Marijuana, Brutalism, Catholicism
Reading around the Internet (erm, well… here actually), I was reflecting on the fact that we Catholics live in a situation of inverted age pyramid.
Generally speaking, one notices that the young tend to be more rebellious and desirous of a new world order. They think they know better, and they think they can do better. Normally, these illusions change with the time and the process of growth associated with it. Not only we all know several examples of this change from our circle of relatives, friends and acquaintances, but the world of literature is full of it, showing that we are not talking a passing fancy of one or two generations, but of the elementary work of nature.
Not so this time.
The rebellious generations of the Sixties has a unique characteristic: in their pathetic effort to remain young (the poor idiots have idolised youth from their youth, and it stuck) they have remained rebellious in their old age. Many of them are now in positions of power, and from there pander to the revolutionary fantasies of all those never-grown-up, white-haired, arthritic Guevaras and wannabe adolescents who still dreams of changes and revolutions; very probably in a desperate attempt to cling to those times of madness and marijuana, or else to feel like they are being a force for good rather than pathetic agents of destruction. Look at their workings in politics, where an old guard of Sebeliuses, Bidens and Pelosis continue to defend an abortionist and pro-perversion political line to please their older voters, not without success until the demographics support them.
Nor is this limited to politics: our Sixty-Eighter Bishops are doing as much as they can to allow the smoke of Satan to blacken everything around; loony friars and nuns are at the forefront of every stupid campaign (from the supposed abolition of male priesthood, to the supposed abolition of war, to the supposed abolition of nature-made climate change), whilst oldish priests talk to you in the confessional as if they were having afternoon tea with a dollop of innocuous sin added to the cream and scones.
When you look, though, at the young, you see a different picture. Granted, many young people are indifferent, and most of them are either poorly or simply not instructed at all. A lot grow, I must say, rather stupid, or at least they look stupid because no one ever taught them about elementary thinking. Still, when you look a bit closer you discover that a new generation is growing who, when they wants to be militant, are militant against and not for abortion; when they are talk about the Mass want a reverent one, not a circus; and when they talk to a priest want to see in front of them a priest, not a friend.
I can’t remember when I last saw one of those strange people who want to serve communion (how are they called again? Oh, who cares…) below thirty-five, and those too are the very youngest. The typical “altar girl” here in England was last considered a girl in the mid to late Fifties. When I last was in Rome I saw several priests in cassocks, all of them young.
The generation of the Fifties is, to all intents and purposes, an inverted one. Like Benjamin Button, they grow more childish as they grow older, and insist in their stupid fantasies of knowing everything better and wanting to do everything smarter, like those pimple-plagued seventeen years old who think they have found the fundamental construction error of the planet. But they get older, and more pathetic with age. Like Brutalist architecture (another poisoned gift of the Sixties to the world), they were wrong when they were young and they got more wrong with age.
I blame the Marijuana