YEAR-END FUND DRIVE: It's That Time Again....

Speaking of special collections....

So I've got a new favorite song. And, in so many ways, it speaks to my own spiritual life in these days. The band is Aberdeen City, the song: "God is Going to Get Sick of Me."

I can already hear the bishop-kickers of California, Massachusetts and everywhere in between trampling over each other to say in immediate, ideologically-driven reply, "Oh, Honey, God got sick of you a long time ago."

I appreciate the response -- because, as they make no bones about telling their unwashed fellow-Catholics, God speaks exclusively through them. (What's "Sing a New Church" in bad Latin?) However, despite my unworthiness, the Holy Spirit keeps giving me the inside track on His next moves in the administration of the church. And, over and over again, God's self-anointed spokespeople are left in some strange denial that Archbishop Levada can do what Archbishop Levada just did.

Hmmmm. Seems there's a communication problem there. Too much talking, not enough listening? You lot might wanna work on that....

While I honestly don't know what to make of it all -- feel free to tell me if I'm missing out -- what I do know is that I love what I do -- and hopefully it's as informative and fun for you to read as it is for me to compile, translate and decipher. As the great Frank Cushman said in Jerry Maguire, "I just want to play football." I know where he's coming from, because I just want to write -- and it doesn't hurt that, more often than not, I'm right.

But being right doesn't come cheap; divining where the Spirit will blow is international long distance, and it adds up. And to keep doing it, I need your help.

Know that I hate saying that, simply because I get very skittish when it comes to impinging on anyone's goodness; unlike your local Evangelo-Catholics, I'm not an adherent of the Gospel of Wealth by any stretch. Your Humble Narrator is such a bad businessman, and an even worse capitalist, but the ship does have to stay afloat somehow and, as opposed to most episcopal ordinations and installations, everyone is always invited to this party.

There's an old song from the '80s you might remember, it's called "Ain't Nothin' Goin' on But the Rent," and that's always so true here at Loggia House: The rent, and the bills, and the fact that I'd like to get something nice for my parents and sister for Christmas. (As they have to put up with me in the flesh, wouldn't you agree that they deserve it?)

So, as it always is, you'll find the Donation Bar on the right, tucked away below the archives. Again, I wish I didn't have to ask, but such is the nature of the beast and the time and effort I put into all this. (Not as easy as it looks, by any stretch.) And, like your annoying local PBS station, I'll be interrupting our regular programming to put up occasional reminders the rest of the week.

Next week, this blog will mark a year since it began with a readership of five. Never would I have imagined the widespread response, not to mention the amazing scoops and mind-blowing growth which've come my way -- and since the peanut gallery (comboxes) got axed, it's grown at an even quicker clip. It's a wonderfully special thrill to do this and to have met so many wonderful people so far. Know how grateful I am for all of it.

The other night, Bill O'Reilly was screaming about something (as he does), and he described his platform in this qualifier-rich statement: "This is the highest-rated, prime-time cable news program in the country."

Thanks to all of you for making Whispers the most widely-viewed, inside-baseball Catholic blog in the world. Please support the work so I can keep it going until there's nothing left to write about....

As if that day'll ever come.

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