"Brandy, I did some terrible things, but I told my priest and now I don't have to tell you."
"Go on, my son! Go on hating yourself! Now you know what the readers of this #@&*! strip think about you!"
Funny stuff, Wanders!Otherwise, I am sooooo bored with this. Therefore . . . Meanwhile in Beautiful Italy, Dawn tells Harlan she's pregnant. Hilarity does not ensue.-- Scottie McW.
Wanders, I'm trying so hard not to laugh out loud at your secret message because I don't want my next door cubical neighbor to think I'm crazy.I was waiting for the priest to tell him that this is not a therapy session and to go see Dr. Sweater Vest to unload. Either that or the priest IS a therapist and there is a "Psychiatric Help 5 Cents" sign on the confessional. Either way, Tommy is such a buffoon. He doesn't need to go into a confessional to unload. Priests do the one on one thing now. Has KM ever been in a Catholic Church? Better still, has KM ever SEEN a Catholic Church? I guess she's offended everyone else, now it's Catholic's turn.
Wanders, your secret message made me laugh out loud. (And wouldn't it have been a hoot if the priest said, "Go on, my daughter"?@Regina Wolfe-Parks, you said it perfectly. This is not supposed to be a therapy session. It's for admitting one's sins, recognizing their effects, asking God for forgiveness, and resolving to do better. But this IS the Worthiverse, so maybe the guy on the other side of that screen is Dr. Sweater Vest Counselor, topping off the vest with a clerical collar.
Today's Boldface Haiku is titled"This Is Exactly Where Sister Marguerite Wanted All Of Us To Be Emotionally In 1967".Not...myself!Hate!Go on.
...and, I might add, I was only 8 at the time when Sr. Marguerite used to tell all of us Public School Children in catechism class how awful we were. As a former (and still recovering) Catholic, this might be the one area where KM could NOT offend me, just scare me.
I never comment, but I just have to say that I'm Catholic, and my parish has a fairly traditional confessional. It's not one of those hyper-traditionalist parishes, either. But if I tried to vent about my personal life in there, the priest would gripe me out and tell me to make an appointment.I've always suspected Mary Worth of going to one of those Episcopalian / Anglican churches where they do all the "Catholic extras." She probably belongs to the altar society. I could imagine a priest hearing "therapeutic confessions" at a place like that...Even if this is a Catholic church, we don't actually know that Tommy is Catholic, do we? He'd be the type to just wander in off the street and copy what he's seen on TV (he probably tried several parishes just to find a recognizable confessional).Last year I took my 9yo son to confession; after waiting two hours (!) we were close to the front, but then an old lady CUT IN LINE and took FOREVER, after which confession time was over. I wondered if she confessed to cutting in front of a 9yo boy who wanted to go to confession. I was going to say, maybe it was Mary Worth, but, upon reflection, if Mary Worth were Catholic, she would get there super early to be first in line, primly reading the latest issue of Magnificat while she waited.-- Raphael
Oh, please, Raphael, what would Mary Worth have to confess? Nope, she just shows up & the Priest confesses to her.
I'm still waiting for Tommy to confess an actual sin. I'm not sure self contempt qualifies.
Raphael at 9:44 a.m., I enjoyed your comment very much. I hope we hear from you in the future!Hmm, thinking about the old confession days back in the 20th century reminds me of how as a kid I had to go to confession with my mom and grandma monthly (the Saturday before the first Friday). Often there’d be an elderly person with hearing problems talking too loudly to the priest, so I worried that I’d actually hear her (it was almost always a woman) - yikes! In the up side, many of the old ladies spoke only Polish, so no worries for me!
As an also recovering Catholic, I am a sucker for any story of screwball Catholic institutional bureaucracy, so thanks, everybody! Only the Catholic Church could have turned something as personal as guilt and angst over one's own behavior into the numbing, ripe for parody ritual of Confession. My husband, a performance artist, has a portable confessional he found on the curb in front of a Catholic church one garbage day and has used it in many an art piece, probably one of the best uses for this odd artifact I can think of. I also love how Tommy's priest exhibits the voyeurism I often witnessed in confession when he says "Go on, my son", as in "let's get to the steamy details, kid!"
Wanders, I love the secret message! The Catholic churches I've attended in the past 20 years or so are a far cry from the stereotypes. It's not even called Confession anymore, it's Reconciliation. It's supposed to be positive and healing but is definitely not the therapy session Tommy is trying to make it be.
"My son?" Is iris in there with Zak?
Can we be absolutely sure it wasn’t Mary in the confessional, taking notes for her next gossip session with Toby?“Toby, and then Tommy was in prison in such a high security unit that he had a prison guard standing over him with a high-powered rifle while he scrubbed floors!”
All of the comments are stellar today. I am so happy to have other fellow Catholics to share stories with! Nance, as always you made with laugh with your Boldface Haiku title and your story about Sr. Marguerite. It brings me back to when I was in grade school. I have previously told the story about you "bad" public school children that would have catechism class on Wednesdays. The nuns would tell us to take anything of value home because the public school children were "thieves" and would steal your eye teeth if you let them. Then we were told we had to "pray for them" because their parents wouldn't let them go to Catholic school. as an eight year old, I use to think what sinners these kids were until I got older and realized that they were more fortunate than we ever were.Another childhood confession story. I dreaded going to confession because I had to go every week. The nuns would quiz you whether you went or not and if you didn't go, you would need (and I'm not joking) a note from your parents why you didn't go. The only thing that would get you out of going was death. (Yours or a member of you immediate family.) Anyway, I could never think of any sins, so I made up sins. My go-to sins were "I disobeyed my mother and father 3X and I lied 3X."(I liked three because it was always in the Bible.) So, I committed a sin to confess a sin. I should have cut down that lie to one, as I was lying in the confessional. Depending on the priest, I gt the standard 3 Mail Mary's and three Our Father's. If I got Fr. Sullivan (the priest I confessed about the hot dog) I got 10 of each.Anyway, back to Tommy: If I was Father Therapist, I would do one of two things: Yell at Tommy the way Fr. Sullivan did to me when I confessed to eating meat on Friday (see yesterday for that story) or be like Judge Judy, who says when people start telling her sad stories "I'm not interested in your sad stories. Take those to Dr. Phil."
Awesome secret message today, Wanders!
That's okay, Tommy. Everyone else hates you too.
Just have to say my mom went to Catholic school (although her family was not Catholic) and loved it! The nuns at her school were very nice and kind. She didn't become a Catholic, but to this day I can't say a single bad thing about the Catholic church without being very specific about what I'm critiquing.
Downpuppy:If Mary Worth were Catholic, she would go to confession (sorry, reconciliation) the first weekend of each month and make a very short, businesslike confession, because, unlike those other ladies who take up all his time, she knows Father is very busy. She would confess to having uncharitable thoughts about her neighbors, and perhaps to getting too busy to help them with her advice as much as she ought.-- Raphael
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