__
                           __ _ / _|_ __ ___
                  _____   / _` | |_| '_ ` _ \   _____
                 |_____| | (_| |  _| | | | | | |_____|
                          \__,_|_| |_| |_| |_|
                          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.
         -------------------------------------------------

                                - 158 -


 Thursday will be the 66th anniversary of the day Marion Zioncheck,
 Congressman from Washington's First District, jumped out the window
 of the Arctic Building downtown to his death. Landed right in front
 of the car his wife was sitting in. He told her he was just dashing
 in for something he forgot. An eccentric New-Deal Democrat who once 
 drove up on the White House lawn in his car and got caught a few 
 times dancing with his wife in DC water fountains, his antics got 
 him thrown in a nut-house back East. He escaped to return to Seattle 
 for re-election. The local papers smeared him openly as a Commie 
 though there was nothing then, or now, to indicate he was. A little
 fed-up with the humorless twits in our Nation's Capital, he wasn't 
 too sure he really wanted to go back there. While he pondered the
 matter, his close personal friend Maggie Magnusson snatched up the
 nomination for Marion's seat. Between his DC misadventures, the
 Harpees amongst our News Nazis and getting stabbed in the back by 
 his buddy, he was in a despondent state of mind at the time.

 * WHITE SHEET SALE AT INFERIOR COURT...
 
 Boy was that embarassing! Ex-Mayor Pauly heads over to the Dark Side of
 Town during the his final historic campaign, for a cheesy photo-op with
 his otherwise forgotten Negro constituents and ends up getting knocked 
 flat on his ass in front of God and everybody. As his Seattle Police
 Department bodyguards stare down dumbly at him in mid-munch on their
 jelly-filled donuts, Hissoner is moaning and crying on the ground in 
 agony. Here he was on the verge of making history by becoming the first
 sitting Mayor in a century to get turfed in the primaries. People got
 no respect for historical figures any more eh.

 A Newark, New Jersey mayor got smacked upside the head at a funeral at
 about the same time this event occurred. Right in front of the dead 
 guy and all. He didn't press charges. Pauly, on the other hand, deeply
 believes in revenge. He didn't just press charges - he stomped all
 over them. No Negroes were going to push HIM around. No siree. Grab 
 that sassy young Black man with the megaphone, Mr. Omari. And get out 
 the rope. We gonna have us a little lynch'n party - King County style.

 Why can't all Black people be as nice as KingCo Exec "Cadillac" Sims
 and ex-Mayor Normy? Pat Robertson would be danged proud to have either
 one of them as a sidekick on his 700 Club. He could rub their kinky,
 smiling heads every week for good luck. Praise Jesus! And they'd be
 pleased as punch if he did.

 KingCo Prosecutor Norm is our White Hand of Vengence around here. He
 got handed the honors. A failed politician and the only man in King
 County to get laughed out of the Supreme Court in that other Washington,
 Norm isn't what you would call 'real sharp'. He screws the pooch a lot.
 And so he did with the first attempt to String Up the sassy young Mr.
 Omari. Somehow a Race Traitor White Man and an Uppity Negro snuck onto
 the jury and popped that dangerous Black man loose. Dang! They had the
 tree all picked out and Nordies threw in a free rope and clean white
 sheets for everybody. Worse, the witnesses already had their promotions
 and raises in appreciation for their help. Aside from our News Nazis
 trashing the Uppity Negro on the jury, there was little vengence to 
 be had. It was a dark day at the Rainer Club. 

 Usually you only get tried on the same charge once. Trying people more
 than once is frowned upon in most legal circles in America and many
 other places. But not King County. They let Norm take as many whacks
 as he likes. He needs all the help he can get.

 He got it right the second time around. They fished his Honorable
 Inferiority, Judge "Bubba" McBroom out of "Detox" especially for the
 job. Bubba's the kind of guy you can count on. Early in his career 
 he was a flunky in the Pierce County Prosecutor's Office when a 
 little birdee whispered to the FBI that Bubba's boss was taking 
 a little rake-off from bailbondsmen in the form of 'campaign 
 donations' in exchange for 'forgetting' to hit them up for the 
 moneys owed on Perps who flew the Coop - forfeited bonds. Once the 
 G-Men arrived for a quiet and unannounced look-see, another birdee
 whispered the news to a local TV reporter. Next thing you know it's 
 all over every TV screen in town. Opps! Bubba's boss was VERY 
 embarassed. In the end, the allegations turned out to be false
 but the damage was done and the mud splattered. In a subsequent 
 slander suit, Bubba was named as one of the two prime canidates 
 for birdee. He didn't deny he was; he just couldn't remember. Call 
 it a Senior Moment. Similar to those that slimey Perps have in
 courtrooms. The reporter got it up the caboose but Bubba's done 
 quite well since then. Where would the world be without ambitious 
 young men?

 Throw in a safe bunch of drunks from the local hillbilly bars and
 drooling Space Cadet retirees from the rest homes, and Bob's Your
 Uncle. Just to reassure the local Black Folks this wasn't the lynch'n
 it appeared to be, Norm told them Omari would only get 3-9 months max.
 He in fact got 21-months. Whatever. They bought it. Sometimes its
 like stealing candy from a baby. Norm was ready to roll. 

 So what if there was nothing at all in the way of objective evidence. 
 No TV-cam crew's tape; no home video; no nut'n. So what if he didn't 
 do it and someone else admitted she's the one who actually smacked 
 ex-Mayor Pauly upside the head. So what if all the witnesses were 
 Paycheck Patriots. So what if the case already got thrown out of court 
 once. Stuff like that's just meaningless details in Inferior Court.
 Think of it as a legal Alice in Wonderland.

 Twenty-one months from now after Mr.Omari picks himself up a good 
 case of TB for staying in the filthy pig-pen known as King County 
 Jail, he'll be a better man for it - a Black Man who knows his Place.
 Or, as seems far more likely, he'll have a real fire in his belly.

 And now that Pauly's got his pound of flesh, hopefully he'll shuffle 
 off to some other city. He gives off a bad odor. And take his stupid
 Pollock Police Chief with him - the Beavis and Butthead of Hooterville
 politics.

 * HONEY BEE...

 Up until this week I had only seen one single honey bee all summer.
 For years I used to keep an 'observation hive' in one of my windows.
 It's a single frame glassed-in one side so you can watch the little
 critters dancing and jiving around. It's way better than watching TV. 
 I asked Hank the Crank, the world's most dangerous gardener, where 
 all the bees disappeared to. As usual he gave me one of his classic 
 "Whatta you a dumbass?" disgusted looks and said there were lots of 
 them around. I guess I just been looking in the wrong places. I did 
 read somewhere that their numbers have been severely diminished by 
 some sort of bacteria rot. 

 While hoofing it through the herb garden at U Dub one evening this
 week I saw a whole bunch of them on the spiny balls of a Globe 
 Thisle. They were 6-banded Italians as mellowed out as a bunch of
 Goombahs relaxing in a summer backyard with a jug of homemade wine. 
 You could practically pick the pollen off their legs without a fight.
 I'll bet the university has a few hives hid somewhere in the bushes.

 * SIOUX VISION QUEST...

 How strange it is. I'm grazing through memepool and there's mention
 of a couple young guys who went homeless for a couple weeks. Memepool
 made it out like they were noble Sioux savages on a vision-quest. They
 were neither Sioux nor on a vision quest. They were just curious about
 homelessness and took the most direct route to discovery - they became
 homeless in Seattle. They invited various Media scum to share in their
 new-found knowledge. And they put a diary up on the Internet. It's 
 still there and worth reading:

                 www.homelessweek.com

 First off, they learned that if you do something like this, everybody
 will hate your guts. We're trying to forget about the homeless, dammit.
 WE DON'T WANT REMINDERS. It's embarassing and upsetting. They got dumped
 on from every direction for their lack of a reasonable excuse for doing
 this. Apparently many people think you need a licence to go homeless
 even temporarily. BoomTown Cafe on Capital Hill, whom they gave generous
 and gushing appreciation to in their homeless diary, even whimped out 
 and demanded to have their name removed from the diary. Who would have
 ever thought they would go Politically Correct!? What next? A BoomTown/
 Starbucks joint venture? 

 KING-5 TV covered them apparently. I threw my TV away 10 years ago so
 I wouldn't know. The Seattle P-I sent over a sniveling journalistic
 Dickhead who only impressed them by his stupidity and utter mediocrity.
 Having plenty of toilet-paper, I have little need for the P-I so I
 wouldn't have known about that either. The Stranger was the only local
 interest that seemed to do a half-assed decent job of coverage. 

 The aftermath is being covered by one of the temporarily-homeless guys
 on: droppingbombsonyourmome.com

 * THE DAO OF THE UNIVERSE...

 E. Sanders up at the Dominion Astrophysical Observatory in Victoria,
 B.C. bagged a supernova this past week on their venerable old Plaskett
 1.82-m reflector - Supernova 2002eg in UGC 11486. It's not really all
 that big a deal. A few of them get discovered every week. But it was
 nice to see a local interest in on the action. The DAO's name is a
 good indication of its age. They haven't called anything 'dominion'
 up there in a very long time. 

 The shiny dome atop Observatory Hill a few miles north of downtown is
 pretty easy to pick out when approaching Vic by those fast-ferries or 
 by air. What was the distant fringe of Victoria in 1918 is now very
 much surrounded by the city. While the observatory's building and the
 independant central concrete pier the telescope is mounted on were all
 built locally, the dome was especially made for DAO in 1916 in Cleveland,
 Ohio. Making rotating dome roofs remains a specialty to this day. Not
 just anyone can do it. I've worked under a couple that were made by
 people who thought they knew how. Oi! Kids screamed in terror and
 adults ran for cover whenever the damn things moved. It sounded like
 the End of the World.

 The old Plaskett that imaged the new supernova was the largest telescope
 of its type in the entire world when DAO opened in 1918. It's big 83-inch
 primary mirror blank was made in France and shipped out literally only 
 a couple days before WW-I began. A test mirror blank that was to follow
 on its heels, didn't make it out. It disappeared in the War causing a few
 significant but surmountable problems later. The big glass blanks were
 then ground and polished by a company in Pittsburg. 
 
 As you may imagine, it was a very time consuming and tedious process 
 to precisely grind a chunk of glass that big back then - polish, test,
 polish, test, polish, test, etc. Mistakes were made and it ended up
 taking three attempts before they got it right. They ground a lot of
 glass off those blanks (primary + 2 secondaries). But unlike the goofs
 who made the Hubble Space Telescope's mirror, back then the job wasn't
 considered done until it was done right. When the three mirrors were 
 finished, the system they formed had an accuracy of one arc-second. 
 Excellent. They shipped them to Victoria by rail in 1918.

 It took two weeks to haul the dome and its associated stuff up that
 hill. It took another two days to carefully haul the mirrors up there.
 They had to tip the big one on its edge and roll it in the door. Bet
 they were sweating bullets eh. One little slip up and four years of
 irreplaceable work goes down the toilet. That old primary was replaced 
 in 1974. Big pieces of glass tend to expand/contract a lot with changes
 in temperature and deform over time. The tube and mounting is about 
 all that's left of the original system. Everything else has been
 upgraded.

 "First Light" was on May 6th 1918 when they shot the spectrum of a 
 star. The world's biggest telescope had opened for business in little
 Victoria. She isn't the biggest any more and the Canada-France-Hawaii
 facility in the crowd atop Mauna Kea in Hawaii is Canada's primary
 facility now. But she's still a going concern and looks pretty dang 
 K00L sitting up there. Like something out of an old sci-fi flick.
 They have tours of course.

 Dominion Astrophysical Observatory - Victoria

 * ABBOTSFORD AIR SHOW...

 If you think those flying Squids in their screaming machines are neato,
 give the Real Thing a try. The Abbotsford (BC) Airshow is this coming 
 weekend. Sort of wedged between Vancouver and the border. This year's
 events include:
	Canadian Forces "Snowbirds" 
	USAF "Thunderbirds"
	CF-18 "Hornet" Demo
	A-10 "Thunderbolt" Demo
	F-15 "Eagle" Demo
        F-117 "Nighthawk" Demo
	B-2 "Spirit" Demo
	Heritage Flight (F-15/A-10/P-51)
	Warbird Fly-By (Mustang/Corsair/Sea Fury/Harvard)
	Ground Battle Simulation by Canadian Forces
        Daredevils Gene Soucy & Teresa Stokes 		    
        Bud Granley in his Yak-55
                    etc.
 
 They'll have over 30 aircraft on static display that you can get up close
 to. They range from modern fighter aircraft like the F-14, F-15, F-16 
 and CF-18s to big bruisers like the KC-135 Stratotanker, C-17 Globemaster 
 CC-130 Hercules and C-141 Starlifter to patrol aircraft like P-5 Orions
 and CP-140 Auroras. Plus a few eggbeaters too. They think a lot bigger 
 up there than Hooterville does. They're better at it and they've been at
 it longer. 

 As much as I think the military sucks and as low an opinion as I have of
 the retards who pass for pilots these days, I just can't resist a hot
 machine. And they don't come much hotter than these MoFos. Some year
 maybe the Blue Angels will work up the balls to go nose to nose with the
 T-Birds up on the borderline. Winner gets to take the Snow Birds out on 
 a date. I'd pay to see a showdown like that.

 Abbotsford International Airshow
........................................................................

 "There are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns -
  that is to say, there are things that we now know that we don't know
  but there are also unknown unknowns. There are things we do not know
  we don't know."

                           Donny Rumsfeld
                            U.S. SecDef
                     groping for The Big Picture

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

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

 Just for the sake of perversity, assume Al Qaida really is out to nail
 our ass. Assume that Osama is truely leading a Holy Jihad against the
 Great Satan America. I know it's a stretch, but bear with me.

 Okay. Your suicide teams have successfully accomplished what no one
 in their right mind would have thought possible - they totally demolished
 both towers of the World Trade Center in New York City merely by hitting
 each with a little jet airplane. Something like 50,000 people whose only
 crime was that they showed up for work on time, get buried in the rubble.
 A year ago the mere notion would have sent engineers, architects and
 everyone else into spasms of disbelief. An impossible, preposterous and
 utterly insane notion if ever there was one. Even if the damn aircraft
 were loaded with bombs...both towers!?...totally leveled and demolished!?
 Nah! No way Jose! This year they're falling all over each other trying 
 to come up with some sort of semi-rational explanation for why it
 actually did occur. And that Pentagon hit that featured a large passenger
 jet roaring through the middle of D.C. a couple feet off the ground
 going completely un-noticed and unrecorded looks weirder every day. Even
 in New York City they'd notice something like that.

 Holy Jihad - First Blood. 

 With an enormous success like that under your belt, a person would tend
 to naturally assume they are on some sort of unbelieveable, if not
 miraculous, roll. How do you top that? What do you do next?

 Before Osama could even think of rashly launching into another attack,
 President Yellowbelly and his crew of Chicken Hawks handed him his
 strategy on a platter: don't do anything - leave the job to trained
 professionals. Sitting there in his Jihad Cave watching CNN, Osama 
 witnessed a most extraordinary series of events. America began to 
 commit hari-kari. One attack is all it takes. You don't have to do 
 anything else to us, we'll finish the job ourselves. And we'll do 
 it for free.

 First off, Yeller shut down our entire airspace for weeks. A move
 that cost billions and billons in lost revenues which the taxpayer 
 would have to make up for of course. There was no attack Osama could
 have launched that would have been even vaguely as effective or as
 expensive. Yet, he didn't even have to lift a finger or spend a dime.

 Second, Yeller announced a Jihad of his own against Afghanistan. 
 Huh? None of the attackers were from Afghanistan. Osama isn't from 
 Afghanistan. Nobody's from Afghanistan. A poverty-ridden dump most
 of whose population was verging on starvation as it was, it was no
 threat to anyone on earth aside from itself. Again even more billions 
 and billions and billons down the toilet. Sucked right out of an
 already shaky Social Security fund terminally crippling it. High
 Tech Billion Dollar Stealth fighter aircraft were launched in wave 
 after wave to blow up - what? - empty mountainous goat pastures
 and the caves we paid Osama Billions of Bucks to build. Lacking 
 anything like an air-force or navy, and with an army that was armed 
 with nothing but hand-guns, there wasn't anything for our military 
 to blow up. 

 Afterwards, the head of the Taliban, Mullah Umar, is still there,
 still fighting and still a going concern. Osama is still alive and
 doing well. Reports of his death from the Juice Heads at the Dept.
 of Defense being little more than wishful-thinking. Again, if you're
 Osama, how in the hell you gonna top that? It would take years and
 years of concerted effort to inflict that kind of economic damage
 on America and here we did it all on our own. He didn't even have 
 to lift a finger or spend a dime. And now, since he's officially
 dead, he don't even have to hide any more. Off the hook. Free as a
 little birdee.
 
 Third, with considerable help from the U.S. Congress, the very legal
 lifeblood of our Great Nation - the Constitution & Bill of Rights -
 were shackled and rendered impotent. Thousands of American citizens
 were rounded up and hauled off to concentration camps without charge
 or reason. Short of blowing up the Capital Rotunda while Congress was
 in session, it's hard to imagine a more powerful symbolic blow against
 this country. Yet it was accomplished without Osama lifting a finger
 or spending a dime. We did it all ourselves.

 Fourth, swaggering arrogantly and mindless around the World Stage to
 prove how macho we are, America is now amongst the most despised of
 nations. Everybody cried with us on 9/11. Today - they hate our guts.
 We're unsafe overseas. We're unsafe at home. Hell, we can't even stand
 ourselves any more. What on earth could Osama have done to accomplish
 anything even vaguely as effective as that? Not a damn thing. And he
 didn't have to lift a finger or spend a dime to pull it off. Wow!

 Now for the Grande Finale...Iraq.

 Saddam's not a threat to anyone. We've had him in a straight-jacket 
 for years. We know that. The U.N. knows that. EVERYBODY knows that. 
 There is no compelling reason to whack him. There's plenty far, far
 worse than him around. No shortage of canidates. All thorough
 despisers of democracy and all with hands just a-drip'n with other 
 people's blood. But none of them have got the kind of oil Saddam has.

 This time we won't be heading up an international effort. Aside from 
 our Limmy Lap Dog Blair, nobody wants anything to do with it. Germany
 and France got too many troubles enough of their own right now to get
 mixed up in Yellowbelly's stupid idea. Egypt, Jordan, the Saudis all 
 are taking a rain-check. Even Kuwait, the beneficiary of Desert Storm, 
 say leave them out of it. This time the American tax-payer, already on
 the ropes from the ever deeping recession, will be picking up the entire
 tab.  Really this thing is far too complicated and frought with ominous
 danger for a Monkey Boy like Yeller to be messing with. A screw-up 
 artist like him ain't even vaguely bright enough to handle this action.
 But he smells oil and the stuff has the same effect on him that Crack
 used to have back in his Frat House days. It gives him delusions of 
 grandeur and and exaggerated fantasies of sexual prowess. Makes him 
 think he's got the biggest Dick in town. 

 Osama's got to be sitting there in his Jihad Cave tonight chuckling 
 to himself. This Jihad business is a helluva lot easier and cheaper 
 than anybody imagined. And America is an even more of Dumb Blonde 
 than he or any of his pals would have believed. The way things are 
 going at the moment, we should completely self-destruct inside another 
 year or two. Mission accomplished. Sayonara Great Satan. 

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

 i thank you God for most this amazing
 day: for the leeping greenly spirits of trees
 and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
 which is natural which is inifinite which is yes

 (i who have died am alive again today,
 and this is the sun's birthday; this is the birth
 day of life and love and wings: and of the gay
 great happening illimitably earth)
 
 how should tasting touching hearing seeing
 breathing any - lifted from the no
 of all nothing - human merely being
 doubt unimaginably You?

 (now the ears of my ears awake and
 now the eyes of my eyes are opened)

            e.e. cummings
.............................................................................

                         -  MONDO VATICANO -

 The drooling old Pollock's Death March 2002 Tour of the Americas has
 been a real bust. In Toronto, less than half-an-hour flight time from 
 something like 60 million US/Canadian Catholics, he failed to draw
 anything close to a single Mega crowd as he routinely does in Europe. 
 He did much, much better on previous trips. His popularity is way down
 now. The crowds in Canada most especially were very disappointing. World
 Youth Day in Toronto, his reason for coming, actually lost money after 
 failing to come up with enough paid attendees. 

 South America was a real concern. The Church is severely bleeding from 
 the Proty Evangelicals who are successfully cutting ever deeper and
 deeper into her numbers there. Despite often hysterical efforts to pump
 up the crowd numbers, they were disappointingly ordinary both in Guatemala 
 and Mexico. In Mexico City - the largest city in the world - virtually
 all of whose population of many millions are at least nominally Catholic, 
 he still failed to attract a Mega crowd. Less than 10,000 bothered to
 greet him when he arrived. That's real bad news. He left a trail of
 highly forgetable new saints in his wake. In fact, as has always been 
 the case with this Pope all along, no one can remember a single thing 
 he said. He's all smoke and mirrors.

 Juan Diego in Mexico may come back to haunt the Church. Guadeloupe's 
 followers unquestionably venerate her above even Christ. She is well on
 her way to becoming a religious institution in her own right much as
 Voodoun in Haiti, another Catholic cult, did long ago. Canonizing the
 imaginary and non-existent Juan Diego was a desperate act of catch-up.
 Guadeloupe's followers aren't the kind of people to start theological
 arguments with Cardinal "Ratso" Ratzinger. They haven't got a theology.
 And since Roma needs them far more than they need Roma, it's unlikely 
 Ratso would be foolish enough to try to enforce Roman orthodoxy on 
 them. They're calling the shots, not him. All he can do is pray they 
 stay within the Church. A futile hope.

 Nobody won the Papal Death Pool this time around. Most of the time he
 looked like somebody forgot to change his Depends. He even needed some
 bruiser to hold him up by the shoulders so he could pretend to stand.
 He'll be pushing up daisies soon. Question is: will there be a Church
 left by the time he finally does croak? 

				+	+
 
 I'm having a helluva time trying to find an honest Catholic blog site.
 All the conservative, ultra-orthodox have resorted to the classic
 Catholic school tradition: they formed a clique of their own. They've
 clumped themselves into a group called St. Blogspot and they won't let
 anyone else in. Worse, lacking anything original to say, they feed off 
 of one anther to puff up their meager listings. The chatter endless
 amongst themselves damning Gary Willis and Voice of the Faithful while
 excommunicating vast hordes of their fellow Catholics who have failed 
 to embrace to their wacky interpretation of church matters. Yawn! They
 are most definitely a small minority of Catholics. 

 The majority are silent. Silent and very angry at the moment. From coast 
 to coast, well-heeled Catholics with a lot of Dough to throw around are 
 leading new diocesan campaigns to economically force an open-books policy
 upon their bishops. You won't find even a hint of this on St. Blogspot as 
 they float off into their own little pretend universe. Talk about
 clueless and irrelevant Airheads eh.

 I just don't get it. This is an historic moment. If it didn't serve 
 God's mysterious Will in some way, it would not be happening. This is 
 no time to close your eyes and pretend it isn't happening. This is 
 a time to open them and learn and wonder.
 
 Nobody wants to admit the obvious: our clergy are almost all Gay now.
 The Pink Peril has conquered the Church. Queers are the only guys who
 want to be priests nowadays. How else to explain that virtually all the
 sexual abuse episodes have involved homosexual acts?  Do we assume that
 when you put a Roman Collar on a Gay guy that he goes crazy and starts 
 committing perverted acts against children? Secular Gays don't go crazy
 like that. Or do we assume the much more likely possibility that since
 almost all of our priests and bishops are Gay that most all the abusers
 are, ergo, also Gay? There aren't many heterosexual abuses simply because 
 there aren't many Straight-oriented priests and bishops left. 

 In any given population (teachers, lawyers, doctors, etc.) the fraction
 of people who are unable to control their sexual urges, is quite small.
 It is a very consistent percentage. So it is for our priests as well.
 While the number of priests defrocked for sexual abuse has been high
 lately, it's a tiny fraction of all priests. And it's only because the
 bishops did little or nothing to deal with the problem until this year.
 You could probably work up a reasonably educated statistical guess at 
 the actual number of present Gay priests just from the percentage of 
 'bad apples'. But don't wait for Fr. Greeley to grab that ring. He's
 too busy Gay Bashing to bother. Maybe it's a cover for his campy/vampy
 Harlequinesque steamy novels eh. They seem very Gay to me!

 The bishops are usually excused by their institutional loyalty. My 
 guess is many of them also felt an emotional bond with a fellow Gay 
 in trouble. Three Gay bishops have been uncovered and turfed so far.
 Betraying their poor priestly schmucks to the Homophobic local Curia 
 butt-kissers was just too cruel to bear. So they hid them as best
 they could. A strategy the Vatican rather cluelessly, accomodated 
 in their usual Scilian manner. The Gay bishops ain't gonna talk 
 about it if they did feel that way. The Vatican's Curia Paisanos 
 would reward that sort of honesty with a quick boot out the door 
 soon as the bishop admitted to being Queer. 

 The problem is at the top of the pyrimid - the Old Farts from back 
 in the Macho days of a Straight priesthood. Especially those old
 Goomba peasants in Roma. They hold all the most powerful positions 
 now and it is they who are directing the present obscene campaign 
 of Gay Bashing. Obviously they are not promoting bishops because of 
 their spiritual excellance nor even their administrative abilities. 
 The level of mediocrity and incompetence in both areas is painfully 
 obvious. They are getting promoted, at least in part, because they 
 are willing to put the screws to their Queers. The Macho Boyz are 
 trying to hang onto to their dwindling power and keep a lid on the 
 Pink Peril. Nonetheless, a few Twinkies have snuck in there anyways. 
 They're hard to spot in a crowd made up of guys wearing black 
 dresses eh.
 
 We're still a decade or so away from the Gay-oriented priests and 
 bishops sneaking that far up the ladder in numbers. But there's 
 strong evidence of a small but influencial Gay caucus in the Curia
 right now. Like that Curia Queen who defied JP-2's Zero Tolerance
 policy by insisting that Australian bishop had to take back his 
 Queer priest after the guy managed to slime his way out of child 
 molestation charges. The Church has likely always been a haven for 
 Gays in a hostile world. It's an easy and respectable life. There's 
 zero expectation for a priest to date or get married or have kids. 
 And as we have learned this year, your average bishop would sooner 
 die than admit to an embarassment, error or a mistake. The perfect 
 set-up. They got all the bases covered. Any Vatican fantasies about 
 getting rid of them are pure smoke. Ain't gonna happen. They're Queer.
 They're here. Get used to it.
 
 I've got no problem with Gay priests. They are no more intrisically
 perverse than any heterosexually oriented priest. I don't doubt for 
 a second that Gay priests are every bit as good for their vow of
 celibacy as Straight priests are. And their spiritual integrity is 
 every bit as solid. It is spiritual integrity that makes a good priest
 'good', not sexual orientation or skin color or ethnic background. There
 is no reliable test for sexual orientation anyways. Heaven only knows
 what the Apostolic Visitation group making the rounds of the seminaries
 are going by. The proof is in the pudding, so to speak. And there are 
 few things in this world as ambiguous as human sexuality to begin with. 
 Guys in prisons and the military are notorious for shuffling back and
 forth between homo- and heterosexuality to match their circumstances.
 Ditto for women. While we've turned sexuality from a taboo into a
 titillating form of entertainment, we still don't talk about it with 
 any more honesty and frankness than we used to. Ignorance is still 
 the prevailing norm.

 I would guess the conversion from a Straight-oriented priesthood to 
 a Gay one occurred in the late 60's. That's been the common 'starting
 window' for many of the pervert priests. With many thousands of priests
 bugging out - many to get married - and the flood of vocations during
 the 50's and 60's suddenly reduced to a trickle, both dioceses and
 religious orders were in dire straits. They were forced to drop the
 traditional paranoia about Gay canidates for the priesthood and adopt 
 a "Won't ask, don't tell" policy. I think they did this deliberately. 
 They didn't want to, but it was literally a matter of survival. Much
 to their embarassment, they discovered they needed Gays. The numbers
 were far smaller. The priest shortage remained. But they avoided total
 meltdown. Given a turn-around, I'm sure they intended all along to
 turf their Tootsies at the first opportunity. Just their way of 
 showing their appreciation.

 This Gayification of the priesthood and episcopalate would also 
 explain the obvious effeminization of our liturgy in recent years.
 Set ceremonial has given way to elaborate 'stage shows' complete
 with banner wavers, dancing girls and colorful sets. Set ritual has
 given way to off-the-cuff extemporaneousness priestly entertaining. 
 The sonorous tones of Latin, evoking Roman Legions and mighty Caesars,
 has given way to delicate and dainty, prim and proper ecclesiastical
 English. Nothing personifies it more than a balding, effete old 
 deacon in a frilly, lacy, white surplice chanting merrily in falsetto. 
 He looks Gay and sounds Gay. Us hitch'n and sniff'n He-Men need a 
 liturgy a bit more in tune with our style: straight up, no chaser. 
 There should be room for both but I ain't holding my breath.

				+	+

 I was Googling around the Matrix this week when I stumbled across my 
 old order whose seminary I went to. It was a very small order. I tried
 finding them once with little success. They're just hanging on by their 
 fingernails. Actually what I stumbled across was two names: a vaguely
 familiar one and a very familiar one. 

 The vaguely familiar name was a fellow seminarian. He was a tall, 
 lanky, hook-nosed hillbilly from the South. He was a couple years 
 ahead of me, and despite the small size of the place, that put him 
 in a different set of classes. I didn't know him well but I remembered
 his face. He was a nice guy. One of that class of southerners who are
 born with a gentlemanly, noble demenor and disposition. He had to dodge
 over to the Maryknolls for a while, but he made it - got ordained.
 Apparently one of the very few who did. I didn't see any other familiar
 names. After a missionary stint in New Guinea, he's now in the Dakotas
 working with the Siouix. They'll like his nose. The county the Pineridge
 Reservation is in, has an annual average income about equal with the 
 city of Calcutta in India where Mother Theresa started out. The worst
 poverty hole in the whole country. That such an obscenity exists here 
 is one of America's deepest, dirtiest secrets.
 
 The very familiar name was my old German and Latin instructor - Fr. Hank.
 He died recently. Back then he looked a lot like a young Tommy Lee Jones.
 Except he always had a smile on his face and he had a lot of facial acne
 scars. He seemed to be perpetually, continuously amused by the world. He
 wasn't a great teacher or anything but he was a nice, simple guy ready
 to laugh at the drop of a pin. Pretty decent ballplayer too on the
 priests in-house team that played some of the other seminaries nearby.
 I ran into Fr. Hank only a couple years after he got ordained. He must
 have been in his late 20's. He was a heavy smoker. Didn't make it much
 beyond 60.

 The seminary is long gone. The county somehow got it as an administrative
 building in the early 70's. I dropped by there a couple years after the
 county took it over. They were holding county council meetings in the
 chapel. Beautifully and very ornately painted art-deco style with much
 gold-leaf, they didn't have the heart to paint over the religious
 symbolism. The rest of the property was pretty much intact just as
 it had been a couple decades earlier. Except the ravine where ancient
 Fr. Ernst whispered to his God. That was all overgrown and uncared for. 
 I stood in the doorway we all stood in back then as the Cuban Missle
 Crisis unfolded. Classes were cancelled since they weren't sure if 
 there would even be a world left by that afternoon. Since we were 
 already 'home', we just hung around listening to a nearby radio, more 
 or less convinced that Armageedon was on our doorstep. We were allowed 
 a rare call home to say our goodbyes. It was the only time our Rector
 allowed such a thing. He thought we were all Goners too.

----------------------------------------------------
 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.
~--------------------------------------------------
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