Aaagggghhhh! I've been Poped to death!

Hello dear reader..... At least I think I have one. Anyway, today has been productive. Preparations are going well for a brave finish to our fearless author's semester of hell. Term paper topics chosen, reading lists being compiled, meetings being held. Oh, and Spanish being learned. Mustn't forget that one. All of which provides the backdrop upon which the drama of this blog is playing out. Which, is why today's entry is mostly rambling. It seems this philosopher has a limit to the amount of philosophy he can choose to digest in a given time period. And right now, much of my bandwidth is being eaten by the bandwidth hog, philosophy of language as taught by Dennis L. Bradshaw, Phd. So, if you want philosophy today, look elsewhere. If you want to hear me rattle on about how annoying it is when someone of inflated importance dies, then read on.

I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later. And now he's done it. Pope John Paul II (hereafter referred to as the JP), in a last great attempt to influence this non-believer has finally completely invaded my life posthumously. Everywhere I look, I can find nothing but pope. Kiss his ring ideed. Why does this man command the blind allegiance of neverending multitudes? The history of the Catholic Church is as bloody as it is long. Every kind of unspeakable evil known to man has been perpetrated by some member, past or present, of the institution JP was the head of. The beliefs held and propogated by this institution are responsible for the deaths of untold millions throughout history. It has systematically sought to destroy entire populations, alienate and persecute non-believers, and continues to spread itself like a disease. And when its leader dies, he is allowed to invade my life. News? What news? It's 24-hour popevision these days. Even my favorite websites feel that nothing else deserves prominent status. Why is it that this man who serves as the symbol of an institution that is the essence of organized crime treated as a hero? Just when I thought steroid use in baseball as investigated by Congress was the lowest of journalistic lows. Oh give me a home, where the sheep don't roam.