Matt Taibbi Tempted To Leak Catholics’ Fuel Secret
I feel sort of conflicted about publishing my “The Catholic Church is a Criminal Enterprise” piece on True/Slant the other day. Still, every time I feel the mustard bottle in my pocket, I’m reminded that there are some things that should be kept secret. Not much. Just a few. This one secret certainly is in my own personal top five, perhaps at number three.
It’s a good number three because I lost a lot of sleep when I learned about the Church’s secret fuel. But now when Bill Maher goes on one of his anti-religion tirades, I smirk because for so long, the “joke” was on me. I used to be like Bill in believing what I believed as truth. But like with anything, once you see behind the curtain…
Yeah, I should be nicer to myself. My “Criminal Enterprise” piece did sprout from an honest garden. I really did have those feelings once about the Catholic Church. Like any decent actor, I can recall and channel my emotions to great literary effect. It took years to refine this ability, and I should give myself more credit for the time I took to cultivate it.
But the piece nowhere near scratches the surface of reality. Five years ago, I went undercover as a priest to see how far I could act like a child molester before the Catholic authorities would jump. I never molested any children because I never had the chance to take it that far. Instead, I found something else, something that can be described as “X-men meets The DaVinci Code meets The Saint.”
Who knows? Maybe Bill Maher knows, too. He used to be Catholic; he does act viciously toward the Church AND carry around ketchup packets in his pocket, I’ve noticed. If I could bring it up with him, I would, but it would go against the vow I took. I say “vow,” but it’s more like an understanding. Because I “killed” a priest, I can’t talk about it in public, or the Church will reign sausages on me.
It was a complete accident, like a Three Stooges act that went completely wrong. As my guide (a priest) explained to me how the Church is encouraging the media to cover these child abuse stories in order to hide a much bigger secret, I ducked to avoid a huge flying sausage in a meat processing plant like the one right out of Upton Sinclair’s The Jungle. But the sausage hit my guide between the eyes, instantly killing him on the spot.
If I have to carry this bottle of yellow deli mustard in my pocket for another 500 years to keep the sausages away, I guess that’ll do, as silly as the whole “a sausage for a sausage” ethic is, which is really just saying “love your neighbor as yourself” but in a more negative way. Perhaps by then, the Church will reveal to the world that it has the cleanest, safest, most energy efficient alternative to fossil fuel known to man.
Okay, so it might not be the cleanest energy source, but it really is unbelievable how just one drop of cum from one of this cadre of mutant priests has enough energy to power metropolises like New York City for 2,000 years. And they’ve got barrels and barrels and barrels of the stuff under the altar at St. Peter’s Basilica waiting for someone to build the infrastructure to process and generate electricity. If only this religion could get itself organized!
I don’t know. Five hundred years is a long time. I might crack by then. I’m tempted to tell the big oil companies about the spooge fuel, risk the deadly “sausage fest” ending, and ignore global warming’s aftereffects because I’m tired of dealing with people who ask me why I carry mustard in my pocket. There are only so many more times I can explain how I love sausage, when in reality the mustard lets the Catholic authorities know that I’m untouchable, so to speak.
Why couldn’t the Church have flung spinach at me? Sausages are so fattening. Olive oil bottles are bigger though. Anyway, didn’t Archbishop Oscar Romero organize fruit and vegetable pickers, not sausage mill workers? Or was it César Chávez? I can’t ever remember. We Catholics all look alike. It might have been Michael Moore.
Your Blunt Instrument,
Matthew C. “Matt” Taibbi