This morning at Mass, Father Bill said some needlessly unpleasant things about Pope Benedict XVI's career as Cardinal Ratzinger, the Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Father alluded to a strong dislike for the Holy Father during his tenure as the enforcer of Church doctrine; he had hoped that another cardinal would be elected pope, but had thus far been encouraged by the actions His Holiness has taken as Benedict XVI. In the words of They Might Be Giants, I narrowed my eyes. Doubting Thomas played a prominent role in today's Gospel reading; so, Father Bill compared himself to St. Thomas, highlighting the nobility of asking questions. The comparison struck me as a bit arrogant. In any event, this will be a new experience for me. I've never disliked my parish priest before; so, now I'll get to see what that's like.

Hey, does anyone know the etymology of the word "soccer"? Obviously, football is football, not "American football," and what the world calls "football" is really soccer, but that still doesn't explain where the word soccer comes from. Anyone?

FSWE
Ugh, I hate the Biographic Information Questionnaire portion of the Foreign Service Written Exam. I understand that the FSWE is the first step of a job application process and that the Department of State needs to start evaluating our fitness as potential FSOs, but it is damned annoying being asked the same question four or five times with minimal rewording. How many times do you need to ask if a person has any leadership experience? Apparently quite a few. (Being editor-in-chief of The Newsletter doesn't really count, but I was Vice President of Animania and Business Manager of the Gargoyle.)

Speaking of the Gargoyle, after completing the FSWE yesterday I decided to reward myself with a delicious lunch at Red Hot Lovers. On my way out of Angell Hall, when the examination as administered, I had found a stray copy of the latest issue of the Gargoyle; I love the Gargoyle and I love Red Hot and it seemed a perfect alliance to read the one while dining in the other. As I ate my two Mighty Dogs and side o' fries, I encountered in the issue the words "Episode I sucked." I has been greatly enjoying myself up to that point, and had been pleased to find the Gargoyle was in good hands. Life is full of little disappointments. I stopped reading the issue immediately. As soon as I had finished my food and tasty beverage, I twisted the offending Gargoyle into a narrow cord, bend it at the middle, and jammed it into my now empty cup. It went into the garbage with my ketchup stained napkins, and may a pox be on the heads of those cuntrag editors, writers, and artists.

Preparations for "The Star Wars Issue" of The Newsletter are proceeding well and the staff seem very excited, as am I. This is going to be so fucking cool.