[Diddle E. Squat]

Well duh, even if the cardinals believed this hokus-pokum, it would be a simple matter to forestall the end of the world. Just don't elect as Pope any Italian named Peter(or Richard, for that matter). And for good measure stay away from any candidate connected with Rome, GA, Rhome, TX or The Roman Spring of Mrs. Stone.

But then again, St. Malarchy may have hit it right. Say they do pick a Peter from Rome(BTW, I think that will be my new handle when calling in to talk shows), the panicked Italians may rise up and overthrow the Vatican.

[Diddle E. Squat]

BTTT.

Is that possible? I never figured out if bumping to the top is actual or symbolic, or simple a flagging mechanism for later self-search.

[Francohio]

I think I may have shared in the Prophecies of St. Malachy, Requiescat in Pace:

On an early summer evening in Rome in the year 1140, whilst in the
company of a band of Irish monks, he had a series of startling visions.

You see, my brothers, I myself have the drink taken in the Holy City of St.Peter, in the very same prayerful company as that good and holy Saint himself, although at a somewhat later date. I also experienced strange, mystic visions until well into the next morning. Pope, or no Pope; my head felt as if it were truly the end of the world.

Alas, my strange glimpses into the future were of the athletic variety, not the cosmically religious. I saw, clear as the day, the Washington Redskins triumph in the Super Bowl. I confess, I took money intended for Peter's Pence and backed them to the hilt, complete with an accurate spread. Riggin's running won me enough to purchase a splendid (used) motor car.

And that's no Malarchy. Amen.