__
                    __ _ / _|_ __ ___
           _____   / _` | |_| '_ ` _ \   _____
          |_____| | (_| |  _| | | | | | |_____|
                   \__,_|_| |_| |_| |_|
                   Another Foggy Moment

 These are the continuing adventures of a typical resident
 of the self-proclaimed center of the Pugetopolis universe -
 Seattle. Most are true stories but some are made of whole-
 cloth. I ain't the Mayor, the Governor or a Big Shot. Just
 another Working Stiff with a Bad Attitude.

    ------------------------------------------------
    WARNING: This is not a Child-Proof Neighborhood.
    If you're a kid - scram!, beat it! you little
    punk before your Old Lady catches you and calls
    the cops. They'll throw you in the Big House in
    Walla Walla and won't let you out until you're
    89 years old. There. Don't say I didn't warn you.
    -------------------------------------------------

                        - 152 -

 Thursday will be the 75th birthday of the Montlake Bridge,
 the eastern-most of the five elgegant and classy old lift
 bridges over the ship canal that winds its way between Puget 
 Sound and Lake Washington, through Seattle's neighborhoods.
 I don't know if it's related to this anniversary or not,
 but they closed her down and cleaned her up real good this 
 past weekend while the I-520 floating bridge (her main 
 source of traffic off Montlake Way) was closed for 
 maintenance.

 'Tis the seaon to whoop it up. Up in Vancouver (BC) 
 the Chinese Dragon Boats were out in False Creek for 
 the annual races. Amongst the teams entered last year 
 was one made up of blind guys and another of Lesbians. 
 And of course the pagans in Fremont (aka Adobe-ville) 
 held their annual summer heathen-fest. No debate this 
 year about the Naked Lady so I guess, after years of 
 flaunting their immorality in the Hooterville Yacht 
 Club's face, they have finally ceased resisting and 
 allowed themselves to be assimilated. Sigh. Thank 
 God the Lusty Lady's still open or wimpy Seattle geeks 
 would go through life thinking all nekkid women looked 
 their sock-puppets.

 While others were frivilously gratifying the base senses,
 Ham Radio operators across North America were camping 
 out on mountaintops and in cow pastures for their ancient,
 annual "Field Day". Nominally a test of their ability to 
 set up under emergency conditions and rack up as many
 contacts as possible, they often make an extended BBQ out
 of it. I heard U Dub's Prof. Phelps, K7UW, author of the 
 best-selling math thriller "Lecture Notes on Choquet's 
 Theorem", feeding points to the FD crowd early Sunday
 morning from his secret lab deep within the Grungy bowels
 of the U District. 

                              *

 What goes around, comes around. Two families grieve today 
 in King County. Both because of the Sheriff's Department.
 One, the family of a black man murdered at point-blank 
 range by an off-duty, out-of-uniform deputy who couldn't 
 be bothered identifying himself when he approached the man's
 truck with hostile intentions. The other, that of a deputy
 who was shot to death this weekend with his own weapon by 
 a crazy, naked black man he was trying to non-lethally 
 subdue. One deputy who walked away from murder and another
 who died while trying to save a life. One tragedy after 
 another.

 Pepper spray is for inflicting pain. Stun guns are for 
 disabling people. The one only works sometimes, the other 
 ALWAYS works. Maybe "Cadillac" Sims and his buddies outta 
 get off their fat asses and properly equip their deputies.
 And clean up that filthy mess at the KingCo Jail while
 they're at it.

                            *

 Juneteenth...
 It was on June 19, 1865, three years after Abe Lincoln
 issued the Emancipation Proclaimation, that the United
 States Army rode into Texas and nailed a most peculiar 
 notice up on town bulletin boards:

     "The people of Texas are informed that in
      accordance with a Proclamation from the
      Executive of the United States, all slaves
      are free. This involves an absolute equality
      of rights and rights of property between
      former masters and slaves, and the connection
      heretofore existing between them becomes that
      between employer and free laborer."
                 
 And forever more, June 19th aka Juneteenth, became a
 major African-American holiday in Texas. Each year
 BBQs, baseball games, picnics and rodeos marked this
 event. It has since spread far and wide and is rapidly
 becoming a national event exclusively reserved for our
 Black community. It has been celebrated by Seattle's
 African-American community since the very earliest 
 days of the this city's existence and continues to 
 be celebrated here. Happy Juneteenth! Free at last!
 Lord God Almighty! Free at last!

                           *

 It was 16 months ago that the Canadian fishing vessel 
 "Western Wind" was nabbed by the Coasties off Cape
 Flattery with two and half TONS of cocaine on board. 
 The largest bust ever in Northwest history. A huge
 haul. The boat went into a Port Angeles dock for a 
 closer look while the all-Canuk crew were checked into
 their suites at the Heartbreak Hotel. And that appeared
 to be that. 

 Then suddenly the charges were dropped and the crew 
 released to Canadian authorities. There still haven't 
 been any charges laid and the crew remain free.

 Confused and often contradictory news reports at the 
 time made it sound like our Coasties blew the bust. We
 were led to believe they jumped the gun and boarded the
 boat in international waters just ahead of a Canadian
 warship full of Mounties and a small fleet of Canadian
 Forces helicopters who were also on the way to nab the
 WESTERN WIND. The Canuks insisted on jurisdiction and
 we, good neighbors that we are, complied. 

 This was not true. As usual, our News Nazis didn't know 
 what they were talking about and botched the story. To 
 this day they haven't bothered correcting themselves.

 The REAL story was far more interesting. The skipper of
 the WESTERN WIND was a paid RCMP informant who was in
 the process of delivering a shipment of cocaine he had
 picked up in Columbia. He originally, while negotiating
 a Columbian pickup, made a deal with the Mounties where,
 in exchange for a Million Bucks and inclusion in the 
 witness-protection program, he would lead them to the 
 Big Boyz (thought to be Hells Angels) who put up the 
 $40 MegaBucks for the shipment. But a Pollock RCMP 
 Inspector in Ottawa with an unpronouncable name, calling 
 the shots on the deal, nixed it. No million bucks. No 
 witness-protection program. Deal's off. The Skipper 
 finds this rather disappointing news and goes fishing 
 to forget his troubles. He don't tell them he's already
 made the deal for picking up the cocaine. Slipped his
 mind I guess.

 While he's out there fishing, he claims he gets some very 
 strange emails. Certain parties are saying they will do 
 some very nasty things to his everloving wife and kids if 
 he don't immediately quit fishing and head down to Columbia 
 to pick up some cocaine. Naturally this worries him to the 
 point where he don't feel like fishing no more. So he heads 
 south. Not wanting to endanger his everloving wife and 
 kiddies, he doesn't tell the Mounties about this. That's 
 okay - a little birdie tells them anyways.
 
 But this unexpected news throws the Mounties into a bit of 
 a tizzie. No longer in touch with him but aware of the fact
 that he was arranging for the Nose Candy, they were worried 
 he might make a delivery before they catch up with him. So 
 they ask our Coasties to grab him enroute. A short while later, 
 sure enough, here he comes chugging up the coast looking a 
 little heavy in the nose. A joint RCMP/USCG boarding party 
 makes him heave-to while he's off the Olympic Peninsula and 
 invite themselves on-board for tea and crumpets. As they're 
 chatting with the Skip and he's telling them how great the 
 fishing is, a couple of the boys were wandering around down 
 below looking for the bathroom. That's when they found the 
 two and half tons of cocaine in the bow. Oppsie!

 They give him two choices:
 (1) get arrested and spend the rest of his life in prison,
     or,
 (2) testify against the drug buyers in exchange for being
     hid in the witness-protection program. No million Bucks.

 Being no dummy, he chooses #2. But no sooner do they cut the
 deal with him than Inspector Pollock back in Ottawa says no
 deal - he ain't going to put him in the witness-protection
 program. Being no chump, the Skip buttons up tighter than 
 a clam at low tide. Screw them. He ain't talking no more 
 without a lawyer.

 Our Coasties, still curious about who might be waiting at
 the dock in Victoria, suggest that THEY bring the boat into
 themselves. Inspector Pollock in Ottawa says 'no' yet again.
 No armed foreign police allowed to operate in Canada. You
 think maybe this Bohunk smells a little funny? Me too. 

 Out of options, our Coasties said to themselves, "What the
 hell. If we can't have the buyers, we'll take the drugs. 
 She's in American waters. She's our boat now." and seized 
 the WESTERN WIND, her Skipper, her crew and her two and
 a half tons of Nose Candy. Off they went to Port Angeles.

 As the prosecutors are checking the Skip and his crew into
 their new digs, they ask the Mounties for the police files
 on these guys so they can draw up the charges against them. 
 Polite and courteous as Canuks are, and seeing as how we're 
 both on the same side, they naturally expect no complications. 
 So you can imagine their surprise when the Dudley Do-Rights 
 refused to provide the requested files. They don't snitch on 
 their snitches. Not for anybody, not under any circumstances.

 Getting the Cold Shoulder from the Mounties, our prosecutors
 were stumped and unable to do much. So they shrugged their
 shoulders, threw the skip and his crew back over the border,
 destroyed the drugs and kept the ship. Not much else they
 could do.

 See. If you do it right, you too can come sailing into port 
 with tons of illegal drugs and walk away a free man. Just
 buy yourself a Pollock RCMP Inspector first. As for the kid 
 in South Central L.A. who got 15 years in the Slammer for 
 having a few grams of crack on him - tough luck chump.

                           *

 Gaak, as tiny and crude as his little robot brain is, didn't
 take long to figure out the score. One of a number of robots
 at the Magna Science Center in Yorkshire, England capable of 
 'learning' from their actions and sent into a Survivor-style 
 environment designed to 'select out' the weak and unfit, 
 decided after a couple weeks to bust outta that Joint. He 
 found his way out the front door and was passing into the 
 parking lot when he almost got run over. They led him back. 
 They always catch me in the parking lot too. Call a cab next
 time Gaak, and tell the driver to put it on the Lab's tab.

.............................................................

 Haldeman: ...the great thing about it is that the whole 
           thing is so totally fucked up so badly done 
           that nobody believes...
 Nixon:    ...that we could have done it...
 Haldeman: That's right! It's beyond comprehension.

         - President Nixon & Bob Haldeman -
           discussing the Watergate breakin
                   (from the tape)

Ref:  Daily Bleed
.............................................................

               JUDGE JIMMY BAGS A GEEZER

 He's finally out. Mr. Trummel was finally released, after 
 100+ days, from KingCo Jail on Monday and given until 
 Friday to delete parts of his webpage:
                     Contracabal.org
 He has done so and he explains why on his website. It's
 his ass, his call.

 Of course the original uncensored version remains cached
 on many search engines and can be viewed at your leisure.
 And it also remains mirrored in its entirety at too many 
 places to mention. Since a number of outfits archive 
 webpages on a mass-scale for historical reasons, the 
 uncensored version has also been safety preserved for 
 posterity. No doubt somebody will sell you a CD of it.
 You put something up on the Web, you no longer control 
 it. It becomes the property of the Matrix. But clueless
 little Hicktown judges don't know about complex matters
 like that. Just makes them dizzy.

 Taking a page straight out of Kafka, three months ago, 
 Judge Jimmy "The Token Twinkie" Doerty of KingCo Inferior 
 Court did something pretty weird even for an inexperienced
 Hicktown judge. He ordered somebody to do something, 
 then made it physically impossible for them to comply. 
 It's called a Bad Faith Order. He ordered Mr. Trummel to 
 take down his webpage critical of Capital Hill's Council 
 House - the Old Geezers home he lived in - then had him 
 thrown in the Slammer without access to the webpage he 
 was ordered to take down. Doh!

 This caused quite an uproar. All over the world, people
 where amazed and fascinated by Mr. Trummel odd plight
 and Judge Jimmy's stupidity. Not only did the punishment 
 bear little resemblance to the offence, but the offence
 made no sense at all. They deluged KingCo Inferior Court 
 asking what in the hell was going on over there. There 
 was such a stink raised that Judge Jimmy was strongly 
 encouraged by his superiors to 'take another look' at the 
 case. He did so on Monday.

 So what do you do if you're a Big Shot Inferior Court
 judge like Jimmy and you know that, aside from not
 having a legal leg to stand on, you've screwed up 
 Bigtime, bringing unwelcome international attention and 
 embarassment to your court? Do you just honorably admit 
 you're an idiot whose emotions got the better of you,
 and correct your mistakes? 

 Heck no. Taking a page out of Cardinal Law's "Hypocrites
 Guide To Faking It", Judge Jimmy tried to bluff his way
 out of his dilemma. Afterall, like Cardinal Law, Jimmy 
 don't have to worry about picking up the Tab on his 
 mistakes. The Little People will take care of it. Worse
 comes to worse, he'll be sitting On Top of the World with
 a whopping huge government pension. So, naturally, he took 
 the Low Road: If you can't dazzle them with your wit, 
 baffle them with your bullshit. I think it was Machiavelli 
 said that, but I could be wrong. Enter Judge Jimmy "Champion 
 of the Little Fellow". What the hell...it was worth a try.

 On Monday, sounding more like a 12-year old kid throwing 
 a Hissy Fit than an distinguished jurist, Jimmy plunked 
 his smug little tushy on the bench and began loudly 
 ranting, raving and foaming at the mouth about homophobes, 
 misogynists, bigots and other intolerant bastards. He
 wisely left out Foes of Free Speech. Small children, dogs 
 and little old ladies fled in terror. Spectators gasped in
 amazement at such a candid confession of guilt from a public
 servant. But Jimmy quickly corrected their misapprehension
 and clairified that he was talking about Mr. Trummel's
 webpage and not his own senselessly cruel and indecent 
 year-long personal vendetta against Mr. Trummel.

 He got a little carried away when he accused Mr. Trummel, 
 who is of Jewish ancestry, of being an anti-Semite. Oi! 
 Mr. Trummel's Jewish lawyer got a kick outta that one too. 
 The rest of Jimmy's rant was likewise straight out of the 
 Twilight Zone. I'm glad this knucklehead ain't around kids 
 no more. 

 The Grande Finale was a stunning and breathtaking display 
 of pecksniffery. Imagine! This judicial hypocrite who, at
 enormous expense to the taxpayers of this County and for 
 the sake of a piddly no-rate misdemnor on a par with
 jaywalking and illegal parking
   - rendered a retiree homeless, 
   - buried him in a ton of legal debt, 
   - locked him up in solitary confinement for over 100 days 
   - and exposed him to TB, 
 had the nerve to call Mr. Trummel a 'mean old man'!? Either 
 Judge Jimmy has a weird sense of humor or he's a little out
 of touch with reality. If going through something like that
 don't make you mean, nothing will. And for what? Just because
 he had the nerve to talk back to the scumbags who run Council
 House. Pshaw!

 The Hooterville Yacht Club played its traditional supporting
 role. Always willing to help out a fellow HYC member like
 Jimmy, our News Nazis pulled one of their classic Hack Jobs 
 on Mr. Trummel. These tawdry affairs are like amateurishly 
 crude examples of propaganda out of a high-school civics 
 text books. If there was a Pulitzer for Best Hack Job, they 
 wouldn't even be worthy of a nomination. They ain't got no 
 class at all. But then neither do the bums who read their 
 garbage.

 It was similar to the bigots unsuccessful attempt to smear that 
 sassy Negro whom they wrongfully accused of bonking ex-Mayor 
 Paulie on the noggin. They had him down as the most dangerous
 Badass Black Man in America. The guy was innocent and, despite 
 acting as his own lawyer in court, was easily able to outwit 
 the dumbass the KingCo Prosecutor's Office sent over to hang 
 him. They're lucky they didn't get their asses sued off. One 
 of these days, their luck is going to run out.

 Examples of their redefinitions:
 - sassy pensioner         becomes...  cranky old man
 - documented injustices      "        slandered and harassed 
                                            management
 - self-employed	      "        unemployable
 - freelance journalist       "        unemployable writer
 - former journalism prof     "        fired university employee
 - 30+ CH residents who       "        (unmentioned)
   supported Mr. Trummel 

 I ain't making this up. It's right there in their articles.

 Babbling on about Mr. Trummel being completely unqualified to 
 be considered a journalist, they somehow failed to explain how 
 he managed to TWICE get appointments at major universities as 
 a Journalism PROF. You mean just anybody can walk into U Dub
 and get a job teaching anything they feel like teaching? Wow! 
 And here all this time I thought you had to be qualified. 
 Pshaw! How foolish of me.

 And I'm sure the clients of 'freelance' doctors, dentists, 
 engineers, lawyers, carpenters and electricians - self-employed
 by any other name - will be shocked to learn that they've been
 dealing with frauds and imposters all these years. If the bums
 can't get a regular job with a regular company then they ain't
 got no damn business calling themselves professionals. The
 noive of them! How in the world have they managed to get away
 with this travesty of justice for so long? Somebody call the
 Cops!

 Do you really have to be a lying retard to be a reporter 
 in Seattle? Seems so. What's really amazing is that they 
 imagine anyone reads their bullshit any more. We got toilet
 paper nowadays. We don't need newspapers any more.

 While hardly an enjoyable experience, Mr. Trummel's stay in
 KingCo Jail has given him another journalistic line of
 investigation - the prisoners he was bunking with and the
 stories they had to tell. Quite a few of them are African-
 Americans and, no doubt, a couple of them were put in there
 by bigots like Judge Jimmy. Jimmy aint' heard the last from
 him. It'd be worth keeping an eye on Paul's webpage. Should 
 be interesting.

 BTW - Most of what you read in our magazines and newspapers
       is written by self-employed, freelance journalists.
       The journals involved buy it off of them. It may be
       news to Bozos like Judge Jimmy but it has been going 
       on for centuries.

.....................................................................

 I had none of the illusions of youth. I knew that I would never
 become President of the United States. I came, on both sides,
 from drunken barbarians who groveled in supersition and were
 as illiterate as geese. All the vast realms of knowledge and
 beauty were closed to me. Nearly all my mother's brothers were
 half mad. Most of my father's people were witty Irish morons.
 My mother had moods that lasted for days...I inherited her
 moods and silences along with the wild blood which flowed in
 two rivers of half insane Irish.

                        - Jim Tully -
                    aka "Cinicinnatti Red"
                   Inveterate library bum,
                            Hobo,
                        Famous Writer,
         inventor of the 'Hard-Boiled' American genre
................................................................... 

                      'OL YELLER'S TWAT
               (aka The War Against Terrorism)

 It's been a slow week for Yeller's TWAT. It's hard to fight a
 war without an enemy. Takes all the fun out of it. You can only
 chase Boogermen around for so long before it gets boring. Even
 those bogus FBI and Coast Guard warnings just don't hack it
 these days. Everyone stopped listening to their ass-covering 
 bullshit. 

 The raving bigots of Israel continue to bang their heads against
 the wall. That's the new one they're building to keep out the
 suicide bombers. Problem is, it ain't working. It's put our
 Executive coon-ass hillbilly in a bit of a spot. He keeps trying
 to announce his wing-ding temporary Palestinian state and the
 suicide bombers keep interupting him. Sooner or later maybe he'll
 get the message: nobody gives a damn what he has to say. He's
 irrelevant. Shut up and go watch TV stupid.

 The Israelis got theirs and the Palestinians ain't gonna stop
 until they get theirs. Give them their goddam homeland or there
 will be no peace. Capice? 

 What a disappointment eh. The Pakistanis and Indians didn't 
 nuke each other. Our Chief War Monger "Rummy" Rumsfeld, 
 stepping in to do General Powell's SecState job again, tried 
 to nudge them into it but they just wouldn't budge. The Israelis 
 had their nukes all set to help out the Indians but they got 
 screwed on the deal too. All our News Nazis had their rad-
 sickness pills and spiffy new mylar rad-suits packed and ready 
 to go at a moments notice. What fun it would have been wallowing 
 through irradiated corpses of little brown people. Damn! War 
 is hell sometimes! 

 Predictably enough, the Department of Defense is hanging the
 blame for the bombing deaths of four Canadian Forces members 
 on the pilot. They always do that. They stick a sub Skipper 
 with a boat load of civilian idiots and instruct him to 
 'entertain' them. When an accident happens as a result - 
 it's his fault, not theirs of course. My all time fav is 
 that sailor who got smeared for the explosion aboard that 
 big, old battleship back in the Ronny Ray-Gun days. They not 
 only wrongly blamed him (it was an equipment failure) but 
 they claimed he was Queer to boot. He wasn't. You'd have 
 to be some kind of a retard to work for jerks like that.

 The anthrax nutcase is still out there somewhere. Yes, 
 Virginia, you CAN kill many people with the help of the 
 U.S. Post Office and get away with it. Just ask the 
 Unibomber. He did it for over 20 years. If his brother 
 hadn't turned him in, he'd still be in his little Montana 
 shack hard at work on the next bomb. The FBI didn't even 
 come close to finding him. Does this qualify the USPS as 
 a terrorist organization? How about the FBI? Book 'em
 Dan-o! 
 
....................................................................

                    -  MONDO VATICANO -

 The American bishops meeting in Dallas proved to be as big 
 a waste of time as the BBQ at the old Pollock's place in 
 Roma. Just another cheap Spinfest. Aside from PR and trying 
 to give the appearance of 'doing something' about their 
 pervert priests without actually going to the bother, this 
 meeting seemed to have little other purpose. And, by most 
 accounts, it failed miserably even to accomplish that much. 
 Afterwards, polls showed the vast, overwhelming majority of 
 Catholics were deeply disappointed at the outcome.

 The bishops have made themselves irrelevant. All their useless
 chatter about 'first one is free' and 'two strikes, yer out'
 is meaningless. The law is clear: you diddle kids, you do time.
 You hide perverts and refuse to cooperate with the civil
 authorities, you also will be doing time. It's just as simple
 as that. The bishops may be lacking in common moral sense but
 the Cops and judges ain't. Nobody down at the Police Station 
 or the Courthouse gives a damn what the old Queens at the U.S. 
 Conference of Bishops think about the matter. They keep hiding
 perverts, they WILL get busted.

 The amazing thing is, the bishops seem utterly unaware of this
 reality. I don't know if its arrogance, stupidity or panic but
 they seem unable and unwilling to take any practical steps to
 help themselves. Instead of operating from Catholic traditions, 
 they are wandering around disoriented and confused - anchorless 
 in a sea of turmoil - lacking even the compass of common decency. 
 Can institutions get Altzheimers? It appears so.

 Just where is all this going? 

 The church has survived these many centuries not because of its
 size and international character, nor because of its wealth or
 power. It has survived because of its exceptional diversity. 
 It's one huge and ancient Ball 'o Mud. The world only sees the 
 Pope and Curia Queens, the pagentry of ancient ceremonial, the
 funny clothes and pretty pink altarboys thinking that is the 
 Church. Unh unh. Behind that unseen is a vast, turbulent, surging, 
 undisciplined, unruly, feuding, brawling mob of weird and crazy 
 people. The kind of people who talk to inanimate objects and
 keep pieces of dead priests/nuns under their pillows.

 An ancient family of quarreling, hungry, selfish children as 
 much at war with one another as with the world. One that 
 embraces such wildly differing versions of Catholicism as the 
 peace-loving Society of St. Egidio and the fascists at Opus 
 Dei; the legendary radical Berrigan Brothers and paranoid 
 "Wild Bill" Donahue of the Catholic League; the Columbian 
 Freedom-Fighter Fr. Camillio Torres and the butt-kissing 
 Toady Cardinal Dulles. All from the same vast, rich and 
 ancient Catholic traditions. God's naughty Catholic children. 
 That's us. WE are the Church. We're weird. We're dangerous.
 And we're indestructable.

 Our clergy have always imagined themselves to be our leaders.
 In fact they are our slaves. Our Best Boys. If they give us
 what we want, we overlook their human foibles. If not, we
 whisper in ears and they disappear. While cruely denying them
 the human intimacy of sex; while subjecting them to bishops 
 who are often stupid, pompous twits without a religious bone 
 in their bodies; we pamper them in return with an easy, soft,
 respectible and comfortable life. Divorced as they are from 
 reality, their advice is often useless. We ignore it and do 
 our best to find our own happy medium in the world. Our vast
 treasury of traditions see us through.

 An interesting new era is dawning for the American Catholic
 Church - one in which the clergy will no longer be prominent.
 The scandals have destroyed their moral authority. Largely
 ignored as it was, no one will bother listening to them any 
 more. Our priesthood - old, decrepit and down to skin-and-
 bones as it was, largely reduced to ceremonial technicians,
 will soon die out. At least in the form it has existed in for
 the last few centuries. Lay Catholics, especially women, will 
 assume a new prominence. The Butts In the Pews, controlling 
 the pursestrings, have already begun exerting themselves, 
 telling the bishops what to do. We, the Little People, will 
 begin shaping the Church in our own image. Stick around. 
 It'll be fun. By the time Cardinal Law gets out of prison
 he won't recognize the place.

			+	+

 Padre Pio was no saint, he was a psychotic. He was mentally
 ill. So said a Vatican inquiry by Cardinal Maccari. And
 anyone who pursues his 'spiritual path' will end up exactly
 the same way - nutso. Fortunately all of his followers,
 including that superstitious old Pollock peasant JP-2, are
 little more than spiritual masturbators content to 'pleasure
 themselves' for momentary kicks. Pio might be dangerous 
 otherwise.

 Most people, including church-people, think religion is a
 simple matter of going to church one day a week. They sing,
 they pray, they listen to a speech, throw their money in
 the basket and then they go home and forget about it all 
 until next week, or next Christmas as is more likely. But 
 a select few are dis-satisified with the above. They want 
 something more. They want Union with God. They want to 
 mind-meld with the Divine Will.

 Achieving union with God is a very difficult, demanding 
 complicated and dangerous business as many mystics have 
 pointed out over the centuries. It involves shedding your 
 individual self, your personal identity, so the Will of 
 God can take over. You have to lose yourself completely 
 in God, cutting yourself off from all attachments - both 
 human and material - that may distract you. This is not 
 a trivial matter nor is it a game. This is playing with 
 fire. This is working with live wires.

 It leaves you in a very vulnerable state, both mentally 
 and physically. Your physical well-being can deteriorate 
 and it is terribly easy to become confused, delusional 
 and lost if you don't know what you're doing. To step 
 completely outside yourself to the point where you lose 
 your identity can be a terrifying experience. Many have 
 gone insane - like Padre Pio. And in their insanity, they 
 come to believe their ghosts and demons are real when they, 
 in fact, are only imaginary phantoms. They believe their 
 visions to be gifts from God when in fact they are 
 diversions from the His grace that lure them away from 
 Him.

 That is why people normally only attempt this sort of thing 
 in monasteries. It is especially there that you can have the 
 sort of spiritual and physical support needed to see you 
 through - spiritual guides you trust enough to obey without
 hesitation and experienced others who can observe and help 
 you. Trying it on your own would be a very bad idea. Even 
 hermits maintain a strong association with a community so 
 they can periodically get feedback and direction - a reality
 check.

 There are very few monasteries nowadays either capable of 
 or even interested in this sort of thing. Even amongst the
 cloistered orders. It's become a lost and nearly extinct 
 art. But a highly intriguing and well-documented one.

 There have been many 'manuals' written within the Catholic
 tradition on seeking this union with God. St. John of the
 Cross, St. Theresa of Avila and Walter Hilton among others.
 They explain step-by-step in detailed fashion what stages 
 a person passes through and what sorts of things they can 
 expect to encounter at each step. Jewish, Buddhist and 
 Islamic mystical traditions have produced remarkably similar 
 manuals. God's House is indeed one of many mansions.

 But don't waste your time with the demented ravings of Pio.
 He belonged in a nuthouse not a rectory. A fine example of
 what NOT to do.

			+	+

 "River" Ron Thew is an unusual Catholic. He's a hermit who
 lives in what recently became Australia's Turon National
 Park near Lithgow in New South Wales. Now 62, his dad took 
 him there when he was a kid to show him where his grandfather 
 panned for gold. It was so beautiful they set up camp and 
 never went back home. Ron's dad died there a few years ago
 but Ron has stayed on. When the park was recently formed, 
 he was worried they might boot him outta there. People ain't 
 supposed to be living in national parks. But instead, the 
 Australian National Park Service did something very unusual 
 by American standards: they made Ron part of the park. He's
 officially written in as part of its cultural heritage and
 is welcome to stay as long as he likes. He's very relieved. 
 The pictures of Mary and Jesus that are the only decorations
 in his hut, won't have to come down after all.

----------------------------------------------------
 The above is copyright material. You want to use it,
 ask. You want to make money off it, gimme some first.
 I'll let you know if it's enough. You want to steal it,
 I'll sic my lawyer Yoshi 'The Proctologist' Rasmussen
 on you baby. He'll teriyaki your sorry butt and turn
 it into Lutefisk.
~--------------------------------------------------
 MAIL:    tofoggymoment@yahoo.com
 ARCHIVE: https://www.angelfire.com/nb/afm
--------------------------------------------------