No, not him...
He's a very nice guy and we agree on many vital
matters.- But, seriously, how can anyone
in this age have full confidence in a pontiff who insists on priestly celibacy
and believes that half of all humankind is disqualified by anatomy from
administering the sacraments?- (Of course,
it's easier for one to believe in such nonsense if one is part
of the qualified half.)- It is one thing
to stand firmly on principle; it is quite another to be immobilized by slavish
adherence to moribund dogma.- A pope should
understand this distinction and act accordingly.
-Let me introduce myself.
Links to Sacred Sites:
Thelonious Monk music for worship
Preaching (and thinking) resources
American Newspeak an e-zine which charts the continuing advance of Orwellianism
Higher and Higher: Moody Blues
The Book of Bob (Dylan)
Pacem
in Terris
Encyclical of John XXIII
Alberta Hunter 1895-1984
Guide to Philosophy on the Net (Peter Suber)
The Pope Page (official)
Reading Recommendations:
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Papal Sin |
St. Augustine |
It all started at Denison where John
Whitt (henceforth to be referred to simply as Whitt) majored in history and
I majored in the avoidance of sleep
deprivation._ Whitt met Gayle, a.k.a. Janet,
whom he eventually married, and I, being antisocial, didn't meet anybody
for quite a while. -One day Bob Westley, a fellow
Denisonian and one of the laziest and smartest people I've ever known, bestowed
a nickname upon Whitt. -The monicker was "the
Pope" and, according to Westley, it was awarded because Whitt was given to
frequent and extended pontification.- This mode
of expression usually went by another name in dorm culture (hence the term,
papal bull).- But, I digress..
Once called into being, I became Whitt's spiritual advisor and (next to the
lovely Gayle) his closest collaborator in life.
-Now he and Gayle have invited me to assist
them in their website project. -I couldn't be
more delighted, though, knowing Whitt as I do, I insisted on complete editorial
control over my own pages.- I do not see eye
to eye with Whitt on everything any more than I do with John Paul II or with
Paul VI who was pretending to be the pontiff when I first asserted my rightful
claim to the role.
To test Whitt's tolerance of my independence, I have decided to reveal something about him. -This is not the real "down and dirty" on Whitt; after all, everybody's entitled to some privacy; I'm not sure I fully comprehend the real dark stuff about Whitt regardless of the intimacy of our relationship; but it's something that he would rather keep secret.- Here it is:
Although Whitt considers himself and likes to be thought of as highly rational and he would probably insist that he is not superstitious, I happen to know that his behavior is constantly influenced by a weird lucky number system he devised as a child; I haven't figured it out yet, but it has something to do with baseball and his pathetic fantasies about being a superstar in that sport.
Speaking of sports, I must mention another of Whitt's little quirks. Whitt is a big spors fan and he has a few favorite teams, but is real passion as a follower of games lies not so much in cheering for his teams to win (like a normal, healthy human being) but rather in rooting for the defeat (nd hoping for the humiliation, if not the utter annihilation ) of various other teams selected mainly for the trait of successfulness. Whitt pursues this passion..., well,... passionately, despite the fact that this approach leads almost inevitably to constant disappointment. Occasionally he enjoys a moment of flukish joy, such as the 1998 victory of France over Brazil in World Cup soccer or the triumph of the 1969 New York Mets, made all the sweeter by unexpectedness and implausibility, but mostly he just wallows in the agony of defeat and nurses his grudges--deep, long-lasting wounds. So he often visits such places on the web as the Yankees Suck site and the Anti Cowboys Web Ring. Whitt is delighted whenever any team from Cleveland wins anything.
Having gotten that out of the way, let us fling ourselves upon the the web with fear and arrogance, as Whitt would say, quoting Kevin Costner as Crash Davis in the baseball flick, Bull Durham.