All right, rock on Tommy, it's Friday! Baxter might have moved a couple of inches to the left, Ivan's porking up more than somewhat, and by most accounts we should have been following the Lead Bull into the night at least two months ago. But no, looks like we're going to have to endure another cardinal error by the Church of Rome. You can't claim responsibility for a couple of "Meaningful Coincidences" on the internet, die of galloping leukemia at the age of fifteen and then five years later become a Saint without some sort of underhanded and untoward politicking. How did this happen? I'll tell you! 1983, a year that will live in infamy, and at the time I remember being asked to leave a bar for warning anyone who'd listen that this is exactly what would happen if Pope John Paul in a most thoughtless and uncaring manner demoted Saint Winifred, did away with the venerable full time position of Devil's Advocate and replaced it with someone who's given the washing powder title, Promoter of the Faith. Talk about playing a guitar in the Sistine Chapel to keep the youth out of the pinball arcades. The beautiful Saint Winfred is Welsh, she died in 660 AD, in her time she caused a great many genuine wells, she is the patron saint of virgins, martyrs, victims of abuse, incest, and unwanted advances, as well as healing and integrity, and frankly so what if in the course of her saintly career she might have bumped off a number of overly amorous princes and the odd price gouging grocer. We're all doomed!
