Foreword
Excerpted from The Traveling Death and Resurrection Show
Deliver us from sour-faced saints.
--Teresa of Avila
My name is Frances Catherine, a.k.a. Frankka--Saint Cat onstage. With names like these I guess it goes without saying that I'm Catholic. Or I was Catholic. Raised Catholic, as they say. Lapsed Catholic or recovering Catholic, like it's some kind of drug you have to quit cold turkey. Twelve steps and maybe you'll be free of the guilt that clangs like church bells. Newborn original sin washed away by a priest and I'm the only one who's mucked it up since then: Sinner, impure, forgive me, it's all my fault.
Was Catholic? Dream on. Fallen or faithful, what are you going to do? You're given a mythology in this life, the way you're given a body, a family, a country. You can reject it if you like--starve it, laugh in its face, run away into exile--but it's still your mythology. There's always the chance for redemption.
Things can happen so fast. One moment things are one way and the next it's all completely different--bam--like some kind of mystical car crash and you're so turned around you can't even pinpoint the exact moment of impact. Was there a single moment of impact? What about warning signs? Nothing happens without a prophecy.
I'll tell you a story.
Deliver us from sour-faced saints.
--Teresa of Avila
My name is Frances Catherine, a.k.a. Frankka--Saint Cat onstage. With names like these I guess it goes without saying that I'm Catholic. Or I was Catholic. Raised Catholic, as they say. Lapsed Catholic or recovering Catholic, like it's some kind of drug you have to quit cold turkey. Twelve steps and maybe you'll be free of the guilt that clangs like church bells. Newborn original sin washed away by a priest and I'm the only one who's mucked it up since then: Sinner, impure, forgive me, it's all my fault.
Was Catholic? Dream on. Fallen or faithful, what are you going to do? You're given a mythology in this life, the way you're given a body, a family, a country. You can reject it if you like--starve it, laugh in its face, run away into exile--but it's still your mythology. There's always the chance for redemption.
Things can happen so fast. One moment things are one way and the next it's all completely different--bam--like some kind of mystical car crash and you're so turned around you can't even pinpoint the exact moment of impact. Was there a single moment of impact? What about warning signs? Nothing happens without a prophecy.
I'll tell you a story.