Welcome 2012

Welcome to January 1st. In the “Land of the Long Weekend” this is the day to recover from the NYE parties and celebrations. It’s a day at the beach or home with a ‘Barby“.

The Church struggles to get a full house on this day  although there is a bonus when it falls on a Sunday as has happened this year. In good old Catholic Tradition this day was known as the Feast of the Circumcision of the Lord. Yes, it is the only Catholic feast for a medical procedure. As with all great Biblical accounts there is a picture gallery available on Google.

Circumcision gets some pretty good press in the Scriptures as a popular practice and metaphor. By the time you have worked through the Hebrew Scriptures and made your way to some of Paul’s letters you get to the most cutting of his statements:  “Beware of the cutters,”  (Ph.3:2).  So, there you have it, time to stop infant circumcision!! If Paul was around today he would probably join one of the Facebook pages against infant circumcision.

Thanks to this feast we also have a great new word for scrabble: prepuce.  The Holy Prepuce or the story of the foreskin relics is another contribution of Catholicism to the religious entertainment industry. It seems that we can also learn a bit from Michelangelo about this practice.

The United Nations Theme for 2012: The International Year of Cooperatives 

In Australia we will celebrate The National Year of Reading

And to sing in this New Year I suggest we can do nothing better than join the chorus of We Are the Many


2 Comments

  1. And while I have you (so to speak), splendid Tone, here’s an ‘Ode to a Sweet Pee’ that I composed to express my solidarity with your anti-circumcisionist sentiments:

    All scrubbed-up, masked and gloved
    He loads the wheel-ed trolley
    With shiny surgical steel
    Just a nip and tuck, quoth he
    I’ll do it in a jiffy

    A simple operation
    For manly men and boys
    And in different ways and means
    On women (mere toys?)
    For cleanliness or subjugation?
    None of your sissy susuration

    He reaches twixt the male child’s legs
    Stoops to check his sweet prepuce
    With glov-ed hands and scissored shears
    He plans his attack
    I fear

    I watch him as he
    Swabs the foreskin clean
    Strains to pull it back
    Retract and chop-it-off
    The sixth he’s done today

    The baby’s face contorts
    No primal scream can name
    The pain he feels, the loss sustained
    No Freudian explanation
    To quell his stifled consternation

    In years to come they’ll say
    We’re glad we had it done
    For reasons more cosmetic
    Than obviously prosthetic
    Its always been this way

    His prowess too is proven
    In withstanding STDs
    Proud, he’ll stand and show it off
    When he decides to pee
    And when sexually performing
    For all at large to see

    What warped religious fantasy
    Could do this to a child
    To divide him from a part of self
    To stop him being mild
    To strip him off his nature
    To intrude with knif-ed glove
    For reasons that his skin is wild
    All in the name of love?

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