Thursday, December 8, 2016

We Are Driving the Pope Crazy

Sorry for the drive-by nature of this post, but the Bear would rather have the appearance that he is still alive as the benevolent dictator of the woodlands.

All Catholic ephemerists should take a month off. Here's why.

As the Francis pontificate seems to be coming apart like a cheap K-Mart suitcase, the Bear has realized that nobody cares about the Pope. The Bear repeats himself: NOBODY CARES. Except ephemerists, and their readers, who are obsessed. We get our heads into our ephemera, and read, what, ten a day?

I'm not saying what the Pope does is not important to the Church. But we magnify him and his impact, the Bear believes. There is a resistance gelling.

The interesting thing is that recent comments by Pope "Coprophagia" Francis and Spadaro revelations (see Mahound's Paradise in the links) is that the Vatican is afraid of us. That's right, the only people who really care about all of this are we ephemerists and our readers, and the Vatican. It is clear that we are landing body shots. The Pope of Rome is so worried about some Bear who sits in his room all day without any clothes on* pounding out dubious prose for a living, he allows himself to sound unhinged.

Meanwhile, he has his henchmen, like Spadaro, out with sock puppet Twitter accounts, which is really deceptive, and just tacky.

And the Bear himself has been checked out by someone from the Vatican City State. Something tells me that he's not a fan.

So, there is life beyond Francis, something the Bear had forgotten. And the cumulative effect of American ephemera, made possible by your generous donations of salmon, is getting to them. I know a few might miss their regular Bear, but folks, he just has to get this novel finished. He's close. He'll tease more choice bits for those who care.

So, when we resume normal programming, the Bear is going to have a new perspective and renewed energy.

*Easy there. He's a Bear. Clothing is optional for us.


  1. This is what happened. I was speaking with the Pope the other day and the Pope asked me, "And what is this Saint Corbian's Bear? Does he not like what a I teach?"

    And I responded, "Holy Father, not to sound vulgar, but does a Bear sh#t in the woods?"

    The next thing I know, I'm laying flat on my back after being struck by the Pope's staff. I was escorted out of Vatican City and told never to return. A day later, Pope Francis spoke about Coprophagia. I suppose you can blame me


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