Pogue Danny Boy's mahone

With charges of pedophilia and rape pending against any number of Catholic priests, Phillipe and Jorge think the Diocese of Providence might have better things to do than worry about whether "Danny Boy" should be played at the Catholic funeral Mass. In banning this traditional sentimental Irish ballad, the ostriches in the diocese are merely marching to the tune (certainly not "Danny Boy") of the United States Conference of Bishops' dictum that the song is not worship music. This has caused a good deal of debate hereabouts, sure and begorrah.

Since P&J are not practicing Catholics, let's take the more telling (and sarcastic) quotes of Charles McKenna in his letter to the Providence Visitor, the local Catholic organ of record, as noted in the Urinal: "I want `Danny Boy' sung at my funeral Mass, and if it isn't, I'm going to get up and walk out," McKenna wrote. "We're not talking about `Who Threw the Overalls in Mrs. Murphy's Chowder.' "

Music directors at local Catholic churches are squirming in their seats and have suggested other tunes, such as "In Paradisum," be set to the tune of "Danny Boy." As anyone who's heard the Five Blind Boys sing a stunning "Amazing Grace" to the tune of "House of the Rising Sun," this might not be a bad idea. But some sky pilots, like the Reverend William O'Neill, an Irishman from County Donegal, who presides at St. Mark's Church in Jamestown, says just go ahead and play "Danny Boy," and tell the diocese, "Pogue mahone," or "Kiss my ass." We echo that sentiment, and urge the Diocese of Providence to cope with a few of its more glaring and unsettling problems.

(This item is dedicated to the late Fred MacKinnon of Pawtucket, the state's one-time ruling Irish tenor and all-around class act, who, accompanied on piano by his wife, the lovely colleen, Claire, would make you proud to have "Danny Boy" sung at your funeral whether you were Catholic, Protestant, Jew, Muslim or Buddhist.)

Welch's sour grapes

Sorry if P&J don't feel any sympathy over the European Union's rejection of outgoing General Electric CEO Jack Welch and his attempt to merge the unspeakable GE with Honeywell as his grand finale. Welch, as you may know, is the self-promoting corporate buccaneer and "Neutron Jack" -- so named for axing employees while leaving buildings standing -- who got a $7 million advance to write a book about turning around GE. Boy, that should attract a lot of readers who actually appreciate good literature.

But what also sullied Welch's swan song was his staunch opposition to cleaning up the suspected cancer-causing PCBs dumped by GE into the Hudson River over the years. His obstinacy is disgraceful and distasteful, and as soon as this creep gets out of the business spotlight the better, perhaps to have someone with a soul take his place -- however unlikely this wish may be.

Bled white

Great work by Governor Bigfoot last week when he buckled under to threats of a lawsuit by AG Sherbet Whitebread and released the controversial Quonset Point megaport "white paper." The Missing Linc declared it was a "red herring," and that there was "no smoke and no gun." All this in regard to how the white paper showed absolutely no alternative development propositions for the site, despite Bigfoot's statements to the contrary.

No smoke and no gun, Linc? Then what's that powder burn on your buttocks?

AS220 keeps on keeping on

The Bud-I landed at about 11:40 a.m. Tuesday, July 10 for the curbside press conference outside AS220 on Empire Street in Our Little Towne. About 50 people were milling about awaiting the announcement, including most of the usual suspects: Geoff Griffin and Lizzie Araujo from the AS220 brain trust, Perishable Theatre's Vanessa Gilbert, Erminio "Big Nazo" Pinque, David "Dr. Downtown" Brussat, Xander Marro from the Hive Archive, art angels Diana Johnson and Dr. Joseph Chazan, and the inimitable, inevitable, and unstoppable Bert Crenca.

The gathering was arranged so the mayor could announce how the city is poised to forgive the outstanding balance of a $205,415 loan made to AS220 in 1996, as soon as the group raises the $430,000 necessary to pay off the mortgage. The non-profit arts organization had already received and paid off a $425,000 short-term acquisition loan from the city back in 1993-94 to acquire the home base at 95-121 Empire St. The outstanding balance is $180,739. When AS220 owns the building, free and clear, this will eliminate monthly mortgage payments, retire the organization's only debt, and cut the group's annual expenses by at least $42,000.

Moving to ensure the fiscal health of AS220 is one of the best investments the city could possibly make. In your superior correspondents' estimation, AS220 is the most vital key to Our Little Towne's aspirations as an internationally renowned center for the arts. If any arts group can be called an incubator for new and innovative ideas, it is this humble storefront on Empire Street. Walk inside and you will encounter a whirlwind of activity. And anyone who somehow thinks the notion of Providence being an international arts center is hyperbole hasn't been paying attention to the AS220 saga and what these folks have built. Nor do they know the street-savvy visionary Crenca.

We believe Providence's position as an important arts center will continue to happen, and the city's gesture to forgive the outstanding debt is indeed a wise allocation of resources. Congratulations to the Bud-I (one of perhaps a handful of municipal leaders of real vision in the country), John Palmieri, Dr. Chazan, Bert, and the many others who have actively fought the good fight. AS220 will be embarking on a truly ambitious $3.5 million fundraising campaign later this year. We have little doubt that it will succeed.

Nazi-os

In this space a couple of weeks back, P&J noted that Dubya the Dumb's new appointment to head the US Agency for International Development, Andrew Natsios, one of the faith-based god-botherers that Junior is recruiting, said the US wouldn't supply antiretroviral drugs to African nations due to their lack of infrastructure for distribution, and their inability to tell time well enough to take their pills at the correct hours. An avowed P&J fan offers this insider's view of how well that idea was received:

"I cannot let you use my name, but I assure you the following is a true story as my son-in-law was one of two dozen persons present at a State Dept briefing when Andrew Natsios (Dimwit Dubya's Conservative Ding Dong who heads AID) made his presentation of the "Africans wouldn't know when to take AIDS drugs" theory to Adam Clayton Colon-Bowel.

"Not only did Natsios disgust the group, but he bored them with his too-lengthy speech. Powell closed the meeting with -- `I assure you -- this African can tell time.' Silence followed. Perhaps there is a Great Black Hope in this otherwise sorry Kitchen Kabinet of Dubya's."

Words of wisdom

Quote of the week from Dubya the Dumb, cited in the New York Times, a prime example of why Johnny can't read:

"On Friday, Mr. Bush's 55th birthday, he was suffused by wonder by the realization that he and an Associated Press reporter who was marking his own birth day would share that connection again. `The amazing thing,' Mr. Bush said, `was that we'll have our birthday on the same day next year.' "

And boy, is that bar code reader at the supermarket simply amazing!

Mau-mauing the scandal catchers

Take a breather, Jon-Benet, and you, Robert Blake, it looks like you've got a reprieve as well. If merely for the sake of keeping MSNBC on the air 24 hours a day, this little chunk of real estate we like to call the United States of America, needs a good scandal du jour, and Jon-Benet and "Little Beaver" Blake are getting a bit stale. So, thank you and please step on up, US Representative Gary Condit!

It's hard to believe that this guy has been as successful as he's been when you consider how badly he's handled his zipper problem. You'd think that he might have learned something from Billary, the Zipper King, but it seems the only move Condit picked up from Big Bill was to stonewall.

So we at least know two things about this guy: he's a womanizer and he's selfish. Reports are that there are at least a half-dozen other women who've talked with law enforcement about their intimate relationships with Condit. And he's so focused on salvaging his political career that, for weeks, he refused to acknowledge the nature of his relationship with the missing intern, Chandra Levy.

While Condit may not be an "official" suspect according to the DC police, he's the unofficial only suspect as far as the national public is concerned. And despite the mewling protestations of Condit's pricey mouthpiece, Abbe Lowell, it isn't the media's fault. It was Condit's own stupid strategy of refusing to talk that caused the problem.

Of course, the BeloJo's ever-consistent "Faux" Philip Terzian had a hilariously alternative theory on why the press and the public now suspect Condit -- because the media is describing him as a "right-wing Democrat," which, according to Terzian, a firm believer in the vast left-wing media conspiracy, is media code for "evil." When, oh when, will Fox News finally offer Terzian his own pundit show ("Faux Phil's Bash-athon" would be our choice for a title)?

We, of course, don't preclude the possibility that Condit might be complicit in Chandra Levy's disappearance. But there are other people in her life and, obviously, a number of psycho-killers roaming the streets of Washington, DC, (many sent their by their own friends and neighbors). We know nothing about the rest of the investigation, and just because Condit is a scumbag and has acted badly in this matter doesn't translate into his being a criminal. Let's see what develops.

Patience and presumption of innocence, however, are not big themes with our fellow citizens. Check out some of the chat Web sites upon which the Levy disappearance is being discussed, and then try to tell P&J with a straight face that, if you were ever accused of a crime, you'd want any of these people in the jury pool.

Send seashells, shrimp toast, and Pulitzer-grade tips to p&j[a]phx.com.

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