Ash Wednesday was really triggering this year.
The parade of people still celebrating the rites of the Catholic Church astonished me. Everywhere I turned, there were smudged foreheads, often accompanied by beatific, seemingly superior smiles.
“What is up with all this pompous pretentiousness? Do you not know the stats of the children abused by your institution??”, I indignantly wondered.
“Its sure to be millions. Several million even!”
But then a thought, as they always seem to do, crept up on me. I didn’t really know the exact stats myself.
So, I dug in and, after a few hours, here’s what I discovered
Between 1950 – 2020, there were 330,000 confirmed cases of child sexual abuse committed by priests in the Catholic Church in the United States. Further investigating revealed that there have also been thousands of cases reported in other countries. Ireland, the UK, the Philippines, Germany, Australia, France (and others) have reported significant abuses. Some of those areas have actually confirmed over 4000 incidents throughout a period of years.
These numbers, of course, do not include the unreported and the claims denied upon “investigation”. There is nothing concrete about the decades before 1950 either..
But, I would hope that only those in deep denial would think there weren’t massive wrongdoings happening in the many decades before that starting off point.
So, if we assume that from 1880 to 1950 that there were also 330,000 cases and that from 1810 to 1880 that there were 333,000 more, that already puts us at a million.
But even if we keep our focus solely on the calculated facts – 330,000 cases, in of of themselves, should be more than enough for any truly humane person of faith to turn their back on the Catholic Church.
Lest we forget, all those cases involved lies and cover-ups from the church, They involved nuns walking in on their students being raped and doing nothing.
The fish rots from the head down and if you still believe that there is any sort of true shine in that festering crown, then you are just as culpable as those who have gone to their graves with the mark of pedophile upon them.
So, let’s all burn the Catholic Church to the ground!
That’s the kind of smoky stain that I could truly get behind.
That Moore makes those supporting contemporaries an often sympathetic and aggregable bunch is another of this film’s strengths. Even as she tries to strangle the few tremulous ambitions that Henry retains, actress Victoria Posey brings a soft vulnerability to Patsy, Lyle’s needy, traumatized mother. Moore, himself, brings a ray of fun and energy into the film’s world with his take on the flamboyant Jarvis Coker, a zany addict who ingratiates himself into Henry’s life after they meet at a support group.
It is perhaps any artist’s worst fear that their work will be forgotten as the decades spin in their unrestrained progression. Nicely, the folks at ReQueered Tales are focusing on re-releasing the important works of previous generations of queer horror and science fiction writers. Now these creative giants can be discovered and celebrated by a new millennium of readers.
Big Gay Horror Fan 