The world tour of the digital replica of the Arch of Palmyra, Syria (Arch of Triumph) made its arrival in Washington D.C. on September 26, 2018. Bypassing a plethora of five-star performance venues, the arch was erected in the middle of the National Mall, with the Washington Monument behind it and the Capital Dome in its crosshairs. In antiquity, this Arch was the entrance to the Temple of Baal. Until Elijah’s drive-by hit on Baal’s boyz’, this god was considered the greatest deity in the post antediluvian world, to whom the religious devotes sacrificed their children in ‘confirmation’ of their pact, ensuring pleasant providence for those yet to be fed to the fires.
The popular Catholic mantra, “ordained or permitted” discourages one from attempting to explore the realms of coincidence and chance. But the unwashed oddsmakers are still hiccupping all over themselves after realizing that on the very next day, September 27th, the shoo-in Judge Kavanaugh, Dr. Blasey-Ford and the Editors of America Magazine – The Jesuit Review, in unison hit the wall with a splat. What are the odds?
By the time the Arch was dismantled and placed back in its case on September 30, 2018, the Jesuit educated wunderkind’s family had been destroyed by unfettered, weaponized outrage. The first accuser’s “Go Fund Me” account was four times the asking and counting; Flake had ignited a firestorm and Spartacus had stormed from the building. The FBI was on the prowl seeking criminal indictments and the Katzenjammer Kids, often confused with the Senate Judiciary Committee, were only gaining a vague awareness that they were being watched by every third-world country who were salivating over the farce and tomfoolery that had become America. One could all but hear them chanting in unison, “we have arrived!”
The Jesuit Review
After carefully weighing the evidence in the wake of a televised phenomenon that blacked out the likes of Palus’ thirty-foot killer tsunami, the editors of the esteemed Jesuit Review, America Magazine, were able to provide their studied conclusions on the same day of the massacre. In their gilded sophistry the editors arrived at the nut of the matter, and so stated;
“Judge Kavanaugh continues to enjoy a legal presumption of innocence, but the standard for a nominee to the Supreme Court is far higher; there is no presumption of confirmability. The best of the bad resolutions available in this dilemma is for Judge Kavanaugh’s nomination to be withdrawn.”
In Triple Crown parlance, this is to say that even though Kavanaugh won the Preakness and Belmont, we’ve taken the decision to put him down as a precautionary measure to ensure that fate does not intervene in matters of turf again.
Such a swift cauterizing declaration from the Pope’s own Society of Jesus seems a clarion call even louder than the sea scorched earth of Palu, were that possible. The magazine formally withdrew their endorsement of the Judge’s candidacy at the same time the receding waters of Palu, Indonesia were revealing its own dead. The underlying logic espoused in such a statement all but scours any hint of religiosity, leaving only the metallic voice of sanctimony to harmonize with some ill wind that appears to be driving the people before it.
Long before the amendment criminalizing a person’s right to shout “fire” in a theater, the Native American’s of Eastern Montana had used this ploy to whip up the winds of panic, as routinely as does a Senate hearing; a ploy that even earned it a geographical pin by the name of “Buffalo Jump.” It is a cliff-rimmed escarpment on which the Natives had learned that if they simply stampeded the lead element of a buffalo herd the rest would blindly follow, en mass, over the cliff to the women waiting below with their carving knives. Its applicability in this modern day may be viewed to include some elements of the church which were attempting to front run the merest whiff of scandal in a government tooled for same; not to mention the footloose placarded voices of the frenzied, who themselves were seeking success in a place to go splat.
Even should Judge Kavanaugh reappear from under the bus he was thrown, to “enjoy legal presumption,” the fruits of his lifetime efforts will taste of a man without a religion and a calendar in which only he can believe. At the end of the tour’s layover, Baal made a courtesy call to the editorial staff, offering to barbecue anyone about whom they might still be harboring lingering doubts, as to his or her “confirmability.” Offended by such a presumption the offer was declined out of hand. With great diplomacy and a cleverly crafted admonishment, they offered in return the assurance that they are more than capable of eating their own. What are the odds?
By Scott Wiley