THE "BISHOP'S (?)" BESTIARY, Chapter 2

Bestiaries, or Bestials. Books which had a great vogue between the 11th and 14th centuries, describing the supposed habits and peculiarities of animals both real and fabled, with much legendary lore and moral symbolism. Brewer's Dictionary of Phrase and Fable (Centenary Edition)

EDITOR'S NOTE: This is the second installment in the series inspired by a comment revealing that Dannie's "animal posts have a double meaning and almost always refer to people (i.e. whoever he has in his sights)." The information turned out to be a game changer for PL. Beforehand we used to think "One Hand's" ghoulish Sunday tales of battered baby bunnies and mutiliated mice — the gory handiwork of the cult masters' two familiars, Caravaggio and Puccini — were but exercises in morbid impropriety. We know better today, thanks to our correspondent.

Underneath the mayhem and cruelty, it seems Tradistan's "Uncle Ream Us" is working out self-referential, angst-wracked psychodramas starring the cult's adversaries. With a little decoding, we can discover what terrors are agitating his anguished soul.  Before we begin, however, let's briefly review the format: First we'll quote verbatim from a "Bishop's (?) Corner." Then we'll present our rewording preceded by a key to the cast of characters.

Today's first fiendish fable comes from Sexgesima Sunday 2017.

I suppose cats fit into the picture as well, at least from their point of view. Last Saturday before dinner Caravaggio presented Fr. Cekada with a big black field mouse, pre-dispatched but pretty much intact for Father’s delectation and eventual consumption. His cool reaction, however, nonplussed the pussycat. I had to coach Fr. Cekada in a properly grateful response to such a fine gift. 

Constructing a key for this stomach-turning episode proved a little more challenging than in the first installment of the series, because both the Cheeseball and His Excremency figure in the plot along with one of the bloodthirsty felines. At least the slain field mouse is easy: its mangled corpse plainly represents an opponent who's been gnawing hard away at Checkie's delirious self-image as a "scholar and theologian" (LOL).  Insofar as Dannie used the adjective "big," we think he means more than one foe — in this case, the enemy could well be Tony's highly competent nemeses Salza and Siscoe.

But whom does the murderous Caravaggio play in this macabre fantasy? And why would the beleaguered Erroneous Antonius be so ungrateful in the presence of "such a fine gift"? Our re-write has the answer:

Dannie's been unnerved by the success of S and S's brilliant takedowns of his blundering sidekick, Bonehead Tone. As he surveys the sparsely populated Tradistan he and the "Principal" wrecked in 2009, the Dirtbag grimly realizes there's nobody who can effectively come to Tony Baloney's defense with a rebuttal written in edited academic prose. The only response must be another embarrassingly amateur video from the tinsel-draped underground studio of Cekadawood. That means even if there's a legitimate point to be made, it won't be taken seriously by thoughtful Catholics. Therefore, His Wishfulness has been driven to imagining a deliverer. Taking into account Li'l Dan's Irish roots, in this particular narrative we'd say Caravaggio is a pooka, Celtic folklore's shape-changing companion of social outcasts, along the lines of Elwood P. Dowd's invisible 6' 3½" tall rabbit in the Jimmy Stewart movie Harvey. Only in this case, the creature is far from benign. More grounded in reality than "One Hand," the harrowed Cheeseburger senses there'll be no deliverance from attacks. He therefore dismisses the unsightly butchery as the unremarkable, typical predatory behavior common to all cats, whether feral or domesticated. Besides, Cheesy knows S and S are lions, not rodents like the Flushing Rat and his ilk. Still suffering under the delusion that his cat is a pooka, His Eccentricity manically insists on Tony's thanking the critter for relief from his far-better-educated tormentors. 

Our second perverse parable of the day was found in the Lent II 2017 "Corner":

The cats are working double shifts in the face of all this new life in their territory. Robins are courting, and last week I saw a couple getting to know each other on top of St. Michael the Archangel. I spied what looked like a baby skunk out on the lawn the other night. I hope Caravaggio didn’t see it. He’s a brave cat, but somewhat imprudent around skunks. 

"All this new life" refers to the negative online buzz about the cult.  The robins are the Gertie families who opted out of Dannie's Friday-nights-in-Lent colon-clogging confabs. Representing those few independent-minded Gerties who've raised a stink about the "clergy's" behavior is the baby skunk.* Reprising their usual rôles, the toms are playing the Gruesome Twosome. This time, though, "Killer" Caravaggio takes the part of Tony Baloney.

"One-Hand Dan's" territory has shrunk considerably since the 2009 $GG $chool $candal; as a result, he and the Checkmeister have to be vigilant so as not to lose more culties. In this vignette, the pair are particularly incensed at the families who flew off on Fridays to St. Michael the Archangel Parish's tasty Lenten fish fry in Sharonville, Ohio, thereby robbing the cult of windfall revenue. (Gerties were supposed to get "to know each other" at the decaying cult center on Fridays or on $ocial $unday, where the "clergy" could put the squeeze on for extra "alms.") Although these errant families may have dodged the cult masters' collection/indoctrination scheme for the time being, the Devious Duo marks who they are: They'll settle scores soon enough. Indeed they will, they will. While on patrol, Dannie gets wind of unhappy Gerties who've been badmouthing the ignorant cult "clergy" by passing along the criticisms posted on blogs. He knows the culprits aren't afraid of him or the Checkster either. If they leave $GG, they'll take more dirty Gerties with them. As participation in mind-control rallies sinks, Dannie cannot afford to lose any more prey. Like him, the cultlings are also mumbling about the absent enthusiasm and empty pews. With a shudder, Li'l Daniel recalls the many times over the years when the Cheeseball blunderingly opened his big, indiscreet, unschooled mouth and ran off scores of paying trads. Nail-biting Dan hopes Checkie's spies haven't told him yet about the trash talk: The last thing His Despondency needs is a another noseful of rebellion.

. . . . . . . . . .

That's the best we've got for these two animal stories. We're positive some of you out there can do a whole lot better. Just post your own reading in the comments section. Everybody wants a peek at Deacon Dan's anxieties.  The more there are, the sooner the cult will shut down.

*Have you noticed how Dannie's fables often feature baby animals that are either actual or potential victims of the marauding cats?  We dare say, it's a virtual Slaughter of the Innocents in the Animal Kingdom, what with all the targeted kits and bloodied nestlings. The fact that Dannie keeps on printing these grisly accounts says a lot about the Gertie gals. Among decent Christians, women, especially mothers, abhor the sicko brutality characteristic of males who've never grown up. As a rule, the distaff side's moral compasses often read truer than menfolk's, which frequently give false readings. In PL's community, the civilized moms and grannies would be outraged at children's exposure to this gleefully narrated carnage. And rightly so! Ask yourselves this, folks: Does the following observation really have a place in a church bulletin on Rosary Sunday (or on any Sunday for that matter)?

Fr. McKenna tells me he read that cats kill far more creatures than we realize (only 25% of the carcasses make it to the step), sometimes just for fun.

From the looks of it, Gertie gals must have the instincts of she-wolves, or else they would've put an end to Dan's Sabbath savagery long ago. Perhaps spawn of dysgenic cultlings lack the human sentiments of properly socialized middle- and upper-class children, who are emotionally attached to and protective of all the furry and feathered "dear creatures of God" (as our favorite whited sepulcher once dubbed a robin and two rabbits that crossed his path in 2015). That may explain why viewing animal-torture videos was tolerated as boys being boys. The hellicat females probably want their offspring to be chips off the ol' block.