28 September 2009
It struck me as I read another snide comment about the visit of the relics of one of my most beloved saints to this country, how utterly skewed society is.
If I -or anyone else for that matter- was going to New York to place candles on the spot where John Lennon was shot, no one would turn a hair.
If I made a pilgrimage to Gracelands dressed as Elvis, I might get a few peculiar looks, but people would in the main, I expect, indulge me.
If I wore sack cloth because Michael Jackson is no more, wailed in agony over the death of Diana while lobbing bunches of flowers at her coffin as it passed by, it wouldn't be considered that odd by the media.
But because people are turning out to be close to the relics of a nun who didn't make a bean, make a record, divorce anyone in the royal family, or do anything really except *be*, and try to find a path to God in the small hidden things, that's somehow medieval, lacking in psychological balance, or even just downright dodgy.
Funny old world, isn't it.