The Catholic Church Conspiracy

I toured the Vatican.

But it is smaller than I had pictured. The guide (s) took us to different places and threw enough monologues at us that I grew very sleepy.

Mostly it was rooms, different ones where sections were defined by those velvet ropes on brass stands. Some woman I couldn’t see kept interrupting the guides to ask leading questions about this or that. She had her own instructional monologues. One man (Drink Coke Zero) who smoked (Camel) unfiltered cigarettes with us smokers on a break in a small courtyard (Buy Blue Bunny Ice Cream) had a good voice for his section of the tour and once when I sleepily went from one section to another and left my pack of (Camel Filtered Cigarettes) at the table, he silently went behind me to the next section of the tour and made sure I got them back. He smiled solicitously and made me sick.

The tour of the Sistine Chapel was something I looked forward to (“Anticipation” by Carly Simon plays over a ketchup commercial) and it was taking forever. We were warned in advance that no smoking was allowed and I’m thinking “No shit, lady, us smokers ain’t allowed to smoke nowhere anymore,” because people choke and cough for miles away and I swear you can hear them, or, if they see you light up, they whine, “Oh no, I’m allergic to cigarette smoke,” and you look and they’re all the same, morbidly obese women with suicide blonde hair, yoga pants and a fucked-up attitude…

We were also not to carry any cell phones (Get the new Samsung 360 for only 2,300 dollars and a fifty-five-year contract while this sale lasts), paper clips (Office Depot) or pens (Paper Mate Wright Brothers Pens available in Eckerd’s, Dart Drugs, Read’s Drug Store and Montgomery Ward) and oh jeez shut up already. What did they think we were gonna do, graffiti Michaelangelo’s shit? Make paint chips fall off the walls with Wi-Fi signals? Steal panels by paper-clipping them inside our coats?

The subject of some obscure dead dude who predicted all the names of the popes ending with Francis came up. The theories that Pope Leo XIV is the last one and the third prophecy of Fatima were being discussed at sleep-inducing length. I thought, this was supposed to be a tour.

Instead I was getting half-history, half-conspiracy theories poured straight into my brain by an opening in my skull I never even knew was there ((Ask your doctor if Ketamine is right for you)).

But (((Get Boar’s Head deli meats!))) whatever I was hearing, it seemed like I could never see the speaker. Their voices were always behind me. That just didn’t seem right.

Then, in a section marked off with large white ribbons or crepe paper (Party City has everything you need for your next indoctrination) hundreds of school children on some sick field trip were filling steel fold-up chairs in front of us. One youth was carrying an Igloo container full of grape (Yeah, Kool-Aid’s here, bringing you cheer) drink. He offered a cup to a kid who did that weird punk shrug in defiance. I decided I hate kids on the spot. Rebellious wastrels with a diminished respect for free speech who then turn out to spout the worst, most mindless crap you ever heard because they watch Tik Tok all day and eat shrooms (Fresh Portabello mushrooms at your neighborhood Giant, only 10.99 a pound!) or sneak (Pabst Blue Ribbon Beer) into their bedrooms and brag in school the next day that they drank a six pack last night even though one can of warm hick beer had them puking for an hour. They’re stupid. They’re limpets mom will never see move out.

Sometimes things don’t work out. The tour ended without the Sistine Chapel.

By then I was so weary that all I wanted was a smoke (Come to where the flavor is. Come to Marlboro Country!) and some sleep.

I did, however, find myself in a small connecting corridor looking for the Men’s room. I had to go.

Now, I don’t care for conspiracy theories, which is why I lampooned the really sick ones about The Brady Bunch and Gilligan’s Island, so if you want, you can read those. Conspiracy theories are a waste of time because they’re usually absurd and paranoid in nature, and can neither be proved nor disproved because people don’t listen to the truth, they’d prefer a lie any day.

Faked “evidence” is all over the place on the Internet and stacks at libraries, if there are any of those left.

The recent flood of conspiracy theories including the resurgence of the Apollo moon landings make me sick. Look, if you don’t believe they happened then that’s your decision. Remember, though, it’s a choice.

And remember that we have all chosen to believe lies before. Sometimes, we just didn’t know. But sometimes we were staring straight down the throat of the truth, and along came some Fox TV special about mysterious black boxes in cars that made them crash or lead police into high-speed chases. And of course, the one about Stanley Kubrick faking the moon landings with NASA.

I’m not going to bother with that crap. If you want to believe that hundreds of people kept those a secret, that nobody talked, goody. But it is truly stupid.

And another thing.

While subliminal advertising may have or maybe just once been rumored to exist and work, and could even be in use today, there’s no reason to believe it does work, or is necessary at all, when real commercial ads have you craving KFC at two in the morning when nothing is open and the only KFC you know of is 75 miles away.

Oh, and the Vatican tour?

About that: I don’t care about the archive rumors. I don’t care for Dan Brown’s novels. I don’t care about Catholic-Nazi collaboration in WW 2. I don’t care if the church made a deal with the Devil in Hell himself, if, in the end, it saved innocent lives, or even if it didn’t but was intended to, then I at least can understand that. Whether you or I approve makes no difference; it’s done. Long ago, done and over.

I think the Catholic Church does make one mistake, though.

In the grand trappings of the priests, bishops, cardinals and the Pope, there’s nothing holy. They’re just men, and Jesus never said for his disciples to stand out like that. He did pronounce words to the Pharisees, describing them as whitewashed on the outside but on the inside being full of dead men’s bones. That’s a pretty big deal.

His ministry was humble. Simple. He offered hope in a land where little was to be found under Rome’s hobnailed boots. He gave us all the promise that faith would be rewarded to those who believe and hold out to the end. But of gold and silver candlesticks, paintings and painted ceilings and walls with images, he would repeat that none of it was holy, none of it would get anyone into Heaven, and that works mean nothing next to faith.

Trappings of wealth or status are horrifying to me and that’s why I loved Francis. He didn’t live in Vatican City or wear the ridiculous Halloween costume (Party City has all your cosplay and Halloween party needs!) of tradition.

My tour of The Vatican was a miserable one. Maybe.

Or maybe I awoke at 03:47, accidentally ingested two Blue Bunny Ice cream sandwiches, chased them with a cup of Columbian brew, and turned on a documentary about the prophecy of the popes, put my headphones on and fell back asleep, forgetting about auto play and sleeping listlessly through programs about the Vatican, Nostradamus, and Catholic Church conspiracy theories.

No wonder the voices sounded like they were behind me.

So the next time you think you have it bad, just remember, you’ll sleep better with the TV off.

In fact, just unplug the bloody thing.

Have a wonderful weekend. I won’t. Because maybe subliminal advertising is real (I smoke Marlboro cigarettes, not Camels. But I do have the impulse to go to Party City, buy a Rambo costume, and hunt wild boars with a knife. And eat their heads.

Sure is a good thing ain’t no boar around here!

The nerve of this mutt.

I have a headache (Get Extra Strength Tylenol).

You love fortune cookies. You want to buy a whole case right now. You want to share them with all of your friends.

You do.

“For You, The Impossible Does Not Exist”

Pope Francis has performed a miracle. The boy had epilepsy and was autistic. He left the stage with the Pontiff’s cap. The boy has since experienced an improvement in his condition. The Pope had said to the boy’s mother, “For you, the impossible does not exist.”

This is faith. True faith, a belief so strong that, had anyone else said it, she probably would have felt patronized. She probably would have thought, How do you know? Have you ever tried raising a boy with so many problems?

But she didn’t, because he’s Pope Francis, and people who meet him come away impressed by his faith, gentle nature, love for others, and always encouragement to children.

It reminds me of the time a boy named Emanuel was unsure about whether his father, who had recently passed away ,was in Heaven.

I like to watch this from time to time. A boy’s love for his daddy is profound and deep; Emanuel was worried for his father’s soul. Pope Francis encouraged Emanuel to come and whisper in his ear the question, “Is my papa in Heaven?”

The answer is touching. His father had four children. He made sure all were baptized even though he was an unbeliever. Francis reasoned that it was much easier for a believer to do this than an unbeliever. Surely, he said, this pleased God. Could God really turn his back on such a good-hearted man?

Pope Francis is an extraordinary man of faith, a faith so strong that I cannot help myself from wishing that I could have just half that much. I think that, sometimes, people need to be reminded that God is not so high up from us, and never too far away to send messages about faith through people who have it, to those who need it.

And let’s not forget the time Francis stopped his driver when he spotted a boy in a wheelchair. That man’s current status is unknown to me, but I know this act of love surely helped. After the video made it to the news, people used a crowd funding site to donate to the family. They needed a new van with a wheelchair lift. The goal was passed and then some–a hundred thousand dollars eventually made it to the family.

I suppose my dark soul needed to see this story. I suppose lots of souls must. Christians are not made up entirely of the far-right, scripture quoting, hateful, racist, greedy leaders and followers. Those are the most visible and vocal. Peter Popoff is such a creature, bilking millions over the years from his outrageous cult followers who can’t understand that his commercials offering miracle water are so sleazy that nobody who is not shielded by religious non-profit statuses would ever get away with that stupidity.

I need, I guess, to be reminded that people of real faith do exist. And that for them, the impossible does not exist.

Because they worship God, not money. They pray for their papas, or their children. They don’t ask for money, and they never pray for power.

A good day to you. May you be blessed and be free of the impossible.

Pat Robertson Prays To Jesus For An Election Result Reversal

Televangelist Pat Robertson has come up with some goofy ideas in his time. He once thought God wanted the United States to assassinate Hugo Chavez.

Aside from the fact that Robertson claims to be a Christian and not an orthodox Jew, meaning that the law would permit execution by mobs with stones as opposed to the forgiveness and mercy preached by Jesus of Nazareth, theres a bigger issue here.

Robertson announced that “we cannot let this stand” and in so doing actually incited rebellion by Christians against the laws and government of the United States. He also came dangerously close to pleading to Satan for him to cease making people believe that Joe Biden won.

Technically this is a misuse of the tenets and intent of Christianity. It, like so much of what he says in the name of God, is heresy.

That’s scary. Heretics, as judged by inquisition in the past, were often executed. Usually in public and by extreme methods. Those who were spared were often forced to undergo torture to determine if they were witches or possessed by demons as well as spreading ideas and views not condoned by the church. At first the Roman Catholic Church but even, and especially after the reformation, it kept happening. Protestants are not guiltless in evil practices now or through their history.

Only today, for the most part, it is not the Roman Catholic Church engaging in heresy, but ultra conservative Christians from the protestant churches. Pope Francis is often referred to as a heretic for being too progressive. That is nonsense; he merely recognizes that all people have the right to seek God and pray in His house. He raised eyebrows when he told a boy that his father was surely in Heaven. The boy grieved for his papa, who was an atheist but had his four children baptized. Watch this extraordinary video and you can see Christ working through Francis. Because surely this is what Jesus would do:

Francis has never liked the actions or the words of President Trump. He knows that Trump is no Christian. I wonder what he’d say about Pat Robertson.

Calling out on television for Democrats to be executed by firing squad was one recent example of one televangelist going far outside the laws set forth by Jesus in his New Covenant. From the days before Constantine, Christians have shed blood and rebelled with murderous results, always against the teachings of Christ, in whose name they killed.

Today, there is genuine reason for concern. In the latter books of the Bible, whether Protestant or Catholic canon, there are many warnings about “apostasy” in the prophecy of the last days. It is even mentioned in Daniel.

Apostasy is, simply put, false teaching. In other words heresy in word and put into practice. And it is everywhere, never more so than the protestant right, the Evangelical churches and in televangelists. I have said before and repeat it here: no one can support Donald Trump and be a Christian. The two are grossly at odds with each other. Donald Trump cares nothing for God, and he panders to evangelicals for their support. Money. Votes. Otherwise he has no use, only contempt, for them.

The proof is glaring: three thousand children were kidnapped by the United States, children of immigrants. Most are lost forever as the bureaucracy failed to monitor and document their dispersal to facilities in various states, including at least one operated by Betsy DeVos. Conflict of interest? Nope. She did whatever Trump wanted her to do.

Then there was the travesty of his foreign policy. A disastrous mess wherein allies were denigrated and enemies put upon pedestals. The Russia scandal was, and remains, all too real. Vladimir Putin had long before compromised Trump through financial debt and illegal dealings as well as a possible sexual scandal. Men were convicted of complicity with Russian operatives and more in the 2016 Trump campaign and more is being revealed as I write this.

The pandemic has offered Trump every chance to make good decisions and to mitigate the impact. He has steadfastly refused all opportunities and instead committed more crimes against humanity, this time directly victimizing the citizens of the country he swore to faithfully serve. The coronavirus continues to spread, but Trump takes credit for a vaccine, a bold lie, just one of many thousands he’s told in the time since he announced his candidacy in 2015. And the results of those lies are tragic: so many shattered lives, so many dead. Children traumatized and forever wounded. Inept, ignorant leaders have gone in and out the revolving doors of the White House. It never ends.

This Christmas season, an important holiday for Christians, is not a happy time. The people who started the year 2020 with jobs and whole families are mourning the deaths of a quarter million kin and friends, they have no food to eat, their friends have abandoned them, and they cannot heat their homes as winter weather moves in. Utilities shut off service, moratoriums on evictions have expired, and anyone proud of what Donald Trump has done is brainwashed or delusional, which should really scare you. There’s no cure for that except the power of the very God so many claim to serve, yet fail to do while inflicting pain and engaging in terrorism through speech and hateful behavior.

The miracle Pat Robertson prays for will not happen. The electoral votes have been officially sealed by Congress and Joe Biden is our president-elect. I find it comforting and hopeful that he and his vice president will repair some of the damage done by Trump and his unholy political allies, but it will take time. They will be dealing with Mitch McConnell, for one thing, a man so devoid of humanity that the words “let them die” have actually come from him. Food stamps, disability benefits, social security and every kind of aid the poor and infirm depend upon to survive have all been targeted by McConnell and others. He’s inhuman yet Pat Robertson and the base Evangelicals back him.

Which doesn’t make sense because Evangelical leaders like Robertson have Christian charity programs, which makes them the super-hypocrites of the modern age.

I contend that these people are not only not true Christians, but that they are frauds who never believed in the divinity of Jesus.

They take photographs and videos of truckloads of bottled water arriving at scenes of recent disasters but Jesus warned, “when you give alms, do not be showy. Do it quietly.” It’s good that they help. But the way they present themselves as good guys in white hats saving the world is a sin, a lie and wrong.

What’s even worse is that some pastors claim the “seed gospel”, a money scam that, once begun, can bilk gullible people out of thousands of dollars. They promise you riches and prosperity but what usually happens is that people get relieved of their savings, and, their faith shattered, leave the church and become bitter opposition to all Christians everywhere. That’s a terrible, horrible way to end up.

People who go to a church seeking God, seeking spiritual help especially in times like this, often end up worse off than before they went.

Now, Christians, real believers, are leaving the churches.

Jesus surely hates what has been done in his name. One of his warnings went like this: “In this world you will have a lot of troubles, but be brave, for I have conquered the world.”

You know he never promised anything else; of the rich, he said that a camel could more easily pass through the eye of a needle than could a rich man enter God’s kingdom. That’s not subtle; the reference to a needle’s eye was a narrow and low city gate. Even a horse would have trouble with some of them since the whole idea of a wall and gate was for defense against military attack.

He also said that anyone who wanted to follow him had to take up their own crosses and follow him while bearing that burden. Carrying a cross was not meant as a separate ordeal in itself. It meant trial, torment, being hated, hunted, scorned, beaten and killed. His charge was to lead simple lives and to have faith. And a little bit of faith can do wonders.

After the events in my post “Attacked!” I asked for help from a Catholic priest. I know he did the Rosary and prayed. Since then no further attacks have happened, and the only thing bothering me is the usual nightmares. Demons love to play in dreams. As spirits, they can do that. And the closer you get to belief and Christian faith, the better the chances are of drawing an attack. Satan doesn’t want you to start believing in him. But when you do, he hates it and goes to work.

In these days of suffering and death, I find comfort that the Virgin Mother is open to our pleas. Cry out to her, and she will intercede and pray for you; this is powerful faith. Pat Robertson doesn’t understand things like that. He’s lost his way, he speaks heresy and promotes hate.

The protests in Washington are all about Trump being wrongfully deposed. Behold, a preacher who holds up a demon as God’s chosen.

Men like Robertson drive and fuel the bigoted hatred they are supposed to proclaim are hateful before God.

Remember what Christmas is really about. Remember one special woman who believes in you as much as she believed in God when she was visited by an angel. Think about love, forgiveness, compassion, anonymity and charity. Help people who need it, and don’t regret it for a minute. Remember he whose life we’re about to celebrate in our hearts, no matter our situation.

Above all else, try not to feel hate. It will never help you with your troubles. It has never served me well.

God bless you, and, for what it’s worth, have a happy Christmas as best you can.