Tag Archives: Sin

Morally Bankrupt

Everyone knows politicians are morally bankrupt, but what Maryland has done is an abomination. That state’s politicians recently passed a law removing the statute of limitations on civil child sex abuse claims. Now victims can sue their purported abusers decades after they were raped. Worse, these abusers include priests who only wanted to lay their hands on these children and prey.

This has left the Archdiocese of Baltimore with one moral choice. It must resort to chapter 11 of title 11 in the Eleventh Commandment, which states “Thou shalt file bankruptcy to absolve yourself of financial liability for your sins, but only after exhausting all other options, such as lying, obfuscating, delaying, and deflecting.” So we have been forced once again, as if a nine inch nail was being held to our head, to put another diocese into bankruptcy. It’s unfortunate, but it’s far better than confessing . . . or being held responsible for our actions. And we take great consolation in knowing it’s what God wants. Trust us.

Excuse me, Father Orifice? Actually, it’s pronounced Oreefeechee, but what is it my dear pathetic fool? Are you saying God expects us to trust the people who allowed our children to be raped and then lied, covered it up, moved the abusers around so the truth would be hard to prove? God wants that?

Praise the Lord! I was concerned you wouldn’t get it. Hell, yeah, that’s exactly what God wants. Sure, we brought rapists into your communities and families. Then we lied about it. Covered it up. We did do that. But we would never do something evil like hiding assets, undervaluing property, and cynically manipulating the bankruptcy laws to delay accountability for years, minimize claims, and hope that with the further passage of time, God willing, more victims, abusers, and witnesses will die thereby decreasing the amount we would ultimately need to pay, hopefully, with Bitcoin. Now that would be morally bankrupt.

Father Orifice, Chaplain of Pungent Sound Technical College of Technology

The Summer Adam Sandler Filmed “That’s My Boy” on Cape Cod

Jim!  Jiiimmm!  Is that Adam Sandlah?

Yes, yelled the bald Eagle Scout,
who in my youth told me once not to lie.

A pugnacious copper-toned Shar-pei pushing a walker
inchwormed as fast as she could to her dock on the bay.

Is that really Adam Sandlah?

Yes, the bronze-beaked Eagle replied
without ruffling a single feather.
Adam, what's wrong with you?
Wave to Mrs. Boucher.
Make an old woman feel special - 
though I questioned who wanted to feel special.

Preening is not a sin on Cape Cod,
not in the summertime, 
so I waved and wondered.

How could anyone believe Adam Sandler would be
on my dad's treacherous Boston Whaler - 
a boat famous for its mysterious brown stains,
mildewed cushions, and inattentive outboard?

Adam . . . Adam . . . Adam,
come over to my house for dinner.
I'll make a brisket.

Being a New Englander himself,
Adam knew how to crack the lobster-shelled heart
of every crab-faced Masshole in each sandbar town.
He tipped 100% for everything.

And Cape Cod rewarded him the only way it knew -
with tilting towers of maple walnut ice cream teetering on tiny cones
and overflowing cardboard cups of tepid chowder infiltrated by 
chunky potatoes and chewy clams.

Osterville's elders, a large, comfortable and opinionated lot,
adored him more than their own sons because they heard he was polite - 
that he loved and respected his mother.

All the sunburnt seniors had stories of how Adam had sought them out;
how he had gone away enlightened and grateful.

Dropping the name of someone you've never met
is a victimless crime on Cape Cod in the summertime -
similar to prominently placing a movie star's name
in the title of your poem in the orphaned
hope that now someone may read it.

By the way, Adam,
the brisket was delicious.
You would have loved it.

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief