I was standing on the subway platform with one of my neighbors. Not a friend. Not even a friendly neighbor really. Not an unfriendly neighbor either. Just someone who lives in my building who I happened to be standing next to, and it would have been awkward not to acknowledge each other in some way. It’s probably happened to you.
We nodded and said good morning, how you doing blah blah blah. We don’t know each other, right? We happened to be standing next to a poster advertising a conversation with Pope Francis… you know… the little twat from the Vatican that everyone seems to like for one reason or another. I shouldn’t call him a twat. I don’t dislike him. Not fond of the Catholic Church or any other church at all, but I don’t dislike him. Who has the time to dislike someone they don’t know?
I look at the poster and kind of shook my head and grunted, because I had fuck all to say.
My neighbor looks at the same poster and says to me, “It’s nice to have a Pope we can like,” or some such bullshit.
“You like him?” I respond.
“Yes, he seems like a decent guy.”
“Does he?’ Okay, I admit I was feeling cuntish.
“Yes, he seems pretty progressive.”
“In what way?”
“Well, he spoke out on climate change and child abuse.”
So where do I go from here? It doesn’t seem to me that we’re setting the bar so high for this little crossdressing fucker. Is that all it takes? That he believes killing the planet and fucking children is wrong? That seems like a no-brainer to me. I don’t need the man to tell me that fucking children is wrong. Don’t tell me! Tell the priests! Fuck sake, tell the priests. Telling us just seems like public relations and a photo op.
I think we are allowed to expect more from a man with that kind of power and influence. In fact, I think we should be demanding more.
Fuck the Pope.
Change my mind.