Kid of the Black Hole
06-08-2017, 09:12 PM
"Who should rid me of this meddlesome priest?"
Never much liked priests myself -- and Catholic upbringing means I met a few, although, unlike Voltaire I wasn't reared by Jesuits
(let that one sink in..)
Fitting at least that these charlatan mendicants only find their true standing in death. So who was Becket, our long lost new found after-Life of the Party?
Personally a maven of political theater, as a historical figure Becket serves primarily as a cipher for the tug of war between royal and ecclesiastical right. He donned a hair shirt (similar to ostentatiously going to rehab for sex and drug addiction in the modern day..but slightly more hypocritically contrite and way itchier) and high-handedly excommunicated anyone and everyone including the royal harlot (all edicts were downgraded by the Pope to stern "tsk, tsk's"). His other offenses were more insolent: confiscating/repatriating lands, sheltering secular criminals who had taken even minor vows, installing his own clerks in defiance of the King -- generally forsaking custom when it came to clerical deference to His Highness
You gotta give Tommy B credit for giving his liege lord a hard time..even if things did culminate with flight into pre-arranged exile in France wherein he lobbed even more excommunication sentences like symbolic parchment firebombs (about as effective as hurling used kleenexes across the Channel). Eventually the Pope brokered an uneasy and uncertain truce (the footing can be as treacherous as the schemers when it comes to these nasty power struggles)
Naturally the moral comes as an afterthought, once the King's (hench)men beat the Archbishop's brains out (literally, according to eyewitness account). And Becket was said to be his majesty's one-time best friend; even boarded and tutored Henry the Younger. The denouement arrives when Henry travels to Canterbury where he is whacked repeatedly by the Bishop's staff as penance (a figure of speech..I think. A certain Arouet might disagree). The killers meanwhile were ordered to join the Crusades.
In the end we learn that it is better to beg pardon than to beg leave..if you can get away with it.
The perfect social statement to act as the centerpiece for Chaucer's skewering of contemporary society 200 years later.
Meantime, in a BBC poll Becket was voted the worst Briton behind only Jack the Ripper -- and no one knows for sure that the latter is English.
If the first go-round was tragi-farce what does all of this bode for the present..and the future? First, we shouldn't expect bowed heads or bended knees from our fearless leaders unless one of them is about to be mounted by a Russian ladyboy (the best in world, says Putin without irony).
Second, and this part matters, History will scoff at their internecine battles and recoil with disgust at their insipid, repugnant existence.
Sandwiched between Becket and Chaucer is Dante who portentously tells us that the best way out is through.
Fuck 'em. 1170, 2017, doesn't matter. Fuck 'em one, fuck 'em all.
Never much liked priests myself -- and Catholic upbringing means I met a few, although, unlike Voltaire I wasn't reared by Jesuits
(let that one sink in..)
Fitting at least that these charlatan mendicants only find their true standing in death. So who was Becket, our long lost new found after-Life of the Party?
Personally a maven of political theater, as a historical figure Becket serves primarily as a cipher for the tug of war between royal and ecclesiastical right. He donned a hair shirt (similar to ostentatiously going to rehab for sex and drug addiction in the modern day..but slightly more hypocritically contrite and way itchier) and high-handedly excommunicated anyone and everyone including the royal harlot (all edicts were downgraded by the Pope to stern "tsk, tsk's"). His other offenses were more insolent: confiscating/repatriating lands, sheltering secular criminals who had taken even minor vows, installing his own clerks in defiance of the King -- generally forsaking custom when it came to clerical deference to His Highness
You gotta give Tommy B credit for giving his liege lord a hard time..even if things did culminate with flight into pre-arranged exile in France wherein he lobbed even more excommunication sentences like symbolic parchment firebombs (about as effective as hurling used kleenexes across the Channel). Eventually the Pope brokered an uneasy and uncertain truce (the footing can be as treacherous as the schemers when it comes to these nasty power struggles)
Naturally the moral comes as an afterthought, once the King's (hench)men beat the Archbishop's brains out (literally, according to eyewitness account). And Becket was said to be his majesty's one-time best friend; even boarded and tutored Henry the Younger. The denouement arrives when Henry travels to Canterbury where he is whacked repeatedly by the Bishop's staff as penance (a figure of speech..I think. A certain Arouet might disagree). The killers meanwhile were ordered to join the Crusades.
In the end we learn that it is better to beg pardon than to beg leave..if you can get away with it.
The perfect social statement to act as the centerpiece for Chaucer's skewering of contemporary society 200 years later.
Meantime, in a BBC poll Becket was voted the worst Briton behind only Jack the Ripper -- and no one knows for sure that the latter is English.
If the first go-round was tragi-farce what does all of this bode for the present..and the future? First, we shouldn't expect bowed heads or bended knees from our fearless leaders unless one of them is about to be mounted by a Russian ladyboy (the best in world, says Putin without irony).
Second, and this part matters, History will scoff at their internecine battles and recoil with disgust at their insipid, repugnant existence.
Sandwiched between Becket and Chaucer is Dante who portentously tells us that the best way out is through.
Fuck 'em. 1170, 2017, doesn't matter. Fuck 'em one, fuck 'em all.