Georgy Porgy, Puddin’ Pie

Kissed the Boys Dicks, And Made Then Cry

Well folks, that’s that isn’t it?

George Pell’s lawyer say he can’t fly, the Vatican doctor – a most impartial source of evidence and expert opinion, you must admit – says he’s at risk if he jumps on a plane (after all, they can crash you know), and that my friends, is that.

Or is it?

The Royal Commissioner doesn’t seem to think so.

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And therein lies the nub of the conundrum, and the real reason that Georgy Porgy doesn’t wish to return to the mother land.

The Consequences.

Arrest.

Detention.

Imprisonment.

The Good Lord wasn’t afraid Senor Pell. In fact he voluntarily rode into Jerusalem upon an ass – no, it wasn’t you, your sorry one was yet to be born at the time – and submitted to the injustice of a Roman State that he knew would land him nailed, speared and bleeding upon a cross on the crest of the crimson cliffs of Calvary.

Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s, and God’s what is God’s. Be not afraid, for the Lord is thy shepherd, and his rod and staff they comfort you. Goodness and mercy will follow you all of your days, for you have followed theirs, and you shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

But when he imagined the Lord’s house Christ wasn’t envisaging the Vatican, he was seeing heaven, a heaven where his suppressed brothers and sisters were free once more, and Caesars centurions were but a long distant bad dream.

Yet there you are Cardinal, whimpering in fear and hiding behind the neo-Roman walls, and though your evil flock of pedophile supporter’s cocks have crowed, you still continue to stand protected in the middle of the millieu and shout ‘Barabbas’.

Thus by your sins shall we know you, and know you we do Pontious Pell, all too goddamn well, although you stand so far, far away, on the other side of the sanctuary walls.

The first shall be last, and the last shall be first; and the third shall be third last, whichever was you want to look at it.

Remember that George, as suddenly the reading on the thermometer jumps 20 degrees and you break into a bedevilled pool of sweat.

Justice is a fast freight train coming.

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ha!

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