Equus Asinus

Rubí Donkey writes her Rubí Tuesday blogue.

In today’s Rubí Tuesday blog I am going to consider magical thinkings, wot is similar to pooters that I wrottied about last week. These things affect all our lives and make things more complicated for people and donkeys. After today’s blogue you will know about the US election and why the result will be due to a wonderful magical preminotion by a hermit which is why voting will be unnecessary.

First we need to understand what is the connection between magical thinkings and science. Is there any rational reason breakfast arrives, or is it becuse a Peasant hears our prayers when we starts braying at 6.30? Was the Holy House in Nazareth flown by angels to Italy? And is there a democratic process involved in the American president’s re-election or will the result be due to the amazing preminotion by an American hermit in Loreto in the 1980s?

Thanks to Morris donkey’s Interweb research we can reveal the truth about magical thinkings and why there is no such thing as experts and science.

Ten years ago exactly, our Peasant – who is the sort of gullible person who lets a donkey unzip his tent and eat his supper – was persuaded by like-minded dullards to set up a new traditionalist blogue, “Catholicism Pure & Simple.” It quickly turned out to be deficient in all three ingredients.

Shortly after the blogue went live, it emerged that the shady anonymous holder of the blogue’s keys had chosen for this new Catholic beacon of purity and simplicity the password Salazar in honour of the Portuguese fascist dictator. The Peasant – who is a bit slow sometimes – began to suspect all was not what it seemed. He organised a bloodless coup which changed the password and took ownership of the blogue away from the conspirators, relaunching it as a pure and simple unfascist blogue.

Are you still with me at the back?

“I’m struggling with this,” said Matilde. “When do we get the usual humorous Rubí Tuesday blogue which the readers look forward to?”

“Is it time for me to be a silly horse now?” asked Aitana.

Morris pointed to his computer with his front right hoof. “Here it is. 20th February 2017, The Hermit of Loreto’s Preminotion about President Trump. American hermit Tom Zimmer preminoted thirty years ago that Trump would bring Americans back to God.”

“My giddy aunt!” said Matilde donkey, causing a momentary panic for Aitana who had never heard previous hints of that kind of problem in the family. “This was an actual traditional Catholic blogue set up by intelligent people? Including our own Peasant?”

“Yes,” replied Morris donkey. “But the Peasant was by that time a persona non gracias on the blogue becuse he had said various blasphemous things. So that blogue post was nothing to do with him.”

“What kind of blasphemous things?” asked Matilde.

Morris shrugged. “The Peasant said things like, ‘Catholic tradition doesn’t invite us to embrace nazism’ and ‘white supremacy would not have been the preferred plan of Saint Augustine of Hippo, who happened to be black,’ and other members of the group began to suspect the Peasant was wearing the wrong colour armband. And the Peasant began to wish he’d stuck to an earlier plan to be a buddhist.”

“So they parted amicably?” asked Matilde.

“Yes,” said Morris. “It was one of those rare occasions on social media when murderous hysterical screaming factions parted quietly on good terms.”

“Never mind all that.” I said. “Can we please get back to this story of the Hermit of Loreto? I have arranged to interview the Peasant becuse he actually went to Loreto in 1986 on his bicycle and he can explain us all about it.”

RUBÍ DONKEY: Hello Peasant.
THE PEASANT: Hello Rubí
RUBÍ DONKEY: Hello Peasant.
THE PEASANT: Hello Rubí. We’ve said that twice now…
RUBÍ DONKEY: I was testing the microphone.
THE PEASANT: So you want me to tell you about the Holy House of Loreto?
RUBÍ DONKEY: Why don’t you tell me about the Holy House of Loreto?
THE PEASANT: So, the famous shrine is reputed to be the actual house from Nazareth where the Virgin Mary was visited by the angel Gabriel who told her she was going to have a baby.
RUBÍ DONKEY: Something similar happened to me.
THE PEASANT: You were visited by an angel?
RUBÍ DONKEY: No. I had a baby. My foal Morris.
THE PEASANT: Yes you did, but not in Nazareth. Anyway…. when the holy sites were threatened by Muslim invaders in medieval times, a whole swarm of angels lifted up the Holy House and flew it to Loreto in Italy.
RUBÍ DONKEY: Why Italy? Why not Paris?
THE PEASANT: How do I know? It was too heavy to fly it over the Alps. I don’t know, Rubí… Pilgrims were looking for new places to go. Angels just take things where it seems right, OK?
RUBÍ DONKEY: All right. But I’m still not too sure about the flying house.
THE PEASANT: Well don’t call your blogue “Magical thinkings” if you can’t keep up with it! So when I went to Loreto in August 1986 on my bicycle I saw the little Holy House with its great big basilica built over it: and on a high painted fresco muriel was the whole history of flight, including the Montgolfier brothers in their hot air balloon, Bleriot in his plane, men landing on the moon, and of course the angels flying the Holy House of Nazareth to Loreto. Those Magnificent Men & Angels in their Flying Machines and Holy Houses.
RUBÍ DONKEY: And that’s it, is it?
THE PEASANT: Yep, that’s it. Are you going to ask me how this connects with your theme of magical thinkings?
RUBÍ DONKEY: Hello Peasant.
THE PEASANT: Turn the microphone off now, Rubí.
RUBÍ DONKEY: Hello Peasant…

So, that was my interview with the Peasant, which was his very moving authentic memory of his visit to the Holy House of Loreto. It had clearly made a deep impression on him as he said nothing at all about the bar next to the basilica, whether the beer was Morretti or Nastro Azzurro. Sadly, Morris could find no pictures of the muriel that the Peasant described, with the Montgolfier brothers and the moon landing, etc. We both sadly concluded that the Peasant must have hallucinated after a long bike ride through the Italian Marches in the August sun. Just one more confused holy tourist stumbling around the basilica in a daze that could also be a clue about the pilgrimage beer arrangements.

“But the story of magical thinkings does not end there,” said Morris. He pulled up the Catholicismpure blogue from 2017 and waved his hoof with a flourish. He read the blogue aloud: “The Hermit of Loreto’s 1980s Premonition About President Trump! Father Giacomo Capoverde shares a fascinating story of his encounter with the Hermit of Loreto at the site of the Holy House… an amazing preminotion about Donald J. Trump.”

It all comes down to a brick with a name on it secretly hidden away in the Vatican bearing witness to the hermit’s magical foreknowledge of “Donald J. Trump: the man who will bring Americans back to God.“

Powerful stuff. The dozen or so readers of the Catholicismpure blogue queued up to comment under the article and video and say what wondrous magical thinkings this was, and what a holy preminotion. Our Peasant never contributed another thing to that ‘traditional Catholic blogue’ and his name was anathema, or the opposite of magical thinkings (i.e unmagical thinkings or magical unthinkings.)

Thank you for reading my Rubí Tuesday blogue. In my next blogue I will look at more magical thinkings as we explore the alchemy of package holidays to the Costa Covid where your tour guides have hastily qualified in a three-day epidermiology course and they can steer you magically through a lightly masked hand-sanitised fortnight of delayed travel, queuing for the beach spaces, early nights out in socially empty restaurants, and the last-minute thrill of the sudden dash home to avoid quarantine.