Now that the Pope has been paroled, I am ready to hear his confession, especially if his sin involves his red Prada shoes. I bet Jesus would have looked great in red Prada shoes—“What the well dressed messiahs are wearing…”
It makes you wonder what the crucifix would have looked like if Gucci had designed that little loin cloth that they always depict Jesus wearing.
Anyway, the fun part about hearing a confession is assigning penance, and I don’t think Emeritus is going to like his.
The first time I went to confession, I was about six years old. You’re not supposed to have your first confession until you’re seven years old, but I was visiting an aunt who figured, “If I’m going to confession, you’re going too.” She must have spotted the darkness in my soul.
So I went into the confession booth, and I didn’t know the routine, and the priest yelled at me because I told him I hadn’t committed any sins. “You didn’t commit any sins?” He said I was wasting his time. “Don’t come back until you’ve sinned!”
If I’d known I was going to confession, I would have prepared better. Maybe I could have stolen some candy or told one of my teachers to fuck off. Maybe I should have told the priest to fuck off so I’d have a good sin to confess for my “official” first confession.
Anyway, he gave me a penance, even though I hadn’t done anything. “Say four Hail Marys and two Our Fathers.” Yea, I’ll rattle those right off, Padre.
When I was a kid, the sin I usually came up with when I went to confession was that I was disobedient to my parents. Not really a sin in my book, but it kept the priest happy. They loved this one. It was one of the Commandments.
The Ten Commandments came in handy if you couldn’t think of anything to say in confession. “Yea, this week I was coveting my neighbor’s wife and his daughter.” That second part always confused the priest, because technically, it really wasn’t part of the Commandment. But I think it’s implied. Because I think the Commandments assume you’re married and you shouldn’t be looking at anybody—unless your wife is a hundred years old and you want a kid; then you can have sex with your maid.
You have to read the Ten Commandments in context. “Obey thy father and mother.” Who wrote that? A father. Nice try.
Moses was like the David Letterman of his day: “From the home office on Mount Sinai, I am now holding in my hand the top ten list of things though shalt not do. Ladies and gentlemen, these are things though shall not do.”
What is a sin? Somebody else’s idea of what you shouldn’t do? Is it just a way to try to implement institutional control? Like comedy, sin is subjective, especially if you’re the Pope. “Well, it’s not a sin if I do it.” This is why I’d make a good Pope. Sin involves judgment, and isn’t that a sin? Stupid Pope. Stupid Catholic Church.
Now that the Pope is no longer Pope, that means he’s no longer infallible, which leaves only me. Don’t forget to vote for James Tripp for Pope. And hey, if I win—Pope Party!