Heaven Knows There’s No Accounting for Newt Gingrich…
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….or Callista for that matter. To begin, we are almost as thrilled as the Gingrich family to find thatAmericahas become such a deeply understanding and forgiving place. It is truly breathtaking to see that American conservatives have taken to their collective bosom Newt Gingrich, a man who made history with his ethical violations while in congress, a man who walked out on not one but two seriously ill wives, a man who could justify years of infidelity while publically taking others to task for their moral failings and Callista, his comely companion in conspicuous concupiscence.
Naturally, as mother to his savior, I hear quite a bit from Newt in his present incarnation as a devout Catholic. And I certainly applaud him for asking for his fair share of God’s infinite mercy and forgiveness. Lord knows we have always had a soft spot for reformed sinners who seek redemption. But here’s where things get a little sticky. In Catholicism, the particular flavor of Christianity Newt has knowingly and willingly selected to call his own, there is a key preliminary that needs to be cleared before filing that plea for divine forgiveness. It’s a sort of moral inventory that requires a clear acknowledgment of your awareness of your singular responsibility for your sins—no lame excuses like the liberal media stole my moral compass— and an intellectual and emotional understanding that your sins are not merely offensive to God, but damaging to your own divine soul. A remarkably adept student like Newt would certainly understand that, in many ways, this moral inventory is not a mere hoop to jump through, but perhaps the most critical part of the exercise.
Now while we lack the security clearance to examine Newt’s heart and lack the jurisdiction to judge Newt’s soul, we do find ourselves wondering if a person such as Newt, who is possessed of a narcissism so profound—a narcissism that allows him to gin-up an amazingly eloquent justification for every sinful thought, word and deed— can actually form the presence of mind required to ask God for forgiveness.
But if it is the case that Newt cannot see far enough beyond his own ego to achieve the required level of sincere repentance, shouldn’t there be some kind of compassionate exception? Perhaps it would be something akin to allowing a judge to factor extreme youth or diminished mental capacity into the severity of the sentence for a criminal offense. Perhaps it’s time to encourage God to celebrate the morally handicapped and clear the path to divine clemency for the ethically disabled. Then again, perhaps it’s time for a nice cleansing rain of fire to ignite Newt and allow those who have long dwelt in darkness to bask in the flaming radiance of his epically sanctimonious hypocrisy. No doubt he’ll glow like a shining city on a hill.
Your Mother Mary @ January 21, 2012
If a Blessed Virgin Falls in the Woods in Wisconsin…
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….does it Take 150 Years to Make it Official?
Well, my dear children, apparently we really and truly appeared to Adele Brise in 1859 in Wisconsin! One does wonder why it would take the drones of Rome more than one hundred and fifty years to acknowledge my visit. Perhaps they think visions need time to mellow and develop subtle complexities, like Amontillado in the cask.
Naturally, when you’ve been rolling around heaven all day for as long as we have, 1859 seems like it was only yesterday. Adele was so sweet to add all the fashionable details that always get a rise out of the ever-couture-conscious curia—a brilliant white gown and a starry crown. We loved that gown! Yards and yards of an absolutely delicious spun gossamer – never stained and wore like iron.
But enough about me.
Just kidding. Let’s talk about the eternal relevance of the message we gave Adele in our Our Lady of Good Help avatar. Just to make sure the poor creature wasn’t frightened, we introduced ourselves as the Queen of Heaven – and since our Blessed Liberace wasn’t even a twinkle in his mother’s eye – there wasn’t such a great risk of confusion.
So we said to Adele, “Gather the children in this wild country and teach them what they should know for salvation.” And God bless her, she really gave it the old College of Cardinals try. Much converting, catechizing, religious order founding and the like.
Yet, as we look back over the hundred and fifty years since Adele got the message, did any of it advance the cause of heaven? Did Milwaukee become a hotbed of compassion? Not so much, but would the history of the region have been darker still? Hard to say. Maybe we get some credit for the progressive movement…but that’s kind of a stretch.
But what would happen if we charged someone with those same words today? Lord knows the country is still wild – although the wilderness is not a function of untamed and savage nature of the continent as much as it is a matter of the untamed and savage nature of its inhabitants.
So what exactly is it that today’s children “should know for salvation?”
Perhaps we should ask y’all to give me five hundred words on the subject to see who comes closest to the truth. Here’s a hint: essays that swirl around John 3:16 will be discarded.
Oh, don’t act so shocked.
It isn’t that there aren’t truths scattered throughout what is commonly look upon as scripture. The problem is the way in which that great tangle of words seems to have been deliberately constructed to obscure those truths. If that were not the case, would we really need to talk about exegesis? Of course not, but since we must talk about exegesis, and indeed we must always talk about exegesis when scripture is in the house, let’s boil it on down to that one word that answers my question. As we hinted above, in our analysis of the impact of our last visit to Wisconsin, the sine qua none of salvation is, and has always been, compassion.
But as history shows us again and again: compassion is a hard sell. Maybe we should have started the Ten Commandments with something about compassion. Granted, it is implicit in each Commandment, but that clearly wasn’t enough. Nor did it seem to bubble to the forefront of The Great Commission in “book two.”
So let’s try to bottom line it once again. Remember the golden rule and you’re half way to paradise; live by it, and you can come sit right next to me.
Blessings from above,
Your Mother Mary
admin @ December 19, 2010
The New Irish Martyrs: Brochette de Bourgeoisie
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In case you’re just waking from a coma, that mournful sound you hear isn’t a banshee. It’s the sound of the Irish people being subjected to involuntary sexual congress.
And – as seems to be the emerging tradition – the rapists have successfully blamed the victims and have piled back into their limousines to rush off to their next conquest.
Throughout human history, there have been many times when it’s been hard to spot the scoundrels who walk among the just. We’ll admit (now that we’re in divine intervention twelve step) that many is the time we’ve violated the Prime Directive and hurled down a case of boils to help illuminate someone’s internal ugliness. But these, my children, are times in which everyone knows who the scoundrels are and yet no one seems to be ready, willing or able to take them to task.
So today’s modest proposal is: FLOG A BANKER FOR JESUS.
Sound extreme? Well, surely those picking up the tab for the perverse excesses and grotesque indifference of the banking class feel as if they are taking their stripes with more to come. When the gamble pays off, it’s proof of the glory of capitalism and private investment; when it’s a bust, the private failure needs a public bailout to prevent complete systemic collapse.
A public bailout with no real strings attached. Why? Because, by their own admission, the scoundrels are not a local phenomenon. They’re a world-wide plague.
You’ve heard their logic. If you over-regulate one market, capital will flee to another. Well, let it flee and let it take it’s lumps! So far, rescues have not flooded the streets with small business loans. They’ve just given cheap money to banks to lend elsewhere at much higher rates of return.
That’s right children, you’re providing money at a discount to the banks, so they can stick it to you.
We’ve been told again and again how complex it all is and how “the little people” just fail to comprehend the subtleties. Yet, I’ll posit that if we strip away the smoke and mirrors, we’ll discover that there is no there there. No real wealth or product or innovation has been created from the churn. These are the money-changers we cast out of the temple two thousand years ago. These are the usurers.
However today there are no consequences. There is no shame; there is no punishment. Except for those who are at the bottom of the food chain, as the ordinary citizens of Ireland, Greece and the United States are so painfully discovering.
An elite class has put the financial well being of the entire world at peril, walked away with bags of public money and engineered the election of a raft of stooges who will facilitate their drive to squeeze the last drops of blood from the population.
Well, if that isn’t something to be thankful for, what is?
Sadly, people do seem to deserve the government they create – and it appears that it isn’t just the Russian’s who are forever destined to be slaves.
Steal a watch, go to jail. Steal a nation’s future, buy another Rolex for your dog-walker.
It’s the least you can do to stimulate the economy.
Your Blessed Mother Mary
admin @ November 29, 2010
Something Wicked This Way Comes, Mitch McConnell and his chums!
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With the midterm elections just days away – and the very real prospect of the GOP taking control of the House and plunging the world into economic darkness, all that is spooky may not be so harmless. This Halloween jack-o-lanterns and bon fires won’t be enough to keep the ghouls at bay—that will require everyone to get out and vote for the DEMS….even if you have to hold your nose!
Sorry to have to mention it on the eve of our favorite holiday, but the goblins and banshees who are now wailing about the deficit they facilitated under the Shrub’s reign of terror, have really connected with the vast unhappy majority. Why anyone would want to vote for the team that backwashed in the apple bobbing tub?
It’s God’s own mystery….and she’s not being very forthcoming with details.
But aside from the looming disaster at the polls, there is still so much to enjoy in these beautiful days of long shadows and amber light. The end of October has always been deeply Magical—and trust me, when Mother Mary says Magical with a capital M, she’s not fooling around.
Even the most skeptical feel it, no matter how hard they cling to rationality. It’s in the apples and pumpkins, in the way the wind taunts us with teasing gusts, in the rich and almost spicy way the earth smells after an autumn rain but most of all, it’s in the things we see but don’t quite see in the half-light as night overcomes the day.
But despite what you might hear from the mentally unbalanced, and political nightmares aside, the Magic of autumn is real but it isn’t anything sinister. Maybe the veil does rub a little thin and things from one realm are felt in the next – but it isn’t anything that “Christians” need get their panties in a twist about, and it certainly isn’t a time when forces of darkness have special sway—that brief window of time when evil walks the earth unchecked is known as network sweeps week…or a BBQ at chez Chaney.
And you may be surprised to learn that, much as we the divine do appreciate the flowers and prayers that come with All Saints Day, Halloween is the real draw for the heavenly party set.
This year my Blessed Cousin Elizabeth is joining us to hit the Halloween trail as something truly scary. Since that whacky Wicca, Christine O’Donnell, burst onto the scene with a hearty thumbs-up from that dumb-like-a-Fox-News-commentator Sarah Palin, Elizabeth and I have been kicking around the idea of dressing up at this frighteningly ill-informed duo.
We tossed out the idea of doing some kind of a riff on My Friend Wicca….but neither one of us wanted to play the horse’s ass.
Then Liz had a stroke of divine inspiration and suggested that the identical cousin concept would be a perfect fit for Sarah and Christine, et voila we’re going out as The Patty Dukes of Hazzard—identical, gun-toting, NASCAR-worshiping, Tea-Party-pandering cousins.
Look for the two cute brunettes with vacant looks, halters, hats, jeans so tight we can’t sit down and mavricky little demi-boots. If you don’t recognize us by our costumes, ask us a question about anything of substance and we’ll turn facts to hash.
It may take some practice to do Sarah and Christine justice – I’m not sure Liz and I can be as convincing as they are when they demonstrate that they have no grasp of history and no idea what in the name of God the founding fathers, whom they claim to worship and adore, actually put into the blessed Constitution.
We’re diving into inanity with both feet, so if we don’t win top honors for creative concept costume at this year’s Carnival of the Saints, there will be hell to pay.
Now we know some of you are muttering about the frivolity of costumes and carnivals when there is so much misery in the world….and yet what better way to cope? It’s non-addictive and no one gets hurt.
If that isn’t a divine good time, what is?
And despite the cheap shot about the spontaneous contortion of Christian panties, we do know we shouldn’t dismiss the sincere concerns of the faithful with a singularly cavalier remark….and yet we really don’t have time for all that Halloween = devil worship nonsense.
Why is it so hard for these quasi-Calvinists to let loose and have a little fun?
Do they really think that people are putting their souls, and the souls of their children, in peril by dressing up as Lady Gaga or Newt Gingrich and going out for trick or treat?
I wish they would get equally worked up about how damaging it is to raise children in a culture of guns, violence, racism and misogyny. Are they focused on the amount of divine disfavor that attaches to those who endorse torture and capital punishment? Talk about scary!!!!! I’ll take a six year old in fangs any day of the week over some fat dude wrapped in a Confederate flag blathering on about the Second Amendment or how we need to get tough on crime.
But for those of us who appreciate just how divinely delicious Halloween can be, it’s so nice that it’s come into its own as a holiday. Don’t think we aren’t listening when you thank God for that pop-up costume shop at the mall that sold you the zombie outfit.
It’s now the second biggest home decorating occasion after Christmas. I’m waiting for it to take top honors— since it truly is a much nicer holiday than the boy’s birthday bash. Really off-the-hook creative parties, a delicious wickedness, no gifts, no guilt, no travel. What’s not to love?
Now don’t get all spooky on Mother Mary, because I’m not campaigning for Christmas to keep the holiday crown. Let’s be real children – we all know that the boy was born in the spring. Lambs, shepherds, the star, the Roman census…all spring flings. Doing a little Winter solstice thing is a must, so I’m not voting for taking Christmas / Saturnalia off the books….but in all honesty, it has become less than joyous for too many of us.
Naturally, I still blame the Magi for sowing the seeds of destruction. What were they thinking?
The last thing a new mother needs is people in from out of town as houseguests! And that goes gifts or no gifts! Not to be an ingrate, we knew the whole thing was a delivery organized from above, and we certainly made good use of the gold, but house guest bearing gifts of funerary herbs and spices to mark a child’s birth were a little too OTN even for Heaven Father.
And you know what a pain in the tuchas that whole gift giving tradition has turned out to be! I’d love to just say bygones and have the Magi over for some mahjongg, but really, there may not be enough divinity in us or scotch on the shelf to get there.
So let’s all try to forget about the aggravation, hassle and disappointment of the Christmas season that is roaring down the tracks and enjoy all the harmless spooky fun of Halloween. But before the last piece of candy corn has slipped through your fingers, do make it a point to get out and vote so that civilization doesn’t meet the same fate as that sweet treat….crushed under a boot heel.
Have a Happy Halloween–and remember to be safe as you mingle with the undead because the creature in the hideous Carl Rove mask….may actually be Carl Rove!
And it just doesn’t get any scarier than that!
Blessed Mother Mary
admin @ October 30, 2010
Elvis the Younger and the “Failure” of Multiculturalism in Germany
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Sometime back in the 1980’s, if memory serves, the divinely favored songwriter, Blessed Elvis the Younger (nee Elvis Costello), challenged us with the eternal question:
“What’s so funny about peace, love and understanding?”
Well, my dear children, time and time again, the sad irony of that poignant query flares up like a miserable throbbing episode of gout.
The dark assessment by German Chancellor Angela Merkel of her country’s “utter failure” to integrate immigrants from the Middle East into the fabric of society, is yet another painful example of how difficult it is for people to achieve the understanding that is the foundation for both love and peace. Despite much blather about echoes of Nazism in the press, her assessment really doesn’t reflect anything unique about Germans or those who have migrated to Germany in search of a better life. What it does reflect is a basic human social trait – a nearly hard-wired impulse for tribalism.
And don’t think for a vain moment that you’ve evolved beyond the tribe, merely because you are clever enough to spending some QT with the BVM, darlings.
If you root for a sports team (yes, college ball counts), bother to vote or even have a pulse, you are identifying yourself with, and doubtless pledging allegiance to, some kind of tribe.
While we wish we could say that the smattering of divine wisdom that has drizzled down from above has helped to curb the tribal impulse (or at least confine it to comparatively benign divisions let’s say between MAC vs PC), sadly that’s just not the case. Our heavenly fingerprints have grotesquely exacerbated the situation by fueling a seismic shift that has made the road to understanding nearly impassible for all but the most determined.
To make matters worse, throughout history, those who have claimed divine authority have been planting our prints at the scene of endless episodes of bad taste and countless crimes against humanity.
As a duly certified spokesperson for Abrahamic Faiths, Inc.(AKA “AFI” the corporate parent of Judaism, Christianity and Islam – all faiths listed by age for convenience), we can assure you that our board of directors would like to state for the record that we have never authorized a crusade, jihad or war nor have we ever endorsed rape, pillage, the taking of slaves or the desecration of the temples or holy places of other faiths (Denials Copyright 2010 – all rites and rituals reserved to the Almighty).
Accept no imitations. There are no franchises of My Father’s House®.
Yet, notwithstanding the fact that the AFI is a closely held corporation owned and operated wholly by the Holy Family, some very charismatic people have “credited” AFI for all of these atrocities, to justify their own bad behavior and then had the audacity to create elaborate costumes to mark themselves as favored by God.
Now that’s some chutzpah.
Here’s a nice example of religiously induced sartorial showboating. Wearing a hat or head covering as symbol of man’s humility before God somehow gained traction a few thousand years back. No one from this side of the divine divide asked for it, but it was harmless enough, until we had to listen to centuries of absurd debate about which kind of hat or scarf was fancy enough to demonstrate one’s humility before God. We kid you not.
In Mother Mary’s neighborhood there are countless storefront shuls. Each subset of the devout has some distinct variation on dress to demonstrate what a real Jew should wear to temple. One day we heard two men from the same pod of round-fur-hat-with-satin-crown-Jews dissing someone one in lesser shtetl-garb on the street “Why don’t they dress like Jews? He looks like a shaygetz in that fedora!”
And this we should be hearing from men on the way to shul? Oye, such a shonda.
Yet despite all the petty differences we vaunt, Ms. Merkel has caused much wringing of hands by suggesting that religiously observant, socially conservative, modesty-craving people who don’t eat pork or drink alcohol and the secular, wurst-worshiping, October-festing, speedo-sporting Germans are not on the same page.
It bears repeating that neither the native Germans nor the migrants from Muslim countries have cornered the market on xenophobia. Let’s not forget that English inherits both the words xenophobia and barbarian from the highly cultured and cosmopolitan ancient Greeks who, ironically, were more than happy to point out the dangers and deficiencies of those who were not ethnically and culturally Greek. And what fueled distain of the non-Greek? What fuels any oppression of the other, dear ones? Fear and ignorance. Not values we’d like to attribute to our deliciously sybaritic Athenian friends.
So what’s a heavenly mother to do?
How do we achieve understanding and bridge the gap between those who worship at the Weingarten and those who worship at the mosque? Democrats and Republicans? Can the farmer and the cowman ever really be friends?
Perhaps. But it won’t be easy.
Understanding requires a fundamental change in language. To begin we need to stop talking about tolerance. We tolerate things that annoy, irritate or inconvenience us: ants at a picnic, sand in a bathing suit, the weak and nasty coffee you only get at coffee shops. At a minimum, we suggest that human beings, as divine creations, merit benign indifference.
Do you want to be merely tolerated? We thought as much.
Let’s review the spectrum of moods with which humans encounter the other in society: hate, tolerance, indifference, joy, love. Yet if we look to history, these seem less like points on a spectrum of affinity than different quantum rings. That’s not pessimism, my darlings, that is reality, which is incontrovertibly the foundation for change and the benchmark that allows us to mark our progress toward our goal.
To make the leaps from hate to tolerance to benign indifference, and create societies that honestly embrace diversity of race, faith and ideology, we must be individually committed to supporting opportunities for education and exchange that further the understanding that is the condition precedent to peace and love. More critically, we need to examine our own behavior on a cellular level and work to cleanse our own hearts of every last vestige of fear and ignorance.
Sure, it’s PC, but it’s the kind of PC that I pray even the most devout worshiper at the shrine of MAC can get behind.
Enough kvetching for today, kinders. All this philosophizing has left your mother a touch peckish, so pardon us as we tuck into shtick schnitzel and a sassy Riesling.
Wishing you the wisdom and courage to understand that to someone the other is you,
Your Blessed Mother
admin @ October 24, 2010
Perez Hilton, Carl Paladino and the Magic Pastrami
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Well, my dears, it has been a week of spectacular transformations. Where to begin!
Gossip queen, Perez Hilton has been on a PR blitz for his extreme makeover from an angry, fat, pink-haired bottom-feeder to the sleek, preppy patron saint of bullied children. We happened to catch Perez’s shape-shifting action on Ellen’s show, and we give major style points to the handlers who are orchestrating the roll-out of this reformed savager of celebrities. Yes, Perez claims to have had a damascene moment after hearing of the latest round of bullying-induced gay teen suicides. Although Ellen seemed more than a little skeptical about Perez’s pledge to turn his back on his life of grime that has made him millions, we’ll just have to wait and see if this is Saul of Tarsus (aka St. Paul) redux, or some bit of whacky Joachim Phoenix-style theater. We are cautiously optimistic. Perhaps Perez (nee Mario) is finally growing wise with years and taking the good counsel of his charming sister, Barbara.
For the moment, we’ll give this a shout out as a move to make the world a touch less ugly.
But speaking of ugly, we have also been following the brutish escapades of New York’s Carl Paladino. As the truly prophetic Frank Rich cautions us, this b-list d-nozzle isn’t an isolated case of the crazies. This guy is the angry boil that erupts on the skin as the symptom of systemic infection. While the news was filled with the tragic tales of young lives cut short that put Perez on the path of the righteous and while the people of one Bronx neighborhood were desperately trying to figure out how their kids could have gotten involved in the kidnap and torture of gay people, Carl decided to get busy with the Brooklyn-based Rabbi Levin who wants to persecute gay people on earth, as a prelude to their final punishment in a hell’s own Disco Inferno.
Oye on crack.
Politics being politics, the remarkably tone-deaf Paladino eventually realized that, by following Rabbi Levin’s script (and I do mean a literal script) he had revealed himself to the good people of New York as an intolerant idiot who is unfit to be taken seriously as a candidate for governor. Predictably, in the disco tradition, Carl busted out a few awkward moves to try and dance his way out of the embrace of the Rabbi he’d hooked up with as the bartender shouted last call.
Then things really got funny.
According to the New York Times, Rabbi Levin was more than a little miffed when Carl broke his pledge to save the last dance for him.
“I was in the middle of eating a kosher pastrami sandwich,” Rabbi Levin said. “While I was eating it, they come running and they say, ‘Paladino became gay!’ Isaid, ‘What?’ And then they showed me the statement. I almost choked on the kosher salami.”
Hmmm, as the homophobe Rabbi babbles, the pastrami become salami…and he’s afraid of choking…so is the salami really salami or is he afraid of his own innate desire to explore his own homosexual oral fixations? Naturally, we had to share this with Sigmund, who thought it was such a classic he’s going to add it the disambiguation for his “Freudian Slip” Wikipedia entry.
Oye, such a luftmench, that Rebbe Levin!
But what is it that’s really got the Rebbe’s payot in a twist? Sadly, he thinks his desire to protect his children from the horror of men holding hands has something to do with the wishes of the divine Almighty. For that confusion, heaven knows we’re sorry. We know what you’re thinking: don’t be sorry Mother M, just shine a little light into the darkness and clear things up.
Well, Lord knows we’re trying.
But in all fairness, from the day we decided to get off of our cloud and join you in family group therapy, legions have been writing to us with a huge range of eternal questions–some whoppers and some trivial – issues that have been plaguing humanity for…well, we guess for as long as there has been humanity. There’s a lot of material to cover so let’s show a little patience people.
What say you we start with the broad framework of what passes for divinely inspired guidance and work our way down to the specifics?
We know that there have been fumbling and ultimately failed attempts to distill the scraps of divine wisdom into some kind of an owner’s manual – and, no, the Bible isn’t of much use as it is one of the fumbling and failed attempts of which we speak. We do wonder why anyone with the slightest inkling of the odd history and dubious provenance of the text in the current edition of the Bible – and the New Testament is only slightly less flawed than the Old – would be misguided enough to believe every syllable to be revealed truth.
Now, had we not actually experienced the mind-numbing torment of reading the good book cover to cover, perhaps we could give the fundamentalists the benefit of the doubt. But, familiar as we are with every jot and tittle, Biblical literalism seems nothing short of metal illness. We can almost get behind the notion of exegesis – the notion that meaning comes to us after meditating on the text – but the idea that every phrase provides meaningful and mandatory guidance? That’s just plumb crazy. Take Leviticus, for instance. Does God really want you to “just say no” to those abominable, yet oh-so-delicious crab puffs before you sell your daughters into slavery? Trust Mother Mary, my darlings, heaven abides no such nonsense.
Seriously people, even if the Bible were authentic, divine and had been impeccably transcribed, transliterated and translated, applying all of the Bible’s obtuse bits of wisdom to modern life is a bit like trying to understand how to get the most from your smart phone by consulting a five thousand year terracotta tablet inscribed with a recipe for old pharaoh’s favorite fruitcake. To be fair to the bakers and scribes of Egypt, you’d probably find that such a recipe was easy to follow and likely to yield a pleasant result, the very antithesis of most of the directions found in the Old Testament.
And it’s not just the Abrahamic tradition that’s got it wrong. From one end of the planet to the other, there isn’t a single social group that hasn’t given in to the temptation to create and impose a code and claim it to be divinely authored.
But lest we be accused of advocating anarchy, having social rules and codes is a good thing.
In fact, using those rules and codes to support such valuable ends as cooperation, compassion, peace and justice is a very good thing. But what is a very bad thing, is when someone masquerading as the embodiment of divine authority tries to impose personal prejudices or a selfish or classist economic agenda on his fellows. “Let’s all liberate Jerusalem…let’s save the country from the horrors of miscegenation, communism, fluoridated water…let’s protect marriage from the homosexuals…let’s protect our borders from immigrants…let’s protect women from themselves.”
Oh, let’s not.
How many times have we heard some madman clamoring on about the return of Biblical morality, as if that were a good thing? And how many times does he find an audience of fools who are willing to take up torches and burn down their neighbors’ homes? Ah well, we had such high hopes during the Enlightenment, but sadly critical thinking has never been as contagious as ignorance. To twist the words of the Divine Dorothy Parker quip: you can lead a whore to culture….and you can probably get her elected to congress as a freshly minted Tea Party princess.
So then, we know what you’re thinking. (Really. We actually do know what you’re thinking. It’s a gift). If humanity can’t look to ancient holy books, scrolls and the like for guidance, where should it turn? Well, dear ones, how about your contemporary holy books? How about science? How about the wisdom that comes from the divine within, instead of looking exclusively for the external divine? How about exploring what it means to live by the Golden Rule, instead of wasting time trying to appease the ritual-hungry, detail-obsessed “God” who is entirely a creation of your own imagining?
We do often wonder how the notion of God, as a ham-fisted despot with the soul of an accountant, get such traction?
Perhaps I’ll contact Perez’s PR team. Maybe it’s time for God to join the party and roll-out a radical makeover. I’m sure Ellen’s people would take his agent’s call.
Wishing you love, light and latkes,
Your Blessed Mother
Your Mother Mary @ October 17, 2010
Madonna vs Magdelena – Who’s Really Vogueing for Jesus?
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Well my dears, we are delighted to report that our last posting produced a virtual avalanche of shout-outs for Cher, the beloved, and shout-downs for Palin, the power besotted.
What we are less delighted to report is a tidal-wave of hostility directed at my divine female presence. The issue for these folks appears to be that I fail to consistently live up to their idea of Mary, the ever-blessed and, most critically it would appear, ever-virgin.
Wading through the vile tide of hate mail, my first thoughts were not exactly what you’d call Christian…in the very loosest use of the term. As a general rule, when dealing with the divine, do not get all up in our holy grill. Listen for the snap!
After some chill-time with a sassy pinot, we were calm enough to take advantage of our divine perspective and discount all the nasty-grams as the little more than the pathetic puling of frightened children, trapped in adult bodies. With a few thousand years under my belt, I can take the heat, but I do cringe when I think what other women of power put up with – I know Hillary and Michelle have had more than a bellyful of gynophobia and frankly I’m sure that even Ms. Palin and her twisted sister, that other popular GOP entertainer, Anne Coulter, get their fair share of crap for being independent and assertive.
And what is that problem, you may ask? Well, ladies and gents, it comes as no shock to those of us on the front lines, we clearly do not yet live in a post-feminist age. Too many “men” are still afraid that the big bad va-jay-jay is going to steal their penis and enslave them, and too many “women” are loathed to take full responsibility for their lives and continue to cling to some morbid daddy-take-care-of-me flavored infantilism.
What’s going on people?
So let’s back it up a few millennia to clear up a few things. Sorry to disappoint, but I, your divine Mother Mary, am now and have forever been 100% woman. I’m not, nor have I ever been, a holy robot or sexless zombie. I’ve got all the girl parts and know exactly how to use them.
But before we start in on the whole virgin birth business, where did the “ever-virgin” thing come into play? Even in the flawed and free-floating narrative of the New Testament (a topic for another post) you see James, the brother Christ. But there is no narrative of his “virgin” birth, so one could reasonable suppose that Joseph and I conceived him the old-fashioned, non-parthenegenic way: without an extra divine assist.
So what is it about virginity? What is it about girl power kept under wraps that makes the divine narrative so much more compelling for so many? What exactly are people afraid of? Is it the generalized horror that we all share regarding our parents having sex? Or is it more specific to female sexuality and purity? Don’t get me started on “honor” killings – I may just break all the rules about physical intervention in the mundane realm and start hurling down lightening bolts.
A natural extension of this line of inquiry is an examination of misogyny throughout the culture. You’ve heard all the “jokes” men tell about their wives and girlfriends….but never about their mothers or sisters. Circle back to Cher, we ask, what’s it all about Alfie? Are these men all living in fear of castration? Is it unresolved homosexual latency? What exactly is it that fuels all the hostility? Compare and contrast two seemingly diverse Vagina Free Zones or VFZs. The first is a dinner party: eight gay men. The second is a poker party: eight straight men. What do they have in common? No vaginas in the room. Point of contrast? Hmmmmm. Perhaps one group has nicer hors d’oeuvres?
So back to ever-blessed me and the ever-constant projections of gentle, kind, butter- wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth goodness. Always in contrast to the Magdalena – the original whore with the heart of gold. Frankly, my dears, Magdalena was never a whore in the modern sense. Back in the day, any woman who didn’t obey the men folk was called a whore….sadly, that still seems to be true.
But be she a whore or not, it seems every woman who has ever lived has had to dance around men who live in a universe organized around a false dichotomy of Madonnas and Putanas. And you know which dull and lifeless side of the fence I’ve been cast. I guess it isn’t a huge surprise, since y’all have so little to go on.
In fairness, if ever there were a truly supporting role, handmaiden to God was it. So based upon the few lines of haiku in the literature, and a few curiously translated miraculous appearances – everything that anyone thinks about me is by its very nature a fiction – it may ultimately be a close to the truth, but there is no reason to believe one tale over another. But when it comes to my appearance, history does give you a hint. Not too many pale, delicate featured blonds have waltzed forth from the house of David.
Which takes me to the other Madonna, who, in her new kabalistic avatar, is more and more like a virgin. Curious choice, dear, but there is something charming about the symmetry.
Speaking things likened unto virgins, next week we’ll chat about priestly celibacy…or maybe the Christian Franchise Problem – the Dominoes Effect.
Ciao bellas!
The BVM
Your Mother Mary @ October 8, 2010
Reject The Cynicism of Sarah Palin and Embrace The Splendor of Cher
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As we watch what passes for political debate in America, we find it remarkable that instead of illuminating the path to a new age of enlightenment, the remarkable communications technology of the “information age” has led to an epidemic of ignorance. Beyond our own divinely narcissistic fascination with the fact that the most ardent proponents of “faith” seem to have confused a hodgepodge of ad hoc justifications for personal prejudices with a the religious ideology they so loudly and frequently proclaim, we are moved to tears by the reckless and cynical twisting of history.
And yes I will get to the sins of Sarah and the splendor of Cher in a moment.
History is not a merely academic matter, children—and the demagoguery of Sarah Palin, Glen Beck, Rush Limbaugh, Bill O’Reily and Anne Colter is born of a long and loathsome tradition. Savonarola whipped up the people of Florence and lit the bonfires of the vanities – what gave this unsightly little fellow all that inflammatory power? A miserable economy and huge divisions between the haves and the have-nots. Sounds familiar? And what was his message? A simple call of back-to-basics radical moral reform. Liberate yourself from the weighty burden learning, art and culture that is dragging you down to hell. Wear a hair-shirt, it goes with everything!
Hitler offered a simple, nationalistic “traditional German values” message as the solution to the complex economic problems that beset Germany after World War I. People in pain liked what they heard and didn’t question whether it made any sense or was grounded in reality. In short order, abandonment of the conventions of civilization, perversion of the rule of law and extermination of its own citizenry became “traditional German values.”
But Hitler was in many ways, just the crazy front man. The real evil genius in Nazi Germany was Joseph Goebbels, the father of modern political advertising. Trust me, loath Karl Rove as ye may, Rove, his mentor Lee Atwater, Roy Cohen were all just building off the pioneering work of Goebbels, playbook of smear and propaganda. Why the history lesson, Mother Mary, you ask? Well kids, just like my ever-blessed self, everything old is new once again. Times are hard and a dark cadre is working diligently to ignite the bonfires of inanity.
Yes, children, it’s time to talk about the Tea Party.
When we see people who acted as enablers during George Bush’s reckless, drunken spending spree complaining about the current deficit, we have to push back our luminous blue mantle and scratch our head. Old people who are being made more comfortable by medicare, complaining about the size of government? Where do these ideas come from? They come from ignorance, they are fueled by fear, and they are broadcast by FOX NEWS. A propaganda organ owned, operated by, and working solely in service of, the same people who have outsourced the economy and engineered the largest redistribution of wealth in history: trillions from what was the middle class to the top 1% of the economic pyramid.
Now this may all seem decidedly political, but there is a divine lesson I’m working on. Those who are ignore the lessons of history are bound to repeat them – and those who offer simple solutions to complex problems are invariably full of crap and trying to take you and yours for a long and painful ride. Which brings us back to Sarah Palin. We have watched in wonder as this mavricky creature has risen from the obscurity of the tundra to claim her own mantel as Our Lady of Perpetual Self-promotion.
Unfortunately, as much as we admire her moxie, we’re saddened that her relentless quest for more media time and personal enrichment comes at a huge price to the well-being of the country she so often claims to love. We despair that she, like most flag-wavers, has reduced the idea of the nation to idolatry, with patriotism just a variation on rooting for Ohio State.
These standard-bearers for “common sense” have no concern for what the nation stands for and no understanding of its organizing principles, yet a very keen understanding of how “reverence” for symbols and simple slogans can carry the day. What exactly are the real American values she and her ilk go on about? Sounds altogether too much like what the Fuehrer was pedaling in Triumph of the Will. And without a foundation in history, “common sense American Values” doubtless sounds like a fresh and fabulous fix-all approach. Especially to a nation that didn’t collectively cringe when the bulk of the government was reorganized into a single department of Homeland Security. Seems clear that Orwell’s cautionary words have likewise gone unread.
A population with no interest in looking to history is perfectly ripe for exploitation by Palin and the other member of her cadre at FOX. As if the cynical exploitation of the vast legions of people who are suffering economic hardship and have no idea how their suffering came to pass were not enough to piss us off, let’s move on to the theological portion of this theater of the absurd.
Not only are these “moral giants” rolling up the flag for an extra-kinky round of towel-snapping at their own version of the baths of Rome, they have taken blasphemy to a whole new level, where God Bless America is a code phrase for “fight on my team or I will destroy you.” Oh, that’s a mighty big tent, Sarah, if you are setting up camp in Lilliput. (Yes, I know you don’t read dear…have an aid look it up for you on the net. )
As promised, with apologies for the length of the digressions, we contrast the damage done by the cynical Sarah with the splendor of Cher. Seriously people, what’s not to love about Cher? Like Sarah, she is an absurd creation, but unlike Sarah, no one has been hurt by her outrageous Bob Mackie gowns, endless farewell tours, constant reinvention, or her passion for remodeling both real estate and her face. Cher’s self-promotion, self-awareness, and even her self-mocking, have made the world a brighter and more hopeful place.
We are happy to answer Cher’s musical challenge, confirming that we do, in fact, believe in life after love. We’d be even happier if people rose to the challenge offered by Sarah and friends who say it’s time to “take back America.” Indeed it is. It’s time to take America back from the darkly cynical likes of you and return it to those who want to see a rising tide that lifts all boats…not just a single narrow tidal bore propelling a sparkling new yacht christened the S.P. AMBITION from Juneau AK to Washington D.C.
Your Mother Mary @ October 3, 2010
Who in Heaven’s Name
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After sorting through a surprising number of unpalatable and unpublishable comments on my last post from the unhinged, it seems like an opportune time to chat about who really speaks for the divine. Now, I’ll be the first to admit that, heretofore, we in the celestial realm have had some difficulty in getting our point across – many a slip betwixt cup and lip, as an old friend used to say. I’m not quite sure why our efforts seemed to have created more confusion than clarity. Could it be that the psychic pressure of a divine revelation is enough to send most people over the edge? When I look over the last few thousand years (as a relative newbie, I can’t comment with any authority before that), I see the landscape scattered with prophets blathering such misery-inducing nonsense that I can see why one is hard pressed to distinguish between an actual messenger from above and a run-of-the-mill howling lunatic. And, unnaturally, we have to factor in the spin control asserted by the theological-industrial complex to concentrate power for political and economic purposes. So put that all together and we have the noxious combination of the prophet problem and the profit problem, and it is no wonder that so much horror as been inflicted on the world in the name of God, but without his blessing or endorsement. On that point, let us be crystal clear.
After my appearance in Brooklyn, I naively thought that I had set the record straight. I found a really great combination of messenger and a top-notch team gathered around to champion the cause. We even had the whole thing translated and transcribed in the New York Times, for God’s sake. But alas, not only did that fail to do the trick. The Times was hoodwinked by the Bushites into supporting that horrible tragedy in Iraq. Oye on crack.
So now I’m online and trying to work out a little dialog with those who still have some interest in a little advice from a Jewish mother with a few thousand years on Abby and Anne and the rest of the advice yentas. So let me know what’s on your mind and the heavenly host and I will toss around a few ideas and get back to you.
Benedicite!
Your Mother Mary
Your Mother Mary @ September 19, 2010
An Unfiltered Chance to Chat….It’s Simply Divine!
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Greetings My Beloved Children,
So sorry to have been such a poor correspondent, but I’m hoping this blessed technology will make it easier to keep in touch. Lord knows it’s less exhausting than materializing every few decades. And while I hear that online communiqués can be subject to misinterpretation, the gap between what I say and how it gets interpreted can’t be any more pronounced than it has been under the stewardship of the “keepers of the faith.” I mean, really. To think that all the dish I shared at Lourdes and Fatima is still locked up in some Vatican vault. What a bloody nuisance. Let’s be real, my friends, I am the Queen of Heaven, after all. If I had wanted to keep things a secret I could easily have dropped in at the Pope’s summer palace for an apparition and a swim. But no, I chose to chat with simple country people I though would have the good sense to dance into their respective villages and spread the happy news. Instead, my words have been cast as warnings and threats. All darkness and foreboding? Me? Oh pah-leez! All that spooky stuff is just part of the mind control agenda of those tedious eunuchs in roman collars. Ah well, I must say my last visit was a bit more successful – Brooklyn in 2000-1. It’s all on the down-low, but I’m still in touch with sweet devout Raphael and that sassy Brendan – an absolute PR genius. That was a really good time and it just broke my heart that those unsightly zealots decided to turn the world on its head just a few months later. Just imagine if they had just stayed home! No war in Afghanistan. No war in Iraq. Four fewer years of Cheney and the Shrub. I tell you, when I look back at all that evil bullshit, it really makes me wish that there were such a thing as hell. But, alas, it’s time for us all to steal a page from Sid’s (aka the Buddha’s) playbook and do a one-eighty with all that anger and channel the energy into compassion.
It really does feel good to jot down a few thoughts after a few thousand years of being misquoted. Like stretching your legs after that miserable flight from LA to Sydney. Don’t ask, it’s a long story for another post. I don’t know if I’ll be making this a daily habit, but do stop by as I give you the heavenly 411 on anything that strikes me as worth chatting about. I’ll leave you with a little something to meditate on. Upstairs, we’ve been wondering exactly how it came to pass that some people seem to think our lad Jesus, who toss the money changers out of the temple and told his followers to abandon there families and give their worldly goods to the poor (yes that Jesus) has morphed into an investment banker with a taste for strip clubs and golf? The Gospel of Wealth? Well, heaven knows, irony is alive and well in America.
I leave you with some divine words from Hal David.
“What the word needs now, is love, sweet love….”
Xxoo
Mother Mary
Your Mother Mary @ September 16, 2010
