Hark! The ping of an inbox draws the Anchoress away from the window and her early morning hairbrushing reverie:
Someone emailed me a moment ago wondering how long it would take for Kennedy’s death to be politicized – specifically by the left, specifically in order to push through the rapidly souring Obamacare, and wouldn’t that be a dreadful and classless thing?
‘Twould be dreadful and classless thing indeed, m’lady.
Kennedy’s death – outside of the coastal enclaves – will not have the drama and sentimental heft some might expect … It’s entirely possible that what Kennedy’s death will really do is bring into stark relief the fact that under Obamacare, this overweight 77 year-old man with liking for the drink would probably have faced treatment rationing and an offer for “physician aid-in-dying”.
Our protagonist shudders at such grim thoughts, and quickly turns her mind to spiritual matters as she takes up her brush and returns to her window.
There will be lots of people – both Catholic and non-Catholic – who will declare themselves “shocked and scandalized” that Kennedy would be given a Mass of Christian Burial. Some will declare that he should have been “thrown out of the church” a long time ago; others will insist that his Funeral Mass brings shame to us … Thankfully, God knows more, and sees more, than the rest of us…
A-ha, but not all of us.
What can one do when one is likely unfit for heaven, but possesses just enough charity and love to stave off hell? Let us suffer the purgation, then.
We shall take leave now of our protagonist, as she ponders her own transgressions, her hairbrush moving ever more furiously through her voluminous tresses while her mind drifts, as if a wraith of incense smoke, out the window and toward the bacchanalia of 1969.