They demanded empathy because they had none.
Tengo Leche, Observations Editor (Tuesdays Only)
Tag Archives: Hypocrisy
Clown Show
Earlier this year at a Vatican near you, several soft-shoed monks overheard Pope Vapid Agonistes CLXXXIX talking with Father Orifice, his liaison with the Department of Cynical Ploys. That conversation has been faithfully transcribed below.
“Papa Agonistes, I’ve heard back from the trashmen -“
“Father Orifice, please, we call them trashpersons, now.”
“My apologies, Papa. I keep forgetting. The trashpersons aren’t interested in meeting with you for a photo op. They’re concerned about how that would look considering the scandals engulfing the Vatican.”
“Scandals? What scandals?”
“Well, now, these are their words. Not mine. So please don’t burn the messenger at the stake, but they said something about our dishonesty in covering up the rape of children by priests and our failure to address it forthrightly even now. Also, something about fraudulent activity within the Vatican bank. And, what else? Oh, yes, all the hypocrisy in dealing with LGBTQ matters. They talked a lot about hypocrisy in general. They thought a photo op would make them complicit.”
“This is so disappointing! That photo op was the perfect scheme to show the world that we’re really serious about pretending to take the trash out and clean this place up. What are we going to do?”
“I do have one idea, Papa. You know how everyone adores clowns?”
“Of course, and rightly so.”
“How they’re respected the world over?”
“Obviously. Their moral authority is as great as mine.”
“Here’s my idea . . .” Unfortunately, they turned a gold-gilded corner, and the silent monks could no longer hear their conversation, but two weeks later, while they were flagellating themselves, the monks did hear this.
“Papa, I have great news. America’s comedians have agreed to meet with you.”
“That’s wonderful. They’re not worried about complicity?”
“Not at all. They said whitewashing is what we do best. So, I’m thinking we can call the meeting a Conclave of Clowns. And then we’ll release a group picture of them fawning all over you, and underneath there’ll be a caption that reads: If we’re so corrupt and hypocritical, why do all these clowns love us?
Union Street
Let's go down to Union Street
where impoverished people meet
around barrels brimming with green despair.
They'll fidget nervously while we stare,
as each in turn dips a cup,
lifts to quivering lips and drinks it up.
On Union Street the barrels overflow
so we'll see many rounds before we go.
And as they drink themselves blind,
we'll walk through a door they'll never find.
Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief
Schlitz and a Pack of Luckies
Dennis Lehane’s Small Mercies is aptly titled. Mercy in South Boston is as rare as a Yankee fan. Though published in 2023, the story is set in 1974 during school desegregation. “It was very hot in Boston that summer, and it seldom rained.” The white “Southie” community is virulently opposed to school busing, which will send their children to a different high school in September. Gasoline has been poured on the racial tensions. I hope no one strikes a match.
Well, hope moved out of South Boston long ago, so the match gets struck. A high school boy, who is black, turns up dead in a Southie train station. On the same night a white high school girl goes missing. The girl’s name is Jules. Her mother is Mary Pat, a rage-filled Southie woman who is not afraid to break a punk’s nose. The boy’s name is Auggie Williamson. His mother works with Mary Pat. What are the chances these two events are related? Exactly.
In Southie “you’re either a fighter or a runner. And runners always run out of road.” Mary Pat is most certainly a fighter. When Jules doesn’t come home after 24 hours, Mary Pat knows going to the police is pointless. She goes to the Butler crew, a criminal gang that offers “protection” to the Southie neighborhood, instead. The Butler crew, however, isn’t all that interested in figuring out what happened to Jules. That’s when Mary Pat takes matters into her own hands, and absolutely everyone better watch out. There is “something both irretrievably broken and wholly unbreakable [living] at the core” of her. She’s the kind of vigilante who would make Clint Eastwood and Charles Bronson say hey, Mary Pat, you’re kinda freaking us out. Have you thought of anger management classes?
Lehane tells an engrossing, fast-paced story using a thesaurus devoid of pretty words. Vile racial epithets abound, but the brutal language is appropriate given the subject matter, time, and place. We aren’t reading about Disneyland. Southie is a small world, but it’s not a kids’ ride. “In Southie, most kids came out of the womb clutching a Schlitz and a pack of Luckies.”
While racial divisions are the paramount problem here, Lehane doesn’t ignore the economic divide. “We all know that the only law and the only god is money. If you have enough of it, you don’t have to suffer consequences and you don’t have to suffer for your ideals, you just foist them on someone else and feel good about the nobility of your intentions.” The private schools will remain segregated, as will the schools in the wealthy suburbs.
Hypocrisy and corruption are everywhere in Boston. Yet, somehow, Mary Pat believed Southie was exempt. “You know, we always say we stand for things here. We might not have much, but we have the neighborhood. We got a code. We watch out for one another . . . What a crock of shit.” When the truth finally smacks her in the face, Mary Pat hits back. Hard.
Gladiola Overdrive, Chief Editor
Cerebral Thoughts on Freedom of Speech
Some people say, “I don’t agree with the dumb-ass things you’re saying, but I’ll die for your right to say them.” Usually this is said with a smug smile and the firm belief they will never need to prove it. If they were called upon to do so, these glib liars would flee to the hills and hide in caves. Hopefully not the same cave I’ll be hiding in.
So let me be clear – I’m not willing to die so you can say dumb-ass things. I’m not even willing to die so I can say dumb-ass things. Which begs the question: should we stop saying dumb-ass things? Obviously, yes. You go first.
Tengo Leche, Cerebral Thoughts Editor
It Doesn’t Take Balls to Support Equal Rights. It Takes SurrenderWatch
To honor international women on International Women’s Day, buy a SurrenderWatch and go exercise!
We, here at SurrenderWatch (patent pending), love women! And on this particular day we support equal rights for international women. In fact, we think international women should have more equal rights than anyone. So go buy a SurrenderWatch and get some exercise. Then we’ll sell your biometric data, and everyone will be equal.
What’s that? You’re not sure women need rights? Fine by us. Now go buy a SurrenderWatch and get some exercise.
Wait, you actually hate women, except your mom? So do we! Just buy a SurrenderWatch and get some exercise! You’ll burn off some of that righteous anger and perhaps lose that third butt cheek. And I’ll get rich.
Titmouse Beak, CEO of Pungent Sound Technical College of Technology and Owner of Pungent Sound’s Only SurrenderWatch Store
The Club
I was at the club when a golf ball shaped minister said give him a second chance. Hear what he has to say. He makes more sense now that he's a CPA. Then a putting preacher proclaimed the good news: he went to Wharton and got an MBA. Hearing that, I dropped to my knees and prayed. And Jesus put aside peace in the Middle East to sanctify the deductions I should take. The truth depends, he chanted like a Gregorian, on how much the Emperor thinks you make. For you must render unto Caesar what is his but only confess what he already knows then set up a charity in the Caymans and watch as your blessings grow. I invited him for golf and a Bloody Mary or two. But isn't your club anti-Semitic, he asked. Jesus Christ, I laughed, you're not a Jew. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief
Hey, Dude, That SurrenderWatch Looks Awesome
In celebration of Unity & Justice Month (the only month where we come together and pretend to honor Unity and Justice), Mega has released its SurrenderWatch (patent pending). Sweet!
Does it tell the time? Of course it does, you moron. But it also tracks how much exercise you get. And in this month only, the more you exercise the faster you close the Unity & Justice Ring (trademark pending).
Oh, hey, this is wonderful! By simply wearing a SurrenderWatch, I will get healthier and in return for my patronage Mega will donate money to worthy causes that promote Unity and Justice, which are not vague platitudes at all!
Hold on, my friend. Who said anything about money? Let’s not sully all these puppy-dog feelings by bringing up money. No one has to pay anything (except you to buy a SurrenderWatch) to support Unity and Justice.
All you need to do is complete the exercise ring within the prescribed time every day. So get off the couch, walk to the kitchen, and microwave some pizza bagel bites. Simply by living healthier, you will promote Unity and Justice – and provide Mega with some useful biometrics, which it will sell for a massive profit.
So what are you waiting for? Do you hate Unity and Justice?
Titmouse Beak, CEO of Pungent Sound Technical College of Technology and Owner of Pungent Sound’s Only SurrenderWatch Store
What Are You Worried About, Darling?
O.K. You’ve produced a movie and it sucks. At an epic level. It’s the next Garfield. Rotten Tomatoes refuses to review it because there are not enough rotten tomatoes in the world to throw at it. What do you do?
Saffron: Are the two male leads super hot and androgynous? Producer: Of course. Saffron: Can you get them to spit on each other at a film festival? Producer: No. Saffron: Can you get them to pretend to spit on each other? Producer: No, only one of them will agree to that? Saffron: Can you just say they spit on each other? Producer: I can do that. Saffron: O.K. This is manageable. What about the female leads? Can they stop talking to each other and act really pissed off when they see each other? Producer: That started nine months ago. Saffron: Perfect! Things are looking up. Can you leak that to the press? Producer: Of course. Saffron: Did the director get romantically involved with one or more of the stars? Producer: Of course. Saffron: Excellent. Did they have so much sex it disrupted filming? Producer: Actually, there were several complaints about that. The director is several years older than her male lead. It made me uncomfortable. Saffron: Wait a minute! This is an older woman with a younger man? Producer: I'm afraid so. Saffron: Fantastic! You're golden. That is all anyone will talk about. Your movie is guaranteed to make a lot of money. Saffron Crow, Foreign Affairs Editor and Movie Consultant.
Mrs. Muzzle
By Monday morning, a furious Mrs. Muzzle pounced on Uncle's lap, took her petite paw and gave his smirking lips several wicked smacks. But he continued to talk as if he was used to that repeating a tedious tale about a dubious time when Smear the Queer was a Hunger Game the neighborhood kids would play. And everyone was proud and happy though no one was proud and gay. Problem people stayed silent otherwise they were gagged, and proper people spoke English with a Midwest accent - the same one Jesus had. Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief
Pungent Sound Journal of Pulp Poetry 