THE CARDINAL SINS OF PEOPLE LIKE PELL
Four-time Walkley Award winning political commentator and Churchill Fellow, has returned to the fray over concern that the integrity of news dissemination is continually being threatened by a partisan media.
It’s difficult listening to the endless line of shattered people who have suffered sexual abuse at the hands of the rulers of religious institutions. Incurable paedophiles have always been attracted to where young children are freely available but Cardinal Pell is more guilty than any of his flock of child molesters because he allowed this culture of sexual abuse to fester and continue unabated.
An abused child builds up the enormous courage necessary to expose what is happening to him and others, only to be told he is a liar. That’s the worst part, you are then condemned to handling a serious problem that a child has no ability to handle.
It took me ages to practise the words, to find a sentence that made sense, to explain what was happening, to sound convincing... only to be told by my mother to wash my mouth out with soap.
It’s devastating. But this religious “friend of the family”, Uncle Bert, was never successful, at least not with me. At eight years of age I was too smart and too strong, but many kids aren’t, and they become fodder for the brothers in Christ who hide behind the flowing gowns of people like Pell who then scamper off to hide in the bowels of the Vatican.
It’s funny how things work out, but for 65 years I have had a recurrent dream so real that I would awake in a sweat not having a clue what I was dreaming about. Then three months back I again awoke, this time with a vivid image of the dream.
It was that I had killed Uncle Bert (I’m unsure how) and wrapped him in a musty green blanket from his bed and stood him upright in his wardrobe. For 65 years I had returned regularly to the wardrobe to spray the body with air fresheners and insecticide.
That 65 year-old nightmare was that, if ever the body was discovered, no-one would believe me as to why I had killed him.
Since I only recently discovered what that recurring bad dream was all about, it has stopped. I did not regret killing him... my only fear was not being believed why.
And there sits Pell wallowing in his own excrement as “financial adviser” agreeing only to a video link back to the Commission when asked to explain the inexplicable.
It was he who disbelieved those poor children of Ballarat who built up the courage to explain to him what was going on.
I watched his earnest and private entreaty of the newly crowned Pope Francis knowing full well what he was asking: “Have you spoken to Pope Benedict yet? He promised me a permanent position in the Vatican Financial Office. I have dirtied my nappy back in Oz limiting payouts to grumbling adults accusing the Church of outrageous stuff.
“I have saved us squillions Frank, and now I need the protection of the Vatican as my position in Australia is untenable. I cannot return to current affairs cameras chasing me around every corner. That would damage the Church and soon this damned Commission will arrive in Ballarat and I’ll be publicly crucified.”
“No worries Georgie Porgie ol’ boy, Benny DID mention that. But we were debating as to whether we have an extradition treaty with Australia or not.”
“Oh, shit Frank, tell me that’s not true!”