Sunday, July 27, 2008

P is for Pope, P is for Plastic

Having a Lebanese stepfather, descended from Catholics, of course I at the age of 9 became one. This lasted till 12 but can say I did get things out of it. Seeing how the church has changed in the half theater put on in Sydney (the first night drove the in-laws at whose place we stay when in town away, all the way to Bathurst). We went to one event cause there was supposed to be dancing, but none was happening. We did see a Jesus Store and a statue that was going to be auctioned later, painted in a fake aboriginal pointillism. An ambulance taking someone away. There was group yellings and wavings of red and white (how Masonic!) flags. A hippie tambourine at one point. We missed the passing of the Pope pass all the people who lined the streets to see him. But at 90 Km a hour, there was much disappointment we heard. All night yelling like at a football game. Obviously the church has regressed, not like what I was exposed to. It was cheap evangelism.
How come they don’t do this for the Dalai Lama?

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