(Sydney Morning Herald)- THE Pope will send his first SMS today to thousands of World Youth Day pilgrims who have signed up to receive divine direction via technology.
Pope Benedict XVI will send a daily massage of inspiration to subscribers of Pope SMS, Telstra said.
Today's message, due to go out around 10am (AEST), will read: "Young friend, God and his people expect much from u because u have within you the Fathers supreme gift: the Spirit of Jesus - BXVI."
I love how Pope Palpatine's handlers forgot to to be hep and with-it, and spelled out the last "you".
This traveling Nuremberg Rally roadshow called World Youth Day has me grinding my teeth. My buses to work behaved this morning, but who knows what'll happen as the religious maniacs swarm the city over the next few days. Predicted numbers have dwindled faster than the flow of the Murray-Darling River System, but I still saw an irritating amount of glazed-eyed cultists stumbling about this morning. After about the fifth one blammed into me with its bright orange, cross-embossed WYD backpack, I took a moment to pull out my old bright pink Aussie-flag-design poofterpin and hitch it to the strap of my own bookbag, lest I be mistaken for one of these Scientologists infesting fair Sydney. Scientologists? Moonies? Something. They're in some sort of cult, with an infallible leader mumbling about something or other, and taking their money.
Pope Benedict XVI will send a daily massage of inspiration to subscribers of Pope SMS, Telstra said.
Today's message, due to go out around 10am (AEST), will read: "Young friend, God and his people expect much from u because u have within you the Fathers supreme gift: the Spirit of Jesus - BXVI."
I love how Pope Palpatine's handlers forgot to to be hep and with-it, and spelled out the last "you".
This traveling Nuremberg Rally roadshow called World Youth Day has me grinding my teeth. My buses to work behaved this morning, but who knows what'll happen as the religious maniacs swarm the city over the next few days. Predicted numbers have dwindled faster than the flow of the Murray-Darling River System, but I still saw an irritating amount of glazed-eyed cultists stumbling about this morning. After about the fifth one blammed into me with its bright orange, cross-embossed WYD backpack, I took a moment to pull out my old bright pink Aussie-flag-design poofterpin and hitch it to the strap of my own bookbag, lest I be mistaken for one of these Scientologists infesting fair Sydney. Scientologists? Moonies? Something. They're in some sort of cult, with an infallible leader mumbling about something or other, and taking their money.

*Yes, Jeff Corwin can be your emissary to God of choice.
I still plan to someday turn the whole affair into a highly fictionalised & exaggerated slapstick novel or play of some sort.
Actually, I was incredibly offended yesterday, listening to the journalistic toddler pool that is JJJ's "Hack" program. Here was some God-botherer rabbiting on about how he got along better with Muslims than Atheists, because at least Muslims believed in something, whereas Atheists are just materialistic and have this great emptiness in their lives.
Fair dinkum, if I'd been there, I'd have snotted the arrogant little prick.