I'm a take care BIZNESS, ah-ite?!?
DEAR READER: WITHOUT REQUESTING IT, THE FOLLOWING CONFIDENTIAL INTERNAL VATICAN MEMO WAS DELIVERED TO THE EDITORIAL OFFICES OF KIELBASABLOG RECENTLY BY AN ANONYMOUS SOURCE. THE DOCUMENT ARRIVED HIDDEN UNDER A LARGE SAUSAGE AND MUSHROOM PIZZA WITH AN ATTACHED NOTE, HANDWRITTEN WITH PIZZA SAUCE, THAT SAID SIMPLY, “ENJOY!”. A TEAM OF KIELBASABLOG ANALYSTS IS CURRENTLY WORKING TO VERIFY THE AUTHENTICITY OF THE DOCUMENT. THE PIZZA WAS EATEN AND DETERMINED TO BE LEGITIMATE, ALTHOUGH ONE SENIOR STAFFER LATER COMPLAINED OF MILD HEARTBURN. REGRETTABLY, THE VALUE OF THAT PIZZA AS EVIDENCE IS NOW CONSIDERED DUBIOUS.
ALTHOUGH KIELBASABLOG’S OFFICIAL ESTABLISHED EDITORIAL POLICY IS TO NEVER PUBLISH UNVERIFIED DOCUMENTS FROM ANONYMOUS PIZZA DELIVERY SOURCES, THE EXTRAORDINARY NATURE OF THE CONTENTS OF THIS DOCUMENT, BELIEVED TO HAVE BEEN AUTHORED BY POPE BENEDICT XVI HIMSELF, MADE IT IN OUR OPINION, TOO COMPELLING TO NOT RELEASE, EVEN IF IT ALL LATER DOES TURN OUT TO BE TOTAL BUNCH OF HOOEY. READERS ARE THEREFORE URGED TO TEMPER THEIR REACTIONS AND EXERCISE RESTRAINT AS THEY READ THE EXTRAORDINARY AND SOMETIMES DISTURBING WORDS PRINTED IN THE DOCUMENT BELOW.
THANK YOU,
--THE KIELBASABLOG EDITORIAL STAFF
The following is a transcript of the unverified Papal memorandum delivered to the offices of the Rome Kielbasablog Bureau, September 8, 2012:
Enzo: Here’s a rough of that memo I’ve been working on. I need you to tighten and polish. (That’s polish, not Polish.) It may need to be softened a little too.
I know this is outside your usual responsibilities (.....by the way, the hedges around the fountain need trimming) but God doesn’t care, and if you still want a decent afterlife you’ll take care of it, pronto. And I don’t really have time to walk you through any of this. I’ve got enough problems trying to figure out how to send mail using this goddamn “tablet” thing.
Let me know when it’s done.
-PB16
FROM: Pope Benedict XVI
TO: The Faithful.
RE: Rumors
Dear Flock:
For openers, right off the bat, I just want to tell everybody out there who is pious enough to listen, ...relax, bitches. This is not an inquisition. This is not a Papal Decree. This is not some “Megamind-Message from God” sort of thing that is going to change your life and make you sell off your position on Facebook. Which, by the way, I have been taking a freakin bath on. (...so much for “Papal Infallibility”.) No, the communique you are presently reading is just a friendly note reaching out to you, my crew, about some of the things that are happening in my life these days, and how they are affecting you, the Holy See men (...“SE-men”, ...get it? HA!) ...And affecting also, of course, you gals too, who are all doing your best to follow the rules so that you can get into Heaven, and not spend the rest of eternity roasting, like a shit pagan peanut, in Hell.
That being said, lets get down to business. I need your help.
By now, many of you have probably heard some of the irresponsible stories floating around the palazzo lately about “scandals” and “corruption” and “secret nocturnal meetings”, all of which are supposedly occurring here at the headquarters of yours truly, Da-Pope. You may have also heard talk about “arrogance” and “poisoned atmospheres” and “paranoia” and problems with “morale”. Well I’m here to tell you, you little sheep shits, that it’s all lies. There are NO problems here. And as a Catholic (the BIGGEST, I remind you...and, ACHTUNG!......a GERMAN!) I want to also tell you...I am fucking disgusted.
Disgusted with what? Well for one thing, the quality of the help here. “Here” being what my extended family down in Paraguay refers to as, ...”El Rancho Popo” or as you know it, The Vatican.
The help here is TERRIBLE. Lazy, judgmental, no sense of humor... And loyalty? Shit. In my day, loyalty meant keeping your mouth shut while you got hung upside down on a cross with a hot poker stuck up your ass. Not here. This is The new Vatican, yo, and I gotta say, I was expecting a little more respect. Not once has anybody clicked their heels when I’ve walked into a room.
And as you are all probably aware of by now, the most disloyal of all has been my “butler” Paolo Gabriele, or as he’s known around here, “Fink Pauly G”.
Now there’s a guy who just doesn’t get it. Complain, complain, complain. Judge, judge, judge. Rat, rat, rat. Sitting pretty with a cushy slot right up in the middle of all the good stuff, apparently, just wasn’t good enough for this douche. To put it in context, his biggest daily responsibility was laying out my robes and helping me get into my spanks. Besides that it was mostly running out to buy me some scratchies, maybe a pack of smokes, and once in a while, you know, make me a sandwich. (And yes, okay, I admit it...Once I did ask him to take the Pope-mobile and pick me up a bag of weed. But that was for research. I wanted to know what was tempting the kids.)
But the point is he had it pretty good, with a lot of cool perqs and minimal demands upon his time. Time, FOR WHICH, I’d like to point out, he was handsomely compensated, including salary, a clothing allowance, free kneepads, weekend use of the Pope-Mobile, matching 401k donations, guaranteed admission to Heaven, and dental.
Did you hear me?
FUCKING... DENTAL!
And what’s the thanks I get? Stabbed in the back, that’s what. The Holy Double-Cross. Undermined and embarrassed by a stack of confidential memos stolen from my desk and turned over to a Roman prosecutors office with more leakage problems than a herd of hydrated nuns on a long bumpy bus trip. ...And apparently all because Vatican Senior Management doesn’t meet the exacting moral standards of the guy in charge of my sock drawer.
So what’s the Prince of Rome to do?
Well honestly my first inclination is to go all Adolph on this guys ass...but I’m not going to do it. Instead I’m going to embrace this as a teachable moment. I’m going to resist temptation, and I’m going to turn the other cheek, the one with the dueling scar, and I’m going to set an example of coolness and chill, because as the re-borns would say, acting out in violent acts of vengeance is not “What Jesus Would Do”. And when I say “Jesus” I’m not referring God’s kid, but to Jesus Jimenez, who is the guy who runs security down at the cockfights I go to on Saturday nights. Lemme tell you, that hombre has to deal with a shitload of intoxicated stressed out bird rollers on a regular basis, and he never loses his cool. So taking his cue I’ve concluded that what’s most important is that I’m not going to lose my cool and I’m not going to overreact, because let’s face it, forgiveness is integral to our brand.
Fucking A.
Instead, what I’ve concluded is that the most righteous path for me to take to get out of this mess, and likewise deliver Fink Pauly G. to his rightful place in Hell, is the one that places the burden of labor on you, the mindless unwashed faithful, and your women. This will require of course, lots and lots of praying, lots of bake sales, lots of candle lightings, car washes, Christmas tree sales, ...maybe sell off an orphanage or two, and LOTS of dollar bills stuffed into the donations box. Fivers would be even better. And I don’t care where they come from as long as they make it into the box. Just saying.
And yeah, yeah, ...I know what you’re thinking, “yet another” test, “yet another” sacrifice on your part, right?
Well “boo-hoo”, excuse me, Job, you’re right. It IS endless, isn’t it? Then again, so is eternal damnation, which believe-you-me is something you’ll have top on your mind when the time comes for your big review. But let me just say here that although there’s no way I can promise it, your support ($$$) could be the dealmaker that gets you that spot in God’s luxury box that we all know you’ve been dreaming about...especially those of you who currently have leprosy.
So in closing, for your peace of mind let me just just reiterate:
Butler=bad.
Donations=good.
Everything that matters=under control. Trust me. I have lunch with God every week. Everything is cool.
Now go back to whatever it is that you do between Masses, as long as it doesn’t give you pleasure and it makes you feel suitably guilty, and whatever you do make sure that under no circumstances do you ever wear a condom.
Thank you for your continued blind obedience. Pax out.
Der Fuehrer of Faith,
Pope Benny
© 2012 J. Mark Rast
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