Noonan does the Pope..okay..not really…but if he were a fireman, all bets would be off
Now I am what is generally called a “lapsed Catholic”, which is a pleasant way of saying, when company is around, that my faith is deader than Bob Dole’s dick. I don’t harbor any malice towards the Catholic Church, I just tend to ignore it as much as I can, regardless of the headlines and the fact that those lunatics at Opus Dei are infiltrating the government. Because of that, it is hard for me to say much about Peggy’s column this week (not that that will stop me…but I’ll be brief).
Her column reminds me of what I left behind in the church as well as why I don’t miss it. I never was much into the cult of personality that surrounds the Pope du jour, all of whom have struck me a sort of uber-priests no better than the local monsignor. I guess Catholic school failed me in that way, among oh so many others. So when I read something by someone as Pope-smacked as Noonan, I am at as much at a loss to understand it as I am to understand people who want to learn to speak Klingon. It’s easy to dismiss the obsessed particularly if it’s not your cup of obsession, but you can’t deny their existence or their right to be obsessed. If they harm no one, let them be (which is about as close to being Libertarian as I will ever get…and if you’re a Libertarian, don’t email me…you’re the Amway of political parties). For some, like Peggy, religion can be a good thing. But for the Fred Phelps, Osama bin Ladens, Antonin Scalias, and Judge Roy Moores it can become a misused bludgeon of power.
So with that, I think that we should leave Peggy Noonan with what little peace she has in the Pope, the Birth, the Resurrection, the rosary (in whatever form), and God. She’s a believer, and that’s all right with me. It seems like Ritalin for her soul.
But if she starts up on Elian’s god-sent dolphins again, her ass is mine…