to be a nameless ghoul

You know that the fog is here, omnipresent
When the diseases sees no cure
You know that the fog is here, omnipresent
When the intents remain obscure

From Ghost’s “Secular Haze,” the song sliding around in my brainpan.

I read an article on transubstantiation (I’m not linking to it. If you want to know more about transubstantiation you can google it). Transubstantiation is the Catholic doctrine that the cracker and wine consumed in their church service is really Jesus Christ.

Many if not most protestants look at their bread (or crackers) and wine (often grape juice) thing as a metaphor (a weird metaphor for a fucked up creepy belief). But the transubstantilicious Catholic Eucharist is seen as a miracle wherein the priest transforms food items into something spectral, spiritual, or otherworldly by saying magic words over them, I shit you not. In fact there have been instances of intrepid blasphemers desecrating communion wafers resulting in Catholics losing their minds and acting as if an actual person had been kidnapped and threatened.

Reading the article I was overcome with embarrassment. It was like listening to a screed about space alien backed lizard beings who run the one world shadow government, or telepathic communist sasquatches that infiltrated the NSA and spy on all the good people for their own strange paranormal Pacific Northwestern ends. Add to that a sensation akin to watching your mojito soaked aunt rip off her dress and dance in her less than new underthings to Joy Division’s “She’s Lost Control” at your cousin’s wedding reception. That should about capture it.

Reading an article by someone who could apparently put words together to form sentences and used that skill to advance complete insanity was surreal. An attempt to explain something like transubstantiation with any kind of seriousness results in one looking as if they were clothed in nothing but bloody squid parts and a rainbow wig. Theology is fucking nuts.


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