"The Evil You Deem Most Terrible..."

So there have been a couple news stories lately about the grand high bastard Archbishop of the Omaha Archdiocese, his Super-Duper Excellency Elden Curtiss. You know, the asshole who moved priests around in Montana and helped at least 30 kids get sexually abused there; the one who transferred at least one pedophile priest and one child pornographer priest around Omaha, then castigated the church employee who called him on it. The one who told the World Herald he sleeps beautifully at night; the one to whom the Catholic church is giving a $300K house in which to retire (hope to see you in the eye of needle, fucker). My brother had the singular pleasure of interviewing Curtiss, and I am glad it was Christopher and not me. My boys need their Daddy whole, strong and not in prison for life.

These news stories have brought me face to face again with events from my youth, and shocked me into recollections of darkness and of evil.

I'm not a believer in a supernatural overlord, but I have no problem raising my children to follow Jesus of Nazareth. I can believe, to a large degree, in the church of Oscar Romero or Desmond Tutu, or Mother Teresa or Maximillian Kolbe. The church of Ratzenberger the Nazi, though, the Vatican's Pit Bull, and of John Paul II, the CIA's pontiff, and of Bernard Law and Bishop Curtiss: This church fundamentally frightens me in a way I haven't felt since I was frozen with night terrors when I was a kid.

I fear. I fear. I fear.

I am afraid of a corporation that holds over 800 million in thrall and has for centuries aided and abetted the felony sexual abuse of children, me included. The boys start Catholic pre-school in about a year, give or take, and I am terrified of the potential harm that may be done to them by an organism that has shown every willingness to let the children suffer until they are caught red-handed. Sure, there are sick fucks everywhere; in every school and every park, but the Catholic church has repeatedly thumbed its nose at the law, blamed the media for its crimes, and thrown a middle finger to victims. It is fact that Elden Fuckhole Curtis transferred a known pedophile priest around Montana for years, resulting in damage to at least 30 kids. I don't want to make this about my experiences, but I know something about the hurt and injury that occurs when a kid has his doors broken down in that manner. I spent over 20 years in spiritual poverty I didn't recognize and that I finally realized, sort of, I did not deserve. I could not love, and it was just part of my identity that no one could possibly love me. It no longer defines me; I am stronger and better now; but you're never entirely free of it.

Thirty children in Montana and more in Omaha had swaths of their lives taken from them. I am not an empathetic person by nature, but I am almost incapacitated by the extremity of the rage and sorrow I feel for them, and for all victims of these fucking men of god and the fat bloated uncaring bastards who enable them. Thousands of children violated, and Ratzenberger has the malice, the cruelty, to blame the media for blowing it out of proportion. Curtiss told my brother he sleeps soundly at night, and the Catholic Organism, the Roman Spider, says fuck you to law and to victims and to Christ and REWARDS the Vatican's Pit Bull by appointing him pope. They say fuck you to the Montana and Omaha victims and REWARD Curtiss with a $300K retirement home.

So yeah, there are sick fucks everywhere, but I am, unbelievably, going to commend my children into the hands of a corporation that considers itself above earthly law or accountability, and that did everything in its power to hide the suffering and injury it inflicted upon its most vulnerable members.

I fear.

I fear that finding out after the fact (which is when you find out, if at all) would mean the damage to my sweet, precious, beautiful little boys would already be done. I don't want them to be condemned to the same miserable dirty cage that I inhabited for so many years. If they find faith or prayer, I want it to be whole and clean and strong. I want them to be overwhelmed by love and mystery, not amputated by knee-jerk cynicism and hate. I fear...

I fear what their father would do if they were harmed by that organism. I don't believe in forgiveness, for me or for anyone else, and should my children be harmed by the Catholic church, I swear upon my body, my life, and my love for my sons, I will not leave a temple stone standing from Rome to Nebraska. I have no love and no loyalty for these pretend followers of goodness: I will tear down their churches and drink their hearts' blood to the bottom.

I fear.

much peace

Relevant Poem by Thomas McGrath

After Tomasito's Departure

The sun still shines
And the moon moves on the waters.
In the heavy press of the heat,
The flowers and the citizens shrivel.
Everything in order for the summer solstice:

But the whole city empty -
Since you've been gone.

(McGrath, 1991)

much peace

Benediction to Max and Will (to be recited at nap and bedtimes)

I love you in the morning, in the afternoon and
at night.

I love you when I go to work, and when I come home.

I love you at breakfast, lunch and dinner.

I love you when the sun comes up, and in the dark
under the moon, and all the way to the stars.

(Copyright, 2009, Thomas J Burbach)

much peace