No One Expected the German Inquisition
I have no more reason to talk about the new pope really than I did to talk about the previous one (they can always make more, no matter what happens), despite the fact that Isaac was convinced that this particular Bavarian homophobe would never be elected. (Sound familiar to any other elections we've been through recently? I wonder whether Diebold supplied any equipment to the College of Cardinals?)
Anyway, amidst all the fuss as everyone rushes in with an opinion, my spirits were unexpectedly buoyed to read this supportive statement by Shakespeare's Sister:
Da New Pope (as Ezra would say) doesn’t like da faggots. As anyone who’s spent more than five seconds hanging around this joint knows, here at Shakespeare’s Sister, we likes da faggots, and so we don’t likes da new pope.
What a nice thing to say, and written down with a period at the end without any "but" or other wimpy prevarication. She goes on to remind us that "Joey the Rat" (Isaac's pet name for him) was no subtle homo-hater. Rather, he penned all the worst, anti-gay rhetoric that was issued under the late pope's name encyclically.
He does a good job of blaming the victims in this twisted variant on the she-wanted-it dismissal levied so frequently against women who have been raped:
But the proper reaction to crimes committed against homosexual persons should not be to claim that the homosexual condition is not disordered. When such a claim is made and when homosexual activity is consequently condoned, or when civil legislation is introduced to protect behavior to which no one has any conceivable right, neither the Church nor society at large should be surprised when other distorted notions and practices gain ground, and irrational and violent reactions increase.
Shakespeare's Sister, in a potent antidote, concludes by saying:
I reject this pope, I reject his church, and I reject its teachings. I reject the notion that people I love are evil for being gay, or that any expression of love between two consenting adults is somehow sinful. There’s nothing sinful about love, and there isn’t a dime’s worth of difference between the way I love Mr. Shakes, and the way Pam loves Kate, and Mr. Furious loves Mr. Curious; I reject all claims to the contrary. And if that consigns my eternal soul to the fires of hell, then off I go, tra la la. I never fucking liked harps, anyway.
My heart soars.
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I welcome comments -- even dissent -- but I will delete without notice irrelevant, rude, psychotic, or incomprehensible comments, particularly those that I deem homophobic, unless they are amusing. The same goes for commercial comments and trackbacks. Sorry, but it's my blog and my decisions are final.
on Tuesday, 19 April 2005 at 22.30
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Thank you muchly for the link and the kind words. :)
(And thank you for leaving a trackback; I'm pleased to have found your blog!)