spotted tongues

2.28.13

A great story for the media as Benedict’s helicopter leaves and the bells ring in St. Peter’s square, oh Peter must be thrilled.  The day the infallible became fallible.  Prayer, benediction and writing.  That’s about all the strength he can muster.  Vatican television leaves the British speechless because it’s so historical.   

“…once you tweet you can never go back.  I think he’ll think tweet.”  He better not tweet.  What would Jesus do?  That’s such a ludicrous question now.  Oh, he’s crossing the coliseum.  The Bishop of Rome, conquered heathen for two millennia.  The Moors went right around that square, eh?

The Vatican decided he ought to leave in broad blue daylight for the excitement?  Come on, how can I keep watching this?  It is a sad day.  It’s not exciting, where’s the bloody remote?  No batteries. 

The last time I watched a helicopter fly away a defeated man was Nixon.  A big storm knocked the Chinese Willow off its moors in the backyard right outside the sliding doors on that day. 

Does it matter if the BBC’s hosts are gay?  They sound like this is a soirée and they’ll go home and feel good about being there.  Where were you, oh really. I’m not getting off the cross.  You saw more than anyone could bear. De-mystifying the papacy, this is a legacy. 

“Thank you for your love and support”

He must feel terrible. 

“Put Christ at center of your lives”

Maybe he is infallible but he doesn’t know it.  Maybe he is infallible and…he speaks from Gandolfo.  I’m no longer a pontiff.  The last trip on earth begins.  Working for the common good by resigning.  Thank you very much.  May God Bless you and thank you everyone.  Sure, the nuns are crying.  Drinking a beer with a sore throat in room five and what time is it.  It’s time to sleep. 

A time of precedence. The bells toll only for a papal death.  The death bells.  Wow.  I don’t know about that.  Crisis is a relative thing.  There is a spirit of the conclave and a new pope will be elected.  Ready for an African pope?  A female?  No. 

It’s not of God, it’s not going to happen.  Well, now.  They’re destroying the ring he wore?  

3.1.13

Cold days are moving away, no socks needed at six in the morning.  The sun rises at six 38, did the two women in room one think an exact time is a bit eccentric?  Yesterday’s walk down found cramps in the groin, it really is easier to walk in the cold.  But no complaints.  Laxman came down and we had lunch at the Boomerang where they put butter in the hash brown potatoes.  How much are one of these fancy falutin coffee machines? Who would buy a double expresso for three bucks up here?

Room five is very nice four years after it was built.  Clean, quiet, the toilet works, the bed sheets, the pillow cases, would you pay fifty bucks for this room?  If you’re rich, it’s nothing.  Stirring a whole local chicken for a friendly group of locals I see out the window Laxmi.  She lost her son-in-law and now she returns to her home.  No one is more sympathetic than one she’ll never know. 

Heading down I get blustery.  Upon this rock I will build my church.  Raging against God in a kind a gentle manner.  Could we have a day of rage against God in a kind and gentle manner? No one wants to openly get mad at God because who are we to speak against His counsel?  How much worse can it get?  Cannibal Porn coming into your living room.  Sometimes I am ashamed at the silence.  All we do is run around putting out your fires.  You’re responsible for all of this and it isn’t getting better.  O, we have failed? 

Hey BBC nothing is exciting about the somberness, the death peals, nothing is exciting about the weeping.  How would mother have taken the German resigning, a day to sit in a church surrounded by what inspires us in your name.  Oh be silent no more, God.  Deny no longer your promises.

“I’m glad the world didn’t end.  I got work to do.”  Work for others, I presume?  How many need you to be there today?  Suraksha gets dressed on the half day, caramel popcorn waits for her return and maybe a new toothbrush and toothpicks. 

The pot of yellow orchids with red spotted tongues sits nicely on the porch.  Two hundred rupees, what a deal and if only I could carry up more on the back of a motorcycle with a leaking rear tire.  Orchids.  Thirty bucks in Southfield if you can find them.  Beem says there are 240 varieties in Nepal.   

Don’t you get tired sometimes always being angry at God?  Dude, it’s not only me.  Too much empathy this is what is left after going crazy.  And I am certainly never angry with God when I spend time with people who make me laugh and forget our daily horrors.  Why allow the suffering to continue if I am always attributing it to you? I’ll just have to forget you until I’m in the mountains again with meadows of 240 varieties of Sanu Curay.