For most of my life L’Osservatore Romano has been a sleepy Roman rag that arrived weeks after its publication date, printed in cheap ink that soiled the fingers of those who felt the need to read page after page of boilerplate remarks on the latest ambassador from anywhere shown in his tuxedo presenting diplomatic credentials. Aside, I suppose, from an occasionally interesting book review, L’OR has for decades carried nothing of serious interest that could not be found much more quickly in a half-dozen other venues, ones, moreover, that didn’t compel readers to wash their hands before handling anything beige or white.
But lately, L’OR has decided to become relevant. God help us.
Having just emerged, battered, but, I thought, moderately chastened after its embarrassingly naive and harmful editorial in praise of Pres. Obama, treats the world to a high-schoolish tributeL’OR to the highly talented and utterly pathetic entertainer Michael Jackson.
Jackson might not be fully responsible for the swirling chaos that was his life and death, but for L’OR even to mention his death - - without simultaneously urging Catholics to pray for his soul and the souls of all the faithful departed - - astounds me.