The pope
It’s 2023, and newspapers are still talking about Berlusconi, and about the pope too. Okay, let’s not even get into politics, that’s a matter of mafia. But they’re still talking about the POPE (complete with vestments) of the CATHOLIC CHURCH.
In 2023.
And we seriously want to say the Ligottian conspiracy doesn’t exist? We seriously want to say people are self-aware?
Because it’s not just old folks keeping those institutions alive, you know...
For many years, I told myself that religious allergy was just a phase for thirteen-year-olds, something you grow out of as you move on to other things and drop the dumb stuff. The problem is, the dumb stuff doesn’t go away, it stays right there.
Among the various celebrations of life and the collective illusion that induce vomiting, like pop music, religion is the worst, because it’s also surrounded by completely illogical and anachronistic madness that pop music doesn’t have: sure, stupid little love songs, but you can’t say they’re illogical or based on medieval superstitions.
So even if by 2023 one might be tired of people like Odifreddi, or of talking about these things, it’s undeniable that religion remains the blatant example, the number one example, of the modern man’s lack of self-awareness. And no matter how hard you try to ignore it, to focus on something else, every now and then you get some metaphorical punches to the face that really fucking hurt.