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Guess who was invited to Last Supper


Invitation to the Last Supper found in Holy Land," ran the headline in a publication named BAR (Biblical Archaeological Review), described by Sic's friend the philosopher as "a staid, scholarly journal." BAR is allegedly quoting the Weekly World News, which, Sic thinks, biblical scholars seldom peruse.

The BAR article claims that the News article claims that "a well-worn paper" written in Hebrew was uncovered in Bethany. This sounds convincing: The paper would naturally be well-worn by now. "Come partake of a supper of great importance," the invitation allegedly went. "We will experience a final gathering in the room where we have met many times before." The article quotes a French archaeologist: "Of course there is a possibility that Jesus actually wrote the invitations." Well, of course.

But the most sensational part of the invitation was omitted by the article. Jesus added, in his unmistakable handwriting: "Bring your spouse or significant other." This has rattled the pope, sources far from the Vatican say, and he is expected to announce that he was totally out of line when he said women could never be ordained.

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Anonymously received: "Fun things to do in an elevator":

"Crack open your briefcase or purse, and while peering inside ask: 'Got enough air in there?' "
"Greet everyone getting on the elevator with a warm handshake and ask them to call you Admiral."
"Stare, grinning, at another passenger for a while, and then announce: 'I've got new socks on!' "
"Walk on with a cooler that says 'Human Head' on the side."
"Listen to the elevator walls with a stethoscope."
"Draw a little square on the floor with chalk and announce to the other passengers that this is your 'personal space.' "
Sic says: Don't do any of the above if you're alone on the elevator or you'll feel like an idiot.

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The New Yorker, some time ago, ran an article on "Ethnicity, Genetics and Cuteness," which began: "Human cuteness was not only never measured but was a virtually taboo subject in America up to and beyond Reconstruction."

It is this kind of intense reporting that gives the N. Yorker -- and, by extension, Sic -- its greatness. The article gets better and better: "Cuteness would appear to have been a free-floating 'rogue factor,' in psychometric parlance, within virtually all ethnic and racial categories, since at least the wedding of the Duke of Windsor and Wallis Warfield Simpson."

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Sometimes people, meeting Sic for the first time, say, "I read Sic but I don't understand it."

This is always a great relief to Sic 'cause most of the time we don't understand it either.

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What's in a name?" asks William "Celebration" Freburger, who goes on to mention Patrick Kelly, new bishop of Salford, England, who "is understood to shudder at the prospect of being called 'His Grace Kelly.' "

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Readers may or may not (that about covers it) remember our recent, alleged responses to an Omni science contest. The bad news is, there are more:

"The earth may spin faster on its axis due to deforestation. Just as a figure skater's rate of spin increases when the arms are brought in close to the body, the cutting of tall trees may cause our planet to spin dangerously fast." "The reason hot rod owners raise the backs of their cars is that it's easier to go faster when you're always going downhill."

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Not to mention the absentee letters from an unspecified Polk County school:

"My daughter was absent because she was tired. She spent the weekend with the Marines."

"Carlos was playing football and was hurt in the growing area."

"Please excuse Ray from school. He has very loose vowels."

"Please excuse Blanch from Jim today. She is administrating."

"Gloria was absent this morning because she missed her bust."

"Maryann was absent Dec. 11-16 because she had a fever, sore throat, headache and upset stomach. Her sister was also sick, fever and sore throat, her brother has a low grade fever and ached all over. I wasn't the best either, sore throat and fever, there must be a flu going around. Her father even got hot last night."

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It is outrageous," writes Bro. William of Holy Writ, "that people doubt the authenticity of the Shroud of Turin." He was commenting on a National Catholic Register story to the effect that the blood on the shroud was female blood. "The shroud proves the resurrection," he said, "as long as you admit that Jesus might have been female."

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The theology of meetings has received little attention since the Council of Trent, which was one long boring meeting. This is now changing, according to stuff forwarded to This Space from Charlotte Ford, which reads in part:

"There are two major kinds of work in modern organizations:

1. Taking phone messages for people who are in meetings;
2. Going to meetings."

Then follows the general background:

"The first meeting ever was held back in the Mezzanine Era. In those days, man's job was to slay his prey and bring it home for woman, who had to figure out how to cook it. The trouble was, man was slow and basically naked, whereas the prey had warm fur and could run like an antelope. In fact, it was an antelope.

"At last someone said, 'Maybe if we just sat down and did some brainstorming.' ... It went extremely well, plus it was much warmer, so they met the next day and the next.

"But the women pointed out that, prey-wise, the men had not produced anything, and the human race was pretty much starving. The men agreed that was serious and said they would put it right near the top of their agenda. At this point, the women, who were primitive but not stupid, started eating plants, and thus modern agriculture was born. It never would have happened without meetings.

"The modern business meeting, however, might better be compared with a funeral, in the sense that you have a gathering of people who are wearing uncomfortable clothing and would rather be somewhere else. The major difference is that most funerals have a definite purpose. Also, nothing is really ever buried in a meeting."

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But Bro. Wm. of Holy W. wasn't finished with the Shroud. "I don't need any new tests on the Shroud," says he. "It's got to be Jesus, it looks exactly like him." Amen.

National Catholic Reporter, August 23, 1996