Here’s this fellow seated on the throne of the world’s biggest religion. No doubt he had the capacity to do great things. At the very least he could have honestly confronted the sexual molestations of his pederast priesthood. Nah, no comment. He could have addressed world hunger, sold off or given some portion of all that vast real estate to house the poor they make their money from; being the world’s biggest landlord… Nah. He could have been more plain spoken than the lip service he gave to Bush’s rush to war but most likely that wouldn’t have been diplomatic. Personally, given the choice between being diplomatic and preventing suffering I think I opt for the latter.
There’s scant mention of the way The Pope marginalized and sent to Catholic Siberia those whose positions didn’t gel with his own conservative viewpoint.
There was something all so telling in its beautiful irony in the way he would slouch forward in his chair and drool on the paper an inch in front of his face as he read off pointless Luddite dogma to the uncomprehending masses. It was as if God was showing you how little effort he was going to put into this performance.
For centuries this heavy, heavy, ponderous, draconian organization has butchered and plotted; has repressed and pronounced behavioral codes (that they never followed), has raked in billions in swag, has wiped out entire peoples and cultures, has sat like a fat, glutted pig upon a false throne, dressed in costume regalia and primped like a chimpanzee in an elaborate gown at a Viennese Waltz and… you don’t need me to give you a laundry list, that’s history’s job… all of a sudden though we are led to believe that, “hey that’s all in the past, we be righteous now.” Nah.
This Pope accomplished dick, nadda. This Pope was okay at kissing the ground in acts of false humility… then again; why was he kissing the ground? Worshipping the raw materials of the material world maybe? He was okay at photo-ops and delivering mind-numbingly boring addresses on how many angels can cross-dress on the head of a pin. He was okay at shaking his head and letting us know how sad he was about all the things he made no effort to prevent or change. He was okay at waving like a Fischer Price doll from the Pope-mobile but… he achieved zip… nothing.
So, what the Hell, let’s spend about fifty million dollars burying the contemporary embodiment of The Peter Principle. Let’s sing a hundred dreary Latin show tunes and wave a bunch of censors; as if the air weren’t clouded enough already with all the smoke they’ve been blowing up the public’s ass. Let’s get fatuous, one dimensional world leaders to come and sit with faux gravitas as they wish Bon Voyage to The Cheese-Head.
Tell me it isn’t tough to be a politician. You couldn’t pay me to sit there in that big drafty movie set on those uncomfortable seats while Byzantine sex freaks mutter bad rhetoric over the remains of a cartoon character from Alice in Wonderland. Meanwhile, outside the gates among the great unwashed, thousands twist their hankies and weep over the passing of a trite sound-bite; a religious talking head whose actual persona they never saw; whose persona they did see was a PR manufactured Vanity Fair ad.
I especially liked seeing the Cardinals in their red bondage outfits with the cute aprons, walking single file, singing with dignity and looking especially holy.
You know what I think? …The bigger the send off, the smaller the reception. You get a funeral like that; something along the lines of what Kissinger and David Rockefeller will get- only bigger and… the funeral of God’s right hand man on Planet Earth; you factor in what The Pope could have done with what the Pope didn’t get done and I think when he gets to St. Peter at the gates that St. Peter is going to ask him did he get lost or something. I would expect St. Peter to say, “Dude, you got your reward, what do you want here?”
The Pope and the church are a fraud. They don’t represent God or the intent of God. They’re a museum of offenses against humanity and they continue to be virtuous despite the overwhelming weight of evidence to the contrary. It was only fitting that Cardinal Law; Boston’s Johnny Cochrane for the defense of the Diocese booty bandits of Boston should preside over one of the main masses for The Pope. Johnny we hardly knew ye.
What a sad, tragic spectacle. What an epic embarrassment of pomp and ceremony with no basis other than repeating a bankrupt tradition of honoring the dishonorable.
Personally I think they should have picked up the remains with a backhoe and just dumped them in a landfill but... that’s just me. They did do that with Mozart, whom- I expect was the reverse of the equation mentioned in this articles headline.
Yes, everything is backwards down here. Open your eyes, its right in front of you. You don’t believe it? Maybe you know things Johnny Boy did that I don’t know about? Maybe you can tell me how we’re all better for his having been here? Maybe you can resolve the constant hypocritical comments and acts with the churches inability to police itself? Maybe you can balance out the sanctimony with the utter neglect of the principles the original founder set forth? Nah. You can’t.
Luckily I don’t watch TV or I’d be less gentle than I am now. I’ve really been awfully restrained in my comments. I’ve understated the whole thing. Maybe I’m just in a charitable mood. For instance, I would piss on him if he were on fire.
I just thought I’d add my two cents for a counter balance to what I’ve seen here on the internet. No doubt I’m wrong and they’re right. After all, I’ve only got the facts on my side.
'The Pope of Rock & Roll Part 2' is track no. 6 of 7 on Visible and The Critical List's 1987 album 'The Pope of Rock and Roll'