Extreme Pollyan-Ing: The Naked Emperor Has A Brilliant Strategy!

 

Oh come on! He is “carefully gauging the reactions”…

Dear readers,

a new champion of Pollyannism has appeared on the scene. Or if he was there, I was not aware of him. The blogosphere is a big place, you know.

The “Witness” is a blog with the probably good intention of being a “Witness for the Faith”. In the sense of “good, traditional, Catholic fellowship”. Which is very fine in itself.

It is, I allow myself to say, a tad less good when the witness for the the faith covers, or sanctions, or approves of a behaviour that is the exact contrary of the “good, traditional Catholic fellowship” it claims to support. Because you see: if it ain’t traditional, it can’t be good.

Now: the said blog starts from the last disgraceful interview (I use the word advisedly: if you talk with a journalist for an hour with the intent of having your thoughts published it is a damn interview and the entire world – bar the Pollyannas and Father Lombardi; and I have my strong doubts on the latter – knows it) and comes out with this piece of profound Sunday Machiavellian thinking 

What does the Pope get out of this? The answer is in the flurry of reaction to the Scalfari interview. As he watches the curial functionaries running about reacting to this leak he gains some very critical intelligence. The Pope is usually surrounded by a coterie of careerists and sycophants whose job it is to mediate the Pope’s relations with the world at large. Essentially they are to make sure there are no surprises. By carefully gauging the reaction to the Scalfari leaks he can determine which of those he can trust.

This might have been written in a highly sarcastic tone, in the “eye of the Tiber”-style. If it were true, it would be brilliant satire. Unfortunately, I have the impression the author of the words means what he has written. Let’s hope not, of course; but there is not much ground for optimism. 

Now, this is a new and brilliant argument.

Following it, one would suggest to the Pope that he should be found in a “gay” sauna, stark nakkid and obviously intoxicated, together with Monsignor Ricca and some of his, well, gay companions; and procced to be photographed whilst singing Argentinian sea-shanties, and dancing the tango with the said “gay” men whilst wearing a red nose. 

A great reaction would ensue.

At this point, Francis would (cough) “gain some very critical intelligence”. “By carefully gauging the reaction to the Scalfari leaks he can determine which of those he can trust”.

Lord, give me strenght…

I have already reported about an astonishing piece of extreme Pollyannism, but I wonder whether this one should not take the biscuit.

So: a Pope would confuse one billion plus Catholics every, say, eighteen hours in order to see which ones among the careerists and sycophants around him is to be trusted. He certainly can’t believe those who don’t criticise him are not careerists and sycophants. Actually, common sense says that he should suspect them first. So it can only be about selecting the worst among the bad.

I wonder what some bloggers drink in the morning (kool-aid, is the answer; with Francis flavour). I try to criticise other Catholic bloggers as little as possible, or to do it only when the example that should not be followed is extreme.

This here is beyond extreme.

It is parody.

It is involuntary Monthy Phyton humour of the most Monthy Phyton-esque kind.

Actually, it is a pity Monthy Phyton aren’t around anymore: they would have such a field day with the Pollyannas…

Papolatry is among us. Keep your eyes open and your brains switched on, because the number of the Papolaters isn’t going to decrease anytime soon.

—

If it smells very badly, it’s brown and comes from a cow I am sorry to burst your bubble, but you are in front of a load of bullshit. Even if the cow is ever so white, and ever so humble. 

Trying to call this bullshit something else just doesn’t wash, because the stink is there.

The Bard would probably say this:

Bullshit, by any other name, still stinks as badly.

Mundabor