ALL ABOUT THE LAY PULPIT

Saturday, January 17, 2015

There’s No “Biz” Like “Show Biz”

The SGG pastor, in his recent Bishop’s Corner installments, has been going all out to give his readers every disgusting detail possible about life at SGG – and we do mean disgusting.  First, there were his almost weekly reports about his pet cats’ latest bunny butchering – even including details about how one of them got sick on its putrefied remains and gagged it up.  Thank you, Dannie, for such vivid imagery; that’s really “top-drawer” stuff – and it makes for such pleasant dinner-time chitchat!  All we can say is “Yummy!”  So elegant!  So refined!  So uplifting! (Or is it upchucking?)  So, what luscious landscape could this “poetic prince of the honeyed phrase” paint for us next?  What sort of scrumptious vignette could he be conjuring up after that?  Well, actually, Dannie has already come up with two: first, a report about some raccoons colonizing the church premises (somewhere inside its walls); and second, a mouse -- camped out somewhere in a rectory refrigerator – rummaging through leftovers. Wow!  What pertinent stuff! And, again, “Yummy!”

What sort of idiot, we must ask, would knowingly and eagerly “share” such gruesome, boorish trash in his church bulletin -- and, via its website, beam it to a potentially global internet audience?  (If you guessed either Josef Mengele or The Marquis de Sade, you were “close, but no cigar.”)  And, for that matter, what sort of numbskull would name his three feral felines Puccini, Vivaldi, and Caravaggio?  (He probably figured that the culties would think it “cute” for him to name them so (“cute”? how about “gauche” or “pretentious”?). At any rate, it seems that Dannie has an insatiable (and not altogether wholesome) preoccupation with critters -- and their grisly foraging habits.

Nevertheless, one cannot deny that Dannie has a certain “way” – a certain “something” -- with animals: raccoons, cats, mice, grotto-pond carp – whatever!  (And don’t forget “Senex,” SGG’s one-time resident groundhog!)  One could think of him as the Cult Center’s “Doctor Doolittle.”  When he’s not waxing poetic about the weather (or his carnivorous raids south-of-the-border), he’s mooning over critters.  We think that this deserves some recognition.  In fact, we think Dannie could turn this critter fetish into a fund-raising opportunity.  SGG could, for instance, stage a production based on the original Doctor Doolittle movie (starring the late Rex Harrison – and, in a later remake, Eddie Murphy) – with Dannie and his critters in the starring roles. 

Dannie would be perfect for the part!  After all, with his mousy grin, he does have a certain rodent-like charm; and he does like to swoon on [nauseatingly so] about birds and other flora and fauna in his weekly Bishop’s Corner.  And one can just picture him, processing along the cloister walkway, with a daisy-chain of Waldtieren in tow (along with his groveling culties, happily singing Rex Harrison’s If I could Talk to the Animals -- in pontifical polyphony, of course).  In the movie, the animal-loving Doctor was asked if he “could talk Hippopotamus,” to which he replied, “Why Nottamus!”  Re-applying that (and other quips from the movie) to Dannie, one might continue, “Can you speak “Rhinoceros”?  Why, “of course-eros”!  Can you speak “Duck”?  (Well, we won’t touch that one!)

But “Doctor Doolittle” doesn’t quite “go far enough.”  It doesn’t quite capture the “real” Dannie.  Given his trademark rodent-like snicker, we thought that Doctor Door-mouse would be more à propos.  (After all, “Door-mouse” was Dannie’s moniker back in his seminary days.)  And back then, too, he could speak “Duck” (or a “rhymingly reasonable facsimile”).  In the production of this “Menagerie Masterpiece,” SGG’s budding Thespians could be “extras” in the show (unlike their usual role as  behind-the-scenes cult slaves for Dannie's "show").  [Of course, they’d get their usual ”wages”: nothing.]  The choir could double as Dannie’s “backup” singers [and we sincerely hope that they “drown him out,” because his voice is flatter than Russia’s steppes], and Tony could provide “instrumental” accompaniment on the organ.  All in all, it could be a very “cost effective” production – and who better than Dannie to put on a “show”?

As for animals, there are (of course) the cats (who should, however, be muzzled for the show, because clinging carrion makes for bad breath).  And the Palm Sunday donkey* could, no doubt, be borrowed for the occasion.  As for the Refrigerator Mouse® and the raccoons, we’re open to suggestions.  [Actually, raccoons are scavengers.  So, if Dannie could tie some “bunny leftovers” to the back of his robe, they’d probably follow him.  And the mouse?  He might take a liking to Dannie’s “cheesy” grin, and follow along too – if he’s still around, that is.**  As for other animals, there are plenty of deer (and a coyote or two) in the area.  And some of SGG’s “children of the corn” farm folk could volunteer their barnyard critters (including, perhaps, a goat, strategically placed behind Dannie).  All in all, it’s a “win-win” for everyone.

And how much to charge for admission?  Culties who are part of the “cast,” of course, would be admitted “free” (as would any kid of theirs who sold fifty or more tickets to “outsiders”).  And then there’s SGG’s “Cyber Outreach” program: the Web.  And as an added “incentive,” they could advertise that every “patron’s donation” (of $500 or more) would merit a free copy of Work of Human Hands.  (On second thought, scratch that idea; that might shut down the production!)  At any rate, let us hope that – once this “show” has had its run – Dannie will have gotten this “critter fetish” out of his system.

Okay – we know -- enough poking fun at Dannie and his “critter fetish” (and our whimsical idea of him staging a reprised production of Doctor Doolittle).  It was, of course, all done in jest.  But Dannie is NOT in jest.  NOTHING that he ever says or does is in jest.  His “waxing poetic” about his cats, his “cute” nicknames for them, his newsy little anecdotes about “refrigerator mice,” and the numberless “sweet nothings” that appear in his Bishop’s Corner every week: they’re all calculated, pre-meditated, and contrived -- all designed for maximum effect.  They are the veneer of innocence -- the “sheep’s clothing” -- that the West Chester Wolf dons to fool his sheep.  They are the “happy face” that he puts on for all who are fool enough to fall for it.  They’re all part of the make-up, the cosmetics -- the schtick -- that Dannie uses to put on what we’ve always referred to as “the show” – the caricature of Catholicism that this humbug impresario has been putting on ever since he’s been there.

Dannie’s demeanor back in his “door-mouse days” at Écône may not have been all that “exemplary,” but it was at least real (that is, compared to now).  And we wonder, since Dannie’s been “faking it” for so long, if he might be having trouble keeping reality and “persona” separated these days.  After all, that often happens when one lives “in character” for so long.  But not to worry: Dannie would never have a “relapse” or pull a “Freudian slip” in front of his culties (and even if he did, we wonder if they’d “catch on” anyway).  But the majority of people outside the cult circle have caught on to Dannie.  The SGG Clown Act no longer holds its trance over Traddieland – or anywhere else, for that matter.

But again, not to worry: retirement is nigh for both Dannie and Tony; and they probably have enough salted away to get them, if not to Santa Fe, to somewhere more cost-effective (yet adequate) -- perhaps south of the border, where Dannie can hold court with the campesinos who still revere him.  There, too, he might eventually write his memoirs.  (And if he wants them printed into another language, he can always count on Tony to mistranslate them for him.)  But don’t get too many copies printed up, Dannie; you know how long it took to work off the WHH inventory.  If you get stuck with too big of a publishing bill, that just might “set you off” -- which might bring out the “door-mouse” in you again!!
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* Dannie always has a live donkey for his Palm Sunday processions.

** At last report, the hole in the rectory refrigerator was plugged, thereby cutting off access to the goodies inside.  So, if Dannie is taking his impending trip down to Mexicali, we might have this ironic dichotomy, where he is down there, pigging out at a Rodizio, while Topo Gigio, back at the Cult Center, is “plugged” out, waiting in vain outside his “Rodentzio” (aka, the rectory fridge) for a meal that will never come.  Of course, Dannie’s reason for mentioning this little episode was probably the same as it always is: in giving the culties some newsy little anecdote like that, it makes himself appear “cute” (or at least innocuous) to them.

But Dannie usually has a deeper reason for saying something, other than just “looking cute.”  And to find that reason, first ask yourself this:  How does a refrigerator get a “hole” in it?  It’s a bit of a stretch to think that the mouse was able to gnaw his way through several layers of steel and plastic to produce that hole.  Even refrigerators that are old and rickety don’t get holes in them – at least, not from rodents.  If a mouse was able to gnaw its way through that refrigerator wall, then almost every refrigerator in every inner-city slum would have a hole in it.  Then, ask yourself this: Why would a rectory that is less than twenty years old – a rectory inhabited by priests, not a slum inhabited by welfare recipients – be infested with mice to the point where one is able to help himself to refrigerator leftovers?  It all sounds a little hokey to us, Dannie.


The real reason for Dannie mentioning that little episode was probably more “Freudian”: he was trying to give the impression that the fridge was in such bad shape that it needed to be replaced.  And, as Pistrina has already noted, was this a subtle hint for a new refrigerator?  And if so, who’d be expected to ante up the money for it – as an “extra sacrifice,” over and above ordinary parish expenses?  We think we could hazard a guess.

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