How DARE they point fingers at cardinals?

I'm taking a break from writing (already!) because I couldn't resist making fun of commenting on this:

VATICAN CITY (AP) — The Vatican spokesman says a group representing church sex abuse victims is acting out of "negative prejudices" when criticizing cardinals. 

The nerve of those abuse victims! I can't imagine why they might have "negative prejudices" about the cardinals who failed to stop priestly sex abuse after they were made aware of it. Honestly, the nerve of some of these "victims".

When will these now-adult victims get their act together? And to bring this up now -- at such a sacred moment in the church's heavenly process! Don't they know the cardinals are doing the work of Christ?! These "victims" must be in the employ of Satan!

Is this a great church, or what? Every day they say something stupid. Sometimes I think they do it just for me.

Writing day

Today, I have a date with a bunch of words. My plan is to slap them around until they self-assemble into a short story. Here's hoping.

In the interim, light blogging.

I'm sick of the new pope

I've had it with this new pope. He's worse than Ratzinger. Oh no, wait! They haven't hired the new guy yet. Never mind.

So far, we've seen only black smoke coming from the Vatican chimney -- three times. There's a lot of silly news about how they created this intensely black smoke but they're just guessing. Only I have the inside scoop.

It seems an argument broke out between a flinty-eyed reformer-cardinal and an iron-willed curia-cardinal. The moment they landed the first punches, flames filled the chapel. The result was a conflagration that nearly burned the Sistine Chapel to the ground. In the end, as both cardinals lay on the floor exhausted, an acrid, black smoke rose from their bodies and exited through the chimneys overhead.

And so it goes in the holy conclave. I thought I'd be able to tell you everything that went on in there. You see, I have a spy who is part of the proceedings. But so far, he's only sent four cryptic words. I'd like to share them with my readers:

"Cardinals farting like trumpets."

That's all I've heard. And you know, I really don't care. Truly, I'm already sick of the new pope. Aren't you? After all, there is no god, so it really doesn't matter. In any case, rest assured. The new pope will be as bad as the last one.

Insurrection in the yard

Longtime readers know that I'm a friend to all animals, especially birds. Well, I've got a goose problem.

The flock is furious with me because I've stopped feeding them. What can I say? I'd like to help them out but when I do, the result is that more and more geese arrive. They know a good thing when they see it. In the end, I had over 200 geese out there. I just can't feed that many of them. The problem is two-fold: it's expensive to come up with all that feed, and if I don't put enough out, there's a huge fight over the food. Given these problems, I stopped feeding them.

They're not pleased. The main goose, Milo -- the finest goose who ever lived -- honks madly at my window each morning. He is so angry with me! And when I go out for a walk, I can sense that they're talking about me, putting me down and saying hateful things. This is hard for a bird lover to deal with.

But I can't feed the world. On the other hand, I can feed peanuts to the crows, jays and squirrels. They're territorial, so their numbers increase only when they give birth. In other words, there isn't a growing group of hangers-on. I'm glad for that, at least.

Still, I wish the geese would stop talking about me. I may have to get an order of protection, in the end. And I feel just terrible because Milo and I are pals. We go way back. Sigh.

More church hypocrisy

I'm tired of writing about it.

Important advice about ovarian cancer

The NYT has a great story this morning about the inadequate treatment given to 2/3 of women who have ovarian cancer. It's frightening.

Here's the short version. If you or anyone you know has ovarian cancer, go to a gynecological oncologist -- not to a general oncologist or gynecologist.

Surgeons who lack expertise in ovarian cancer should refer women to specialists if the women are suspected to have the disease, but often do not, Dr. Goff said. 

Why? Because they're unfamiliar with ovarian cancer and because they want to make more money. Read the story to learn the details. It seems that because women who suffer from ovarian cancer are older and less active (i.e., less likely to be activists than those who have breast cancer), the correct treatment remains largely unknown to both women and gynecologists.

Seriously, read the article. And when you encounter someone who has ovarian cancer, speak up and get them to a gynecological oncologist who handles at least 20 or more ovarian cancer cases a year.

Be still, my heart!

The day has finally come! The slithy toves are all, like, totally brillig. Yes, it's the first day of the conclave! (Shouts issue from crowd.)

VATICAN CITY — Cardinal Angelo Sodano, celebrating the Mass on Tuesday preceding the conclave to elect the next pope, issued an appeal for unity in the Catholic Church, which has been damaged by Vatican corruption and clerical sex abuse scandals. (Snip)

He referred to the “luminous pontificate” of the “beloved and venerated Pontiff Benedict XVI, to whom in this moment we renew our profound gratitude,” drawing long applause from the worshippers. A number of the cardinals, but not all, clapped their hands modestly. 

The game is on. There will be only one vote today and it is unlikely to produce a winner. Drat. But at least we can tune out for the day, and tend to our lives. 

Remember to pray for lavender smoke! (Or should we? The last gay pope wasn't exactly helpful to GLBT folks.) Okay, never mind. Pray for black smoke. Let's hope they never settle on a new pope and the church remains rudderless for centuries. Hooray!