Winging my way to meet Cardinal V. at his island retreat. Was I better off in jail? At least there I could think the thoughts of a free man: you know: sports food women world peace. Now it'll be 24/7 immaculate grace of the incipient kingdom of God intermingled with the Cardinal's naive and fantastic business plans. Disposable habits for the Nuns, self-blessing wine, plans to market dispensations on Wall Street and to the N.B.A.. Telemarketing Jesus- press 2 if you love the lord. But the food will be good; and he is my oldest friend having saved me, when as a young altarboy I faced a fate worse- or at least more prolonged- than death.

Why is it the Vatican insists on flying propjets?

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