|DING DONG THE WITCH IS DEAD.|
THE WICKED WITCH IS DEAD.
Just last Christmas, Pope Benedict XVI denounced gay marriage as a "manipulation of nature."
Gee thanks, Scrooge.
The real "manipulation of nature" is forced celibacy in the Catholic priesthood. Just look at how screwed up the reputation of the Catholic church has become over screwed up priests who have preyed on our youngsters instead, and the screwed up cover-up job that ensued within the church's highest halls of power.
Priestly vestments clearly can't conceal human libido and natural need for companionship. What is instead clear is that the more the church enforces its outdated notion of "mortification of the flesh" amongst priests, the more putrid and rotten the body, mind and spirit become.
In his official statement about his upcoming retirement on the 28th of February, Benedict says "old age is beautiful." Fuck that. Look at him and how time - and his actions - have eaten him up. Many people grow old gracefully. He hasn't.
He is claiming old age; I claim good, old fashioned church power grab. He is finally unable to cope with his earlier bad decisions and he is now suffering some sort of cognitive dissonance. This is of course clear to anyone who wants to grab power; I have no doubt that cardinal opportunists (ha, ha) can smell fear and weakness and defeat - and opportunity! - from a mile away. That's a smell that even a thick blanket of frankincense can't unfortunately conceal.
It's convenient to accuse us gays of making the Catholic church an easy, favourite target. But listen. I grew up a good Catholic. I was educated in Catholic schools. I enjoyed singing in the choir, I loved the Psalms, and I still am a staunch believer in the power of prayer. But I also am a living, breathing human being who knows reality outside of church walls.
Change is a reality. You can't deny it. You'll lose if you do.
And this is Benedict's failure.
He has been, and is, unable to cope with the times.
He knows it.
Everyone around him knows it.
His retirement from the papacy is good riddance to bad rubbish.
Don't cry for me, Benedicta.