Okay. I’ve been resurrected from my Pope Francis stupor. Reality has set in. Yes. There were lots of men in dresses with purple sashes. And nuns serving as sister wives. I get it. It’s an anachronistic patriarchal cult. Anchor-pundits tried to narrate about what they had no clue, then were more swept away day by day. Even as a long lapsed Catholic, I still love the guy.
Then. Central Park Festival dovetails with Papal message. Bey. Ond. Say. First Lady Michelle. Bono. Malala. Back to Seattle’s Pearl Jam. Whoa. Tomorrow season finale of Ray Donovan. Best show.