rich and powerful. I have no need for wealth and I have all the power you or anyone else can handle! More, much more, actually, so don’t tell me that you and your rag tag army of child abusers are my favorite church! You don’t want to make me angry, Benny, and I must warn you, you’re getting very damn close!” God states.
“You build new, glorious churches and schools in the rich suburban areas while, at the same time, you close churches and schools in the poor sections of the cities where the residents desperately need your help and the hope that your help can give them. No, Benny, I sat by idly for too long! Now I’m telling you in no uncertain terms; change the direction of your church from one that serves the rich and powerful to something that I want, no, expect, from a church that hitches its wagon to my name; be one that serves the wants and needs of those who can’t fend for themselves and, in addition, address the spiritual needs of the rich and powerful for, in that area, the rich may be more needy than the poor,” God says.
“But you can’t expect me to give up everything I have and follow your demands! That just not fair!” Benny exclaims.
“Fair! Oh you don’t want me to discuss fair, Benny! Is it fair that you live in the lap of luxury, a king in his own country, while the poor, the weak, the downtrodden of your Faith continue unaided by you, your church, your wealth. As Pope and leader of the Catholic Church, you should meet the needs of all who require your help; not just those who can pay for it and in return believe they have earned, even purchased a seat in heaven. Sorry, Benny, you’ll get no sympathy from me” God explains.
“What about those Butt-heads in those Mega Churches who are always condemning anyone who they feel need condemning? They are always speaking for you! Are you going to give them notice, too?” the Pope asks.
“I already did. I spoke with them at the same time I spoke with you.”
“How the hell did you do that?” Benny asked.
“I’m God, remember. I can touch one mind at a time or thousands at once. It’s a little tricky but, with practice, I manage quite well. After all, I have been here forever” God says.
“So Ben, the choice is yours. Loose the wealth, the Palace, the gold, everything and start acting like the leader of a church and not the manager of a casino! Remember, I created every living thing and I love everything I created: the good, the bad and the ugly. Don’t put words in my mouth that don’t belong there. I love everyone and I expect those humans who profess their love for me and say they will follow me to do just that. Take care of my children and give them aid and comfort when they suffer and are away from me. For to say that you follow me is to do no less. Leave the condemnation to me, for only I know what’s in a heart and why a person does what he/she does. Vaya con Dios, Benny. Walk with me or, if you choose, without me. But remember, the chips will fall where they may and they won’t give a damn if you’re a Pope or a Plumber!” And with that, God was gone, leaving Benny a bit afraid but mostly still incredulous.
“That was the worse nightmare I ever had! Well, no, not as bad as the one where I lost that billion dollars in a card game with Rick Warren; but close! I have to stop eating Italian sausage and green pepper pizza as a night time snack before I turn in. Still, that was a hell of a bad dream. I mean, God wouldn’t talk that way to the Pope, the most prestigious and powerful religious figure on earth! What the hell am I talking about; I don’t even believe in god! I’m going to call the kitchen and tell them to send up a pot of coffee. I’ve had enough sleep for one night. Besides I wouldn’t want to have that dream again. Nooo sir!”
He gets out of bed and goes over to the desk where the nightmare visitor sat, turns on the desk lamp and reaches for the intercom to buzz the kitchen. Suddenly he notices something in the ashtray. Cigar ashes…

I got my information for this blog from the website “Religious Tolerance” and an article by Tom Harpur from his book “Pagan Christ” Here is the link to the website and to that article- http://www.religioustolerance.org/chr_jcpa5b.htm

The Soul Angel

As far as I know, all Religions agree that the soul is what continues life in the spiritual world after we die. While all the major religions agree that we have a soul, there is a difference in their dogma as to when the soul enters the body. Catholics teach that the soul enters at the moment of conception. Jews believe that a person receives his/her soul when they draw in their first breath. These two religions are emphatic in their belief on this matter even though it is impossible to know what they claim to be fact because the soul is not only invisible it has no substance and is therefore un-measurable as well.

Personally, I believe that souls are handed out when a person dies and is admitted to Heaven. This seems more reasonable than arguing when a spiritual entity is attached to a physical body. This raises two questions: 1) why carry a soul around for your life here on earth and 2) more importantly, how did the soul get inside of the body in the first place?

While the soul is what supposedly separates us from the animals, I find it ludicrous to think that we need to carry one with us at all times, like the American Express card. But, since the soul is so important to the major religions of the world, I wondered how it came to be inside our body and who put it there. The Catholic Church teaches that the soul is implanted in our bodies at the moment the sperm fertilizes the egg that becomes us. As a good Catholic schoolboy (one who is scared shitless of everything and anything that might bring even innocent pleasure much less any thing even remotely concerning my dick) I wondered who was charged with the tremendous responsibility of watching for that exact moment when the happy, swimming spermatozoa, enticed and penetrated an egg floating down from the ovary by way of the oviducts on its way to the uterus where they would hold a dance then die if not fertilized. Since I never could get an answer from a Church that made up facts as they needed them, claiming that they were indeed facts that were based on tradition and faith, not hard evidence, I decided to create my own explanation of how this extremely precise event of inserting the soul at just the exact moment of fertilization would come about in each and every instance and who we should thank for this tireless endeavor. That would be the Soul Angel, of course!

Before any of you Thumpers attempt to point out the fact that this is not in the Bible, let me save you the time and effort. I am exercising the same right as the Catholic Church to make up silly pronouncements that are passed off as ascertainments, and spoon feed them to their catatonic followers as the truth. So, no it’s not in the Bible, yes I made the Soul Angel up but so does the Church in many of their declarations of fact. Now can I get on with my story? Thank you.

Soul Angels have a tough, grueling assignment. First of all, they must be constantly on the move, 24/7, searching for couples copulating in every possible place there could be: under bleachers, in back seats, bedrooms, bathrooms, elevators, theaters (off, off, Broadway), tree houses, outer space, rectories, etc.; the list is endless. Then, having spotted what is hopefully two consenting adults having sexual intercourse, the Soul Angel must dive into the center of the action like an illegal third party in a UFC event, waiting, watching for the right time then suddenly, with the seminal discharge releasing the mass of excited spermatozoa trying to avoid being trampled by the charging eggs eager to gore something (wait a minute! I’m confusing this with the running of the bulls at Pamplona. Oh well, it’s kinda like that so just go with me here, OK?) and spark a life, the Soul Angel grabs a new soul from his backpack, blows into the hole at the top to get it fully extended and wrinkle free, then waits and watches the mesmerizing dance of life until it identifies the successful sperm and, at the exact time that sperm penetrates the egg, and not a split second before or after, places the soul into the mouth of the sperm and, when the sperm savagely bites the egg causing the spark of life, it also permanently affixes the soul and begins the process of forming the body around it. (Just imagine the excitement when twins, triplets or more are conceived!!!) The Soul Angel assures that that soul is permanently affixed to the newly created human prohibiting it from falling out until the Angel of Death does its job and frees it from its earthly habitat so it can be sent on to be judged at the Pearly Gates.

Because much of a Soul Angel’s work is done at night in poor light, sometimes things don’t go as smoothly as described above. Occasionally the angel will spot a full blown sexual encounter and have to dive into the action immediately, before it’s too late. Most of the time, the result of the selfless, heroic action of the angel throwing itself into the fray without concern for its own safety, is that another soul will be successfully implanted just in the knick of time. However, some Soul Angels have experienced the displeasure of diving into the action amid cries of “who’s your daddy?” only to suddenly be aware of the smell of excrement, the absence of a warm and friendly vagina and the presence of a hemorrhoid or two! A realization not unlike we humans feel when we walk into the wrong restroom. Damn! It should have been more careful and cautious when scouting the rectory at St. Mary Margaret’s Catholic Church! Because of its chagrin, the Soul Angel attempts to sneak out the rear (my bad) and hopes to leave the scene undetected. Once the Angel cleans itself up, it is ready to return to work; ever vigilant and ever prepared to place a soul into a newly conceived human.

So, dear reader, I hope you had a chuckle at my feeble attempt to conjure up a tale to explain how a soul gets into a body and how it stays put in a manner that would support the imbecilic catholic dogma of when (but not how) a soul is placed in a human being! If you were offended because I crudely and disrespectfully attacked the Catholic Church arm of organized Religion then I say "you are right but I am not sorry!" Don't spend too much time soul searching because of this!!

Short Story Loosely Based On US Policy In The Middle East

I read an article condemning Jimmy Carter’s trip to meet with some of the leaders of Hammas. The article was on Darryl Cagle’s political cartoon website and it was written by, of all people, Oliver North. Rollie pollie Ollie and the Contra Rebels who brought us one of this country’s most embarrassing moments when his illegal arms for drugs, er airplane parts for Iranian planes took place in the Reagan administration’s years. What a joke! Ollie North criticizing Jimmy Carter! If the Bush administration (and Clinton, Bush I, Reagan) would have kept up the initiative of the Carter administration and kept the talks active and the pressure on both the Israelis and Palestinians, Jimminy Carter would not have had to hop off to Hammas and try again to broker peace in the region. Here's what might have happened with the Bush Administration's plan for Peace in the Middle East from my wild imagination.

The phone rings on President Bush's desk but he can’t get to it, he’s on the toilet reading a Rush Limbaugh book.

Mr. Bush, “Darn it, now who is it? It has taken me seven years to get to page 44 but it was worth it. I finally got all of my advisor’s to just say “Ditto, sir” when asked their opinions. It has saved lots of time and tax payer money and allowed me to make decisions in a rapid yet supportive manner. Ha, here's to you, Frank Rich and your New York Times! You won’t be so quick to call me stupid anymore! That’s a great beginning to my legacy! Darn I wish Nancy Pelosi was here. She can clean me up better than anyone on my staff!”

The answer machine clicks in: “Hi, you’ve reached the desk of the president of the United States. To continue in English, press one. (Beep, the sound of “one” being pressed.) If this is Putin or Ahmadinejad, get lost. If this is New Orleans, I did all I’m going to do! Quit calling, I don’t have the bus keys! Anyone else, leave a message, I know where the erase button is and how to use it!” Beep!

Condoleeza Rice’s voice: “Good morning, Mr. President, I was just hanging around by the pool and enjoying breakfast. Nothing’s going on, except your magnificent war in Iraq, and the rest of the week looks good, too. If you don’t mind, sir, I think I’ll take this week off and do a little shopping. I’ll see you next Monday for your staff meeting. Thank you my husb, er, president. Muwha!”

Mr. Bush tries to wipe and put the book down at the same time. He’s gotten better, he has at least not dropped the book into the toilet while attempting to fold the toilet paper! Never mind!

Bush yells; “Oh not again, now I’ll have to buy another book! I have made that idiot Limbaugh rich! Oh well, the information it contains is priceless. I mean, who’d pay for it? Oh, I made a joke! I must make note of it for my legacy – sparkling wit.”

The president returns Ms. Rice’s call. “Condi, hi it’s me. George. The president! Yeah, hi, how was your breakfast? Oh, good, good, good. Condie, I don’t care about the pancakes, OK? Before you take the rest of the week off, do you think you could call Olmert and set up some talks between him and the Jordanians? Why the Jordanians? Because they’re both in the Middle East and we should do something about the Israeli’s difficulties with their neighbors. It will look good in my legacy. Well, yes it will be a lot better than trying to talk with the Palestinians. Those sheet heads are always crying about civil rights and the fact that the Israelis destroy the Palestinian neighborhoods and kill their children in retaliation for the suicide bombings. Well, forget them! There’s no oil in Palestine, why should we listen to them? Come to think of it, there’s no oil in Israel, either. So why are we supporting them? I’ll call you back, Condi.”

Mr. Bush presses a button on his intercom. The answer: “Nancy Pelosi; Hi darling, we getting together soon?”

Mr. Bush; “Sorry, Nancy, not right now. I pressed the wrong button. Bye.”

He tries again. Answer: “Lincoln Bedroom; John McCain speaking.”

Mr. Bush: “Oh, sorry John, go back to sleep.”

John McCain: “OK, Mr. President. I will, Mr. President. I love your war, Mr. President. Oh, and please tell his holiness, the Pope, thank you for the rosary. And when you see him again, could you ask him what it’s used for?”

Bush: “Ask him yourself, he’s lying right next to you!”

John McCain, “Is that who that is? I did not recognize him without his pointy hat. He wouldn’t leave me alone; all night he wanted me to play this game called ‘Yes, Your Eminence, I am the altar boy of your dreams!’ I told him to take his hands off me, I’m not a Catholic, a Democrat or gay.”

Mr. Bush, “Good work, John, I knew you could handle him. After all, you must have experienced worse horrors in the Hanoi Hilton. No? Not even close, huh. Well, try and get some sleep. After all you are running for president and you have some big shoes to fill. Mine, you idiot!”

Bush tries another button. Answer: “Laura Bush. What do you want, dummy?”

Frustrated, he gets out from behind the desk, walks over to the door, opens it and yells “Where is Bob Gates?”

Voice from down the hall answers: “He’s out hunting quail with Dick Cheney! Dummy!”

Mr. Bush: “Laura, is that you? Never mind. Oh no, now I’ll need another Secretary of Defense!”

Bush goes back to his desk and places a call. “Good morning, General Patraeous! How are things going? What’s that? No, I understand, General, take time to duck and cover, I’ll wait.”

After several minutes: “Yeah, general, the reason I called was to ask if you have any small nuclear devices laying around that you could spare? You know, like a hand grenade or something. Well, I know they don’t make nuclear hand grenades – who’d try to use one? Right? No I guess I’m thinking of a small missile, you know, that won’t start a nuclear war but will send one heck of a message. I was wondering if you could send a couple of them into Palestinian territory, you know, mess up a couple of neighborhoods and let them know that we’re pretty much on Israel’s side. After all we want God to like us, too! You’ll see what you can do? That would be great, general. What’s that, do I know Frank Rich’s phone number? Not off hand, I’ll transfer you to Information.”

Bush thinks: “Wow, what a chapter this will make. I can see the headline now; ‘Vigorous work by Bush and his army convince the fifty four remaining Palestinians that their situation is hopeless and they agreeably sign a peace treaty with Israel’. The chapter will tell how I alone came up with the idea of a small nuclear device to get and hold the Palestinian’s attention long enough to convince them to sign a peace treaty. I’ll have the best legacy ever!”

Bush places another call, "Uncle Dick! Hi it's little George! Can we do lunch? I have something to tell you! You'll be so proud of me, Uncle Dick!

Oh Donkey Boy, The Polls The Polls Decrying

Last year about this time, when George Bush was still smarting from the 2006 election results, could anyone have imagined the state of the campaign today, with the Donkeys doing their best to loose the election and John McCain the only Elephant left standing? Who’d a thunk it?

In July, 2007, when the campaigns began to get their personnel lined up and the candidates were beginning to issue talking points, feeling their way out of the starting gate but not yet beginning the running of the race, most of America was chuckling at the Elephants and their unusual array of candidates for the high office of President. Mitt Romney was the most scrutinized because he was a Mormon and the majority of Elephants were Evangelical or Fundamentalist Christians who were firmly in control of the Party and quite unsure of where the Mormons stood in relation to real Christians. Poor Mitt, every time he had to answer a question on policy or procedure, he had to follow it with another question on his Mormon Faith. The Religious Right just could not get comfortable with him. Or any of the other candidates for that matter; McCain and Giuliani were too Left Wing, Thompson tripped and fell coming out of the gate, Ron Paul wasn’t an Elephant, really, but a Libertarian and that sounded too Liberal. The leaders of the Religious Right did not even get behind two of their own, Brownback and Huckabee because Huckabee raised taxes while he was Governor of Arkansas and Brownback just couldn’t persuade anyone that he was both a Religious Right Roadie and a true Elephant; campaigning for smaller government and lower taxes. Everyone, except John McCain and his mother, had written him off and buried him in his “Straight Talk Express” bus tour that looked like a leftover from the television show “Sunday Morning” with Charles Kuralt. (Sorry Charles)

But, the Elephant left standing when the Pride finished the stampede was of course, John McCain, the tried and true prisoner of war and Senator from Arizona – the least liked candidate by the Religious Right selection committee. I watch the entire proceedings, Mr. McCain, and those other guys never had a chance. There was not a single backbone or bit of courage displayed within that group. You da man, John!

But regardless who the Elephants chose to lead the parade, it was a known fact that the Donkeys were going to walk away the big winners in November, 2008. Well, in another time, maybe, and with decent leadership of the Party, that statement would most likely be true. However, the pollsters and pundits forgot the Dean, Pelosi, Reed factor of dumbass to the third power and the lack of leadership they displayed.

I can only assume that Howard Dean was chosen to head the DNC because why? I guess Time will tell because I sure can’t. At least we cannot blame Mr. Dean for the Super Delegates or the partitioning of the votes cast in the state primary, that was all concocted by former lead Donkeys prior to Howard’s reign of terror.

When the 2006 election turned out to be a set back for the Elephants, the Donkey Majority elected their Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi, and their Majority Leader in the Senate, Harry Reed. Can you say “What the f*ck, over!” If one ever wondered why the Democrats were represented by a Jackass, look no farther than these three. Dumb, dumber and dumbest. That is translated to be Reed, Dean and Pelosi.

Reed gets the dumb title because he’s the least offensive of the bunch. He is so quiet and so like what Mister Milquetoast is most thought to be that he is ineffective in any attempt to bring fear and loathing to the Oval Office. Bush knows he just has to keep his pepper spray handy and use it to control this old dog. Someone gave Mr. Reed a sign to hang in his office that read “There They Go, I Must Hasten After Them for I Am Their Leader!” He polishes it every day.

Dumber goes to Howard Dean and his second chance to be the leader of the Donkey Party. He blew his first chance with his energetic and somewhat comical show of enthusiasm when, during the 2000 Primaries, he did his version of a Daffy Duck followed by a smooth Karate move that my seven year old grand nephew does a better job of. He didn't notice the hundreds of reporters and camera men watching the proceedings. A disheveled Mr. Dean with wild eyes and a coprophagous grin plastered on his face looking all the world like a demented transgender coryphée whose partner had just abandoned him moments before the pas de deux, was glaring out from the front page of most of America’s morning newspapers the next day. But everyone deserves a second chance, Howie; it’s just a shame the Donkey’s gave you yours.

Then there’s the pièce de résistance of dumbass served cold, Nancy Pelosi. Ms Pelosi announced immediately upon her election to Speaker of the House that “Impeachment is off the table!” She subsequently interfered with several of the Representatives when they attempted to begin Impeachment proceedings against Mr. Bush, even ridiculing their attempts and disgracing them before their peers and the public. Thereby giving Mr. Bush general absolution for all of his sins against the Constitution and the American military, and a green light to continue his destroying some major portions of that document and his crimes against humanity! That was the most asinine display of leadership and understanding of her position that I hope has ever and will ever come from a Speaker of the House. You are supposed to stop the bad man, Ms Pelosi, not encourage him to do more and bigger crimes against humanity and our democracy – what’s left of it.

It makes one suspicious that there’s more going on here than meets the eye. You know, like Clinton and Lewinski? Just performing mind exercises trying to come up with an explanation for why you have been so easy to forgive a man who the majority of the citizens who voted for you expected you to investigate and perhaps impeach, bring to trial and even convict for placing our military needlessly in harm’s way in Iraq and for the resulting varied and numerous crimes against humanity. So far, you have been on the wrong side in this issue. Wrong side, hell, you are downright protective of the man. What’s going on, Nancy? Remember, confession is good for the soul, so if you haven’t lost yours yet, try it, you may like it.

But hell, who doesn’t love a circus and all the action and excitement that go with it? Bring on the Elephants and the donkeys! And the clowns, let’s not forget the clowns! Bush, Kennedy, Reed, Pelosi, Dean, Cheney (actually more a knife thrower than a clown), Rove, Gonzalez; wait, let’s not waist time – the White House and Congress, that will take care of the clowns.

So, get ready for four, maybe eight more years of Elephants tracking up the oval office and the Rotunda because once the Donkeys unleash the Super Delegates at their show in August, it will take at least eight years to quell the riots in the streets of America and restore law and order after Obama is dumped and Billary gets the nod. God may not bless America but He certainly will keep watching. Who can turn their eyes away from a train wreck of this magnitude?

By the way, I’m still waiting to hear from someone who knows all the verses to Kumbaya and who can lead us in song. We need it, and soon.

Here Comes The Pope

Here comes the Pope! America, get ready to meet the Vicar of Christ on earth! In case you are wondering what is meant by the term Vicar of Christ, it means the Pope is a substitute for Christ; he is taking Christ’s place. And what a substitute he is, too. Much richer, worldlier, friend of the rich and powerful world wide, basically everything Christ wasn’t. The Catholics don’t see it that way, I’m sure. But it is difficult to hide his trappings when he owns his own country, lives in a palace, has servants, chefs, chauffeurs, tailors, treasures untold (paintings, statues, gold, silver - a lot more than thirty pieces, real estate holdings world wide, and let’s not forget his fifteen hundred dollar loafers he was spotted wearing shortly after he assumed the rank of Pope.) Nice life if you can get it but you can’t get it even if you try. That’s because it is the oldest and largest “good old boys club” in the world and it’s all in who you know.

Actually, the Pope is no different than any other religious leader such as Billy Graham, James Dobson, Pat Robertson, any of the wealthy Ecumenical, Fundamentalist heads of their own religions who found out years ago that there is a tremendous amount of money to be made fooling people into believing that the only way to God is through them. They hold the keys of the kingdom! They is ”Da Man”!

Somebody say “Hang on there, Pilgrim; let’s take a look at what’s under that mask of piety and holiness these men all wear.”

Since his holiness, Pope Benedict XVI, is gracious enough to pay us a visit, let’s look at him and his organization, the Catholic Church.

The Catholic Church is one of the largest corporations in the world. It has a presence in every part of the Globe. It has a fortune so vast that no one knows what they are worth except them, and they’re not sure. The corporate headquarters is located in Vatican City, which is actually a small country independent of Italy where it is located. The Pope is the CEO of the company with a gaggle of Cardinals spread around the world who act as Chief Religious Officers and, in the case of the recent priest scandal that should have rocked the church, they become the Karl Roves of their domain and deflect attention from the real problem and blame everything on abortion. (Usually the Church blames all the sin in the world on homosexuality and abortion, but in this case, since many of the priests were sucking on the penises of boy babes, the spin doctors paraded the hapless women who had abortions out as the reason this terrible sin occurred. Quick thinkers, aren’t they? Don’t worry, they’ll do their best to make up for lost time and blame global warming on us gays.)

The corporation is further organized with middle management, the Arch-Bishops and Bishops who head smaller regions called Diocese and who report to the Cardinals. Reporting to the Arch-Bishops and Bishops are the monsignors; many of whom are pastors of parishes, and the priests.

The present CEO of course is Pope, Benny XVI, who has a darkly colorful background. He was a member of Hitler’s youth program and probably goose stepped for Der Fuhrer many times in a show of loyalty and solidarity. Sieg Heil, Holy Father! The Church explained away this embarrassing fact by saying that, being young and afraid, he had to go along with the program. I know that would be true for me as I would have gone along with anything Uncle Adolph dreamt up. But, I guess I feel that a man who replaces Christ on earth would posses a stronger character and deeper convictions. But, what the hell do I know? I’m probably just jealous of his wealth and power and the fact that he’s enjoying heaven here on earth.

He’s often a powerful voice for the poor, speaking of their plight world wide and our responsibility to help them. Of course, that’s all he is is a voice. He hasn’t opened up the coffers very wide except to add money from the sale of the churches in poor neighborhoods because they can no longer turn a profit. I could see closing the big buildings and tearing them down or selling them, but the Church should turn around and provide a smaller, more cost efficient building where services could be provided.

Oh well, I could go on and on about the enormous wealth and privilege enjoyed by the Popes through the ages but what’s the point? No one questions religious authority because, if they do, they are afraid of offending God. Well, I need to tell you that if anyone may be guilty of offending God it just might be the rich and powerful religious leaders who enjoy great wealth and power by scaring the money out of their follower’s wallets and purses.

There is tremendous money and treasure to be had by operating a religion and a religious organization. For instance, that gold that’s on the ceiling of St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome is worth untold millions. It originally belonged to the Inca Indians who were forced to turn it over to the Spanish Conquistadors who in turn gave most of it to the Holy Father at the time. The Indians were then summarily killed off and other Spanish dudes went on to get more gold from the Mayans and the Aztecs. By the way, should you run into Pope Benedict XVI in a Seven Eleven buying cigarettes and a Giant Slurpee, don’t bring this up; he doesn’t like to be embarrassed.

The first person who uttered that timeless truism “there’s no justice in this world” must have been talking about the unlawful, unkind acts perpetrated in the name of religion by all religious leaders through history. Take as an example the many famous and expensive paintings and sculptures that the Catholic Church has hanging in its corporate buildings in Vatican City. Those pieces were stolen from the Jewish families that were rounded up and systematically killed in the Nazi death camps of WWII. It is strongly believed that the Germans gave them to the Catholic Church in exchange for their help in effecting safe passage out of Europe and into South America. The Church denies it but it does lead one to ask “then where did they come from; the Sunday collection plate?” Wherever they got those treasures, they knew they were stolen. Did they return them to their rightful owners? I think you know the answer.

Ah well, bilk me once, shame on you; bilk me twice (and three times and four…) shame on me. Actually, the churches may be helping us get to heaven after all by taking our money and/or treasure. Wasn’t it Christ who said “It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than it is for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven?” With my anemic finances, I should be able to walk right in, sit right down and baby let my hair hang down!

Shame on me, I’ve been nothing but negative about the Pope and his little church. There is one thing he and I see eye to eye on and that is our dislike of the Iraq war and our opposition to it from the get go. Benedict denounced the invasion and subsequent occupation as being unjust and immoral. He advocates the systematic, timely removal of American forces and the return of Iraq to the Iraqi people. He’s got me on his side there.

To all the Catholics in America, I hope you enjoy and get something out of Pope Benedict’s visit. And to those of you who are critical of the man and his mission, remember this, you made him what he is today. He’s your leader. They’re his rules. You go to hell if you break them. Meanwhile, my money’s on the camel.

Now You See Them (Votes); Now You Don't!

Well that was a touching scene in the Dems debate in Nevada when the almost black Obama kissed and made up with the almost black Clinton (female); both promising to behave and not bring up the obvious any more! I think it made Edwards feel left out because he looked like he was going to cry. Don’t do it John! A man running for President CANNOT cry! If you want to show that you’re upset, shave your head. I’ll do it for you for $300!! You’ll save $100 over your normal cut, and bald would look better than that “do” you have now.

Oh well, I for one am disappointed. I was enjoying the rhetoric heating up. I was watching to see if she’d use the “n” word and he’d use the “b”. But now things are civil if still a little strained.

The new direction taken by the campaign was tearing apart the Black communities as well as a considerable portion of the Democratic voters. Just two weeks ago, the talk on National Public Radio about the Democratic candidates and the Black community was very polite and cool. Many of the Black women were undecided between Clinton and Obama because they wanted both a woman and a Black to be president. They were most loyal at that time to their gender rather than their race and the Obama forces needed to turn that around and get the Black vote firmly into their camp and away from the Clintons. When Hillary made the statement that the Equal Rights Amendment was signed into law because of the effort of President Johnson, Barack Obama accused the Clintons of belittling the work of Dr. King and playing the race card; when in actuality, he played the card most cleverly and with great skill. He left the Clinton camp reeling with the question “what just happened?”. As a result, the talk now indicates that Black women and Black voters in general are leaning strongly toward Obama and not so eagerly supporting Clinton. That’s one for the Obama camp!

What’s amazing is no one noticed who played the card. That’s because, in America today, a black man/woman still has a very powerful weapon with the race card if played as skillfully as the way Obama played it. He is, after all, a Harvard trained lawyer and one of the smartest members of Congress. He and Mrs. Clinton are very much equals when it comes to intelligence. He just out foxed her and the First Libido, Bill Clinton, so effectively that they don’t even realize what happened.

I listen every night to Farai Chideya’s News & Notes program on NPR. Initially it seemed to me at least, that Farai didn’t recognize any racial impropriety and she thought that what Clinton said was simply giving political credit to President Johnson for getting the Equal Rights Amendment passed in Congress. Ms. Chideya didn’t think that Hillary took away any credit from Dr. King (and I still don’t). But a sufficient number of her male guests were of the opinion that what Hillary said was tantamount to defaming Dr. King and deriding Barack. Those guests argued that Blacks should give their allegiance to their race and not their gender as so many black women had expressed previous to Hillary's comment. Now when I listen to News & Notes, not only has Ms Chideya come to support Obama but the majority of the women calling in are now firmly behind Obama and away from Clinton.

I was wondering how Barack Obama’s organization was going to accomplish that because so much of Black America has been so enthralled with Bill Clinton that he had been called the nation’s first black president, and this had carried over to their support for Mrs. Clinton. Mr. Obama faced a huge challenge to wrestle these votes away from the Clintons and I for one was wondering how in the hell he was going to do it.

Clever, intelligent men are almost always patient men, too. Mr. Obama waited until the opening appeared and he swooped in quickly and masterfully and toppled the walls of Jericho with a single blast of the race card! It was done so effortlessly that it was not recognized for what it was and I feel like I’m one of the few in America that realizes what happened.

Brilliant! Acta est fabula plaudite (the play has been performed; applaud!) Truly, the Clintons never knew what hit them and neither did the Black voters who were at one time loyal Clinton supporters.

Mr. Obama, I think you are as clever, and I’m afraid devious, as Karl Rove. And that, sir, is placing you in the crème Del a crème of political gamesmen. That can be an OK thing if used sparingly and without the appearance of malice; but a not OK thing when abused and used too viciously. This round went most definitely to you, sir. Although it was no small victory, actually it was huge; don’t savor it too long or you’ll miss the next opportunity to wow us again. Revenge is sweetest when served cold! Stay tuned, America!