The Pope, Benedict XVI, is here in Sydney – deepset creepy eyes, whiter than white robes, Popemobile an’ all.
Every Roman Catholic on the planet appears to have descended on us, too. We’re positively awash in monks, nuns, ‘Youth Group Leaders’ and pimpled persons with garishly coloured WYD08 backpacks.
I have the following 4 rants relating to the presence of il Papa:
1. If God is so a) good and b) all-powerful, why does he make all Christians so damned ugly and uncool? Yes, all of them… unless its a cunningly simple contraceptive plan, in which case, nice one God. Don’t let ’em breed.
2. Lots of my fellow Sydney-siders are grumbling about the cost of this Catholic extravaganza. Me, I’m fine with it. Afterall, New South Wales spends rather a lot on other minority interest groups, funding numerous arts programs and various sporting events. In fact, let’s hope we soon have Islamic Youth Day and Jewish Youth Day – we might get some decent music at the concerts. Christians and guitars… *shudder*
3. We all know this is just one big, cynical match-making event, right? I mean, His Holiness has arranged for every Roman Catholic of child-bearing/sperm-producing age to be here for a week of festivities. Does anyone else smell a diabolical plot to increase flagging attendance at Mass by encouraging a mass-spawning in 9 months time, thus providing instant bums on seats for another generation and thereby Saving the World from Heretics and Heathens?
4. Why are Christians so unrelentingly cheerful? Good grief, if one more of them wishes me a “Happy Eternity” I swear I’ll poke them in the eye with a sharp stick. Can’t they read my t-shirt? It has a picture of praying hands on the front, with the words ‘Stop Talking To Yourself’ underneath. Ohmigod, I’m so funny, I crack myself up. *sounds of whittling in background*