Just So You Know

Someone in Mississippi searched for the word "caprophilia" in Google. Unfortunately for him, I too do not know how to properly spell the word that is defined as a sexualized desire to eat and play with shit. So he arrived at my site. He must have been very very sad when he got here, because he lingered for less than ten seconds. Blogger has yeilded all the information I need to tell this story.

I bring this up because it's funny--shit eating is always funny--and also because you should know that the Internet is the least private place in human history.

Pointless Lies

The Tillman family and Jessica Lynch appeared before a congressional committee today. You recall that Pat Tillman was a a pro football player who passed on a million-dollar NFL contract in order to join the Army. He died in a friendly fire incident in Afghanistan that the Army initially portrayed as a heroic death on the battlefield at the hands of the enemy. Jessica Lynch was captured in Iraq after the truck she was riding in came under attack. The Army portrayed her as a fierce female warrior who went down shooting. The truth is, she did not go down shooting.

Lynch wondered before the committee why she was depicted as a lady-Rambo. Tillman's brother, a vet himself, claimed that the military tried to cash in on his brother's good name. I'm sure he's right. As far as Lynch the Lynch story goes, presenting her as a hero in the press just makes for a better tale, so the Army told it. They saw no apparent harm in crediting her with courage and grit that she wouldn't claim for herself.

The Tillman family rage seems aimed at a perceived cynicysm of the government. It's not misplaced. More importantly, the government's enthusiasm for heroic exaggerations indicates desperation for anything like good news to tell. Or at least news that inspires people rather than depresses them. Everyone loves courage. When we hear of courage and sacrifice we ask ourselves if we have courage, if we would sacrifice. We tell ourselves that we would. When we hear of useless friendly fire accidents on a barren Afghan mountain-side, we just want to curl up and weep.

So it Goes.

Kurt Vonnegut despised television. I can't imagine that he liked computers much either. I think he might like this kid.

Sainthood for the Devil

Pope John Paul is now on the fast-track for sainthood. Apparently a French nun claims that her prayers to him cured her Parkinson's Disease. For those non-Catholics out there, sainthood is traditionally conferred on people who are clearly conduits for the Holy Spirit and have performed miracles in that capacity. The process of canonization is a long one, fraught with many obstacles. While the process offically evaluates miracles, it's really a political campaign. It seems that John Paul is a shoe-in.

And that's really too bad, because Pope John Paul is the Devil. I am as certain that he is sizzling in Hell as I am that shit smells.

In case you missed it, there was a big scandal in the American Catholic Church within the last ten years. The Boston Globe did a comendable job reporting the story It centered on allegations of child molestation and subsequent cover-ups. The most disgusting, and recurring, instances of child molestation occurred in the Archdiocese of Boston. The nut of the story is this: priests molested kids, when they got caught the church shuffled them into other parishes where they molested more kids. Bernard Law, the Archbishop--and later Cardinal--oversaw all shuffling and cover-ups. He even threatened the Boston Globe with divine retribution at one point.

Bernard Law was also very tight with Pope John Paul. This was a big deal really, that our Archbishop was best buds with the Pope. When I was in second grade, Pope John Paul came to Boston to visit his pal Bernie and the people of Massachusetts. Everyone was so psyched for the papal visit that they cancelled public school that day. Presumably, the government of the commonwealth figued all us little massholes would weep tears of blood if we had to sit through phonics class and were barred from going to see the Pope. I spent the day hanging out with my friend Phil Slaney. We thanked God for the day off from school, and we thanked God even more that our mothers didn't drag us off to some ridiculous church service in honor of the papal visit.

Anyway, the molestation allegations started arriving in court during the late 1990s. With few exceptions, the cases withstood the scrutiny of the courts. Priests were convicted and the conspiracy of the church came out in stark, undeniable relief. People started grumbling for Bernie Law's head on a platter. The attorney general of Massachusetts made moves like he was gonna do it, put the Cardinal up on trial.

Then what happened?

Poof. Bernie is whisked away to the Vatican, traveling on a Vatican passport, guarded from American laws by the godly arms of Pope John Paul II. He remains there to this day, hiding out in the Papal city state, like a spiritual gangster in a witness protection program. I don't think he'll be seen in Brighton or East Boston any time soon.

Now I know Pope John Paul gave hope to millions living under the yoke of communism and all that. Good for him. But harboring an arch-child molester? Does that get overlooked when we evaluate someone's saintliness? Does it matter? The Devil has done his accounting, and I'm sure he's collecting right now.