Yesterday, the Pope’s announcement that he would be resigning and there will be a new Pope by Easter shocked the world.
I listened to a lot of coverage about it on NPR.
Usually the Pope serves until he dies, and then the Cardinals gather and vote in a new Pope in a piece of superfluous theater called Conclave.
The overwhelming responses from religion professors and notable names who might understand conclave, the history of the catholic church, the significance of a pope not resigning since the 15th century and all that spoke to the idea that maybe old, senile men shouldn’t lead after a certain age anyway.
There was one psychologist who talked about the steady decline in mental and physical fortitude as men grow older, and perhaps the mental gymnastics it takes to lead the world’s Catholic population as well as pave the road to convince everyone they aren’t a bumbling lot of kiddie fondlers with a penchant for dressing up in women’s clothing is tougher than we all imagined.
So now we need a new pope, and surprisingly enough, there are no Muslims, Protestants, Jews or Zoroastrians in line for the papacy.
But it was that discussion of age and leadership that kept striking me.
The “they” are questioning whether it’s valuable or viable to have 85 year olds as leaders. Pope Benedict isn’t able to keep up with the jet-setter lifestyle.
Science shows us that we can’t depend on our bodies to keep up with all we want to do. Age has a way of shutting that whole thing down.
Tina and I are not fertile. I hope that didn’t come as a shock.
It’s a great thing to say to someone after they say, “Oh, you’re married? How many kids do you have?”
A dry “None. We’re infertile” is about as good as any fireworks display you’ve ever seen.
People trip on their words or say, “Oh, there’s still time.” And, “Maybe you can adopt …”
There’s no appropriate response to “We’re infertile”, which is why I like to say it.
But science gives proper explanation for this phenomenon (if you will). We’re a bit older, and the success rate for biological birth drops with age. Tina’s passed 40, and eggs –despite being available — become harder and less penetrable by sperm. Apparently my sperm are 75% idiots, with a lot of deformities and handicaps. Six tails, three heads. That kind of thing.
Even if we were to land a successful pregnancy, the chances are increased by a zillion percent that the baby might not be healthy.
Why am I talking about our infertility?
Well, I’ll tell you. I’ll tell you in a round about way.
Have you ever met a 600-year-old man?
Have you ever met a 100-year old man? Maybe you have. Maybe you haven’t. Have you ever met his 100-year-old wife?
Have you ever met their children? I’m not talking their 80-year-old children, I’m talking their babies. Have you ever walked in on a 100-year-old woman breast feeding her baby? Have you ever dropped by a porn site and curiously clicked on the “Retirement Romps” link?
You haven’t? You should try it. It’s super hot.
Let’s think for a second about where some people think the entire population of the entire world came from. The bible says that Noah was 600 years old when he built the ark and sailed the flooded waters blue.
His children were also with him. And after YHWH destroyed EVERYONE who had ever lived … that’s to say … everyone who came from Adam and Eve to that point in human history, God then commanded Noah and his sons to repopulate the Earth.
Given proper understanding of science, Noah was 600, which makes his sons in their 500s.
A 500-year-old, should he or she exist, would probably be lying in a pool of their own shit and piss hoping for an apple to fall from a near by tree and land directly inside his mouth already turned into applesauce for easy swallowing.
If my wife’s eggs are shriveled raisins and my sperm is composed of colonies of deformed idiots, how in natural terms should I accept the Noah story?
When people say we all came from Adam and Eve and their incestuous foray of freaking sex with each others brothers and sisters, they really mean that the incest came from Noah and his three sons and their wives.
Not one foray into incestuous sex, which science shows produces random mutations, but two.
Not to mention, Noah’s son’s wives had 550-year-old eggs to deal with (if in fact we’re to accept that menopause didn’t render their sexual organs a whithery ghost town.
I know, I know. The bible-times were different. They were magically enriched with God’s loving hand — who on Friday slaughtered all of his beautiful people — and a month later told 600 year old people to mount up and make babies.
Then he told those babies to have sex with their brothers, sisters, cousins and parents.
Because nothing says marriage is sacred like pointing to a book that claims there is fertile sex between 600 year old couples.
And this, dear readers, is why I don’t understand how one of you, not one, looks at any of the bible with any sort of respect or admiration.
Forget that the ark was full of two of every animal. Forget that all people, women, children, brothers and sisters were executed at God’s hand in painful drowning, because of the idea that they didn’t love God enough.
Forget all that. They were evil.
Just think about a 600 year old man, fondling his 600-year old wife’s breast and stroking her wrinkly ass. Think about their wild sex. That hard 600-year-old penis inserted into that soft wet 600-year-old vagina … over and over and over … and orgasmic bliss is reached without a broken hip or a narcoleptic seizure. Or heart failure.
And Noah and his wife lay on their blanket smoking a hookah, when Mrs. Noah reaches over, grapples Noah’s penis and whispers, “Again.”
So while all this theater and hootenanny is at the forefront of the news discussion, every hour for the next couple days, remind yourself that the Pope, in his bedazzled hat and scepter surrounded by the most opulence you’ve ever experienced, base their entire lives on a book that says you, me, them, us, Muslims, Jews, Africans, Indians, Indonesians and South Americans, were all the result of eight horny 600 year olds.
And that you should believe it. And care.
And that is why there’s a conclave.
Thank you very much.