Have I edited this? Yes, I have. Because I can.
Anyone who has read 'The DaVinci Code' knows that religious art is teeming with secret symbols and messages; truths only meant to be divined by the initiate; truths consciously withheld from the greater part of mankind by a jealous Papacy and the universal, unswerving complicity of Catholicisms' innumerable adherents. Secret, secret truths. Which are secret.
While I was still too small to give my consent my initiation into the rites of the Roman Church began. Each new year built new levels of esoteric knowledge onto that primary foundation, each stage of indoctrination capped off by rites, obeisances and cryptic oaths administered by black clad virginal acolytes of the inner circle.
By the time I had reached adulthood I was ready to go forth and fulfill my role in the Popes great army of world domination.
My orders: Seize control.
My rank: Uterus.
I have come to the conclusion that to continue to hide these secret teachings from the rest of mankind is to do my fellow man a grave disservice. Therefore let me begin by revealing a despicable incident known as The Suppression of J. M. Barrie:
...'We simply do not see the Blessed Mother battling pirates' says Rome.
The first version of 'Peter Pan' was banned by Pope Pius X.
Oh yes....our obedience was never taken for granted. Here is a surveillance device familiar in all Catholic homes:
The Disaproving Icon.
The saints are ALWAYS very, very disappointed in you."
The tentacles of the Pope remain a strong yet invisible presence in modern popular culture. Here is the proposed cover art for 'Hallelujia Kid Hitz volume 14' featuring Sir Mix A Lot:
"...I like big butts but I can't deny...that horse is gonna smush that guy!"
Oh yes. The Church is 'Down' with the 'Street'.
The true message of many paintings has long been a subject of debate among scholars. Know them now.
The flying babies failing to arouse St. John's enthusiasm at the prospect of being martyred in boiling oil.
You cannot escape the possibility of uninvited company when you have a glowing baby.
If Mary had owned one of those really big bug zappers history would be different.
Not even matters of the most basic household management or personal life were exempt from the mandates of the Church:
"...Yes I know you're the King of the Beasts and I know you have wings but as long as you live in this house you'll crap in that box."
When the hallucinations get shitty about your spelling it's time to go to bed.
Things you leave outside during a tornado will get blown away.
Know where your grandpa is.
Before you demand that miracle, balance how much you really miss the deceased with 1. how dead he is, and 2. how comprehensively freaked out you'll be when he comes back to life in the middle of August.
In some instances, a spray-on repellent like DEET simply isn't enough to keep away flying baby heads. Sometimes you need a flying teenager with a flail and a grenade.