Chúa ki-tô đã phục sinh!
Fr. Z. posted the following image a few weeks ago. It may be the most (darkly) amusing news blurb that I have ever seen:
The article reads:
“A 25-year-old man who ate his hunting partner’s dog after it was killed in a monkey attack was shot dead by the canine’s owner with a crossbow last Tuesday. Police said the suspect and the victim were friends who were hunting together in Kratie’s Snuol district. It is understood the suspect shot his friend because he would not help save his dog from being killed in a monkey attack. The victim then took the dead dog home to eat. When the suspect saw this, he fired his crossbow at his friend killing him instantly. Police say the suspect confessed to the crime following his arrest. The monkey has not been caught.”
Scott Hollifield of McDowell News has a humorous take on the fascinating story: “Monkey? Dog? Crossbow? That’s front-page material.” We should not laugh at crime or death, but stories like this are so bizarre and morbidly funny that I cannot help myself.
Christus ist auferstanden!
Some time ago, I read a charming story in the Daily Mail about a German fellow who built an elaborate model airport: “Honey, I shrunk the Flughafen: German builds world’s largest model airport.” You may watch the attached video dieses Flughafens.
Some folks criticize such endeavors as wastes of time and the people behind them as freaks or losers. I do not share that sentiment. Rather, I see human existence justified in every eccentric man’s quest for something noble, beautiful, or excellent, even in miniature.
Tá Críost éirithe!
Arimathea ends Latin week with an old joke that features a loveably asinine Irish priest:
Father O’Malley, an Irish Catholic priest, was transferred to a Texas parish.
Father O’Malley rose from his bed one lovely morning. It was a fine spring day. He walked to the window of his bedroom to get a deep breath of the sweet morning air.
It was then that the good man noticed a jackass—lying dead—in the middle of the rectory’s front lawn.
He promptly called the local police station. The conversation went like this:
‘‘Good morning. This is Sergeant Jones. How might I help you?’‘
‘‘And the best of the day te yerself. This is Father O’Malley at Saint Ann’s Catholic Church. There’s a jackass lying dead on me front lawn.”
Sergeant Jones, considering himself to be quite a wit, replied with a smirk, ‘‘Well, now, Father O’Malley, it has always been my impression that you people took care of the last rites.’‘
There was dead silence on the line for but a moment.
Father O’Malley then replied, “Aye, ‘tis certainly true, my dear Sergeant Jones, but we are also obliged to notify the next of kin.”
Cristo è risorto!
Lutheran Satire made an amusing “game show” after Pope Benedict XVI announced his retirement in February. It offers a fine commentary on the armies of “devout Catholics” whom the media always consult when covering matters Roman.
If only she had claimed infallible authority because, well, you know, like, she totally knows everything about the faith because she, like, you know, went to Catholic schools for thirteen years.
Kristus er opstanden!
No, not lego papam, but Lego pope!
Behold Pope Francis, the Danish version: “We Have a Pope! :: Lego Edition” at Shower of Roses.
Cristo ha resucitado!
Latin week continues on Arimathea with some posts concerning the papal election. A few days before Pope Francis was elected, someone tweeted (twit?):
If a Jesuit was elected pope, we would finally have one loyal to the pope.
Shouldn’t it have been, “If a Jesuit were elected pope . . .”? Anyway, it was funny and prescient—though the young guys, S.J., seem to be alright. Nonetheless, allow me to indulge in some Jesuit schoolboy humor:
Si tu cum Jesuitis,
Non cum Jesu itis.
For more Jesuit jokes, go to Catholic Resources. I learnt most of them as a young man.
Hristos a înviat!
A few months ago, Steve Sailer introduced MicroAgressions to the rightosphere: “Best of MicroAggressions.com.” It is a site that posts discontent individuals’ experiences with “microaggressions.” Microaggressions are the minor annoyances that you regularly encounter in a world populated by human beings whose existential focus is not you and whose ideas do not perfectly match your own. For normal people, this is what we call life. For the morally greedy, self-righteous Left, which craves offense like a junkie lusts after crack, microaggressions are the best for which one can hope in a world already conquered by one’s crazy, pussified ideology.
I sent the site’s link to my friend Andrew, who wished to add his own microaggression after his typical manner: “I try to be tolerant of others and to be mature about letting the little things slide. But then I saw a web site today that suggested I wasn’t capable of this. It encouraged me to obsess immaturely on every tiny grievance and to condemn the attitudes and beliefs of others intolerantly. Do they really think I’m that dysfunctional?”