The Catholic Church has this famously bizarre, closeted, and mafia-adjacent process for declaring saints. (Yes, it’s still a thing. Apparently there are 1,600 applications on the books right now. Cancel your OBE application, this is what you need.)

 

Miracles must be verified, virtues examined, committees convened and palms greased. Decades—sometimes centuries—tick by before a halo is finally rubber-stamped. And it all happens behind closed doors on the third floor of a Vatican office block, overseen by a cardinal whose title sounds like a Dan Brown villain. 

 

And yet, somehow, saints keep getting churned out. 

 

So. My thinking is that maybe we could use one of the world’s most corrupt systems against itself. Canonise Donald Trump and Elon Musk (not limited to them)—now, while they’re alive, (Donald might be on his way out as I write this so his application might be unnecessary) while their egos are still twitching—just to get it over with?

 

Not posthumously. Let's not wait. Not after “evidence of divine intervention” (don’t worry, I’m not proposing Epstein here). But immediately. Beatification on demand. (Sounds like a late-night porn channel, or part of the Diddy trial?)

 

Because really, sainthood is what they the big guns are after. Bigger than a knighthood, bigger than a Nobel, bigger than the Presidential Medal of Freedom. 

 

It’s… it’s… it’s the biggest. The best. And they deserve it.

 

Trump on stage isn’t a politician, (shucks tell me something I didn't know Damo) he’s a televangelist—spitting parables, promising salvation, casting himself as both martyr and redeemer. He is righteous (meaning always right). He’s the prodigal son, King David, Solomon, Moses, Samson, and—naturally—Jesus himself. (Which might also explain the skin tone.) 

 

His followers aren’t voters. They’re parishioners.

 

Elon, meanwhile, doesn’t just build cars or rockets. He builds the future. Or at least the belief that only he can. His announcements are scripture: Mars colonies by 2025, robotaxis tomorrow, free speech restored by the grace of his algorithm. They both can predict the future and damn it (sorry Pope Leo) they can near as hell turn water into wine, at least no one has seen them not do it, therefore its true.

 

The Vatican insists on miracles? Fine. My god we've seen them! Trump has survived two impeachments, four indictments, and more lawsuits than Job. Elon turned an electric car startup into the world’s most over-valued company while also buying Twitter, spawning twelve children, selling perfume, flamethrowers, and still finding time to bully strangers online. He is a goddamn miracle. They (believe to) have done more good than Mother Teresa, Francis of Assisi and Joan of Arc combined. 

 

Fast-track the canonisation and think of the relief. (not that sort!) Trump, no longer campaigning, just sitting in a Florida grotto (such a fitting word for him) playing with his beads. 

 

 

And then what's in it for me? I would just like to have to be treated equally. To sit on one of the world's largest art collections and pay zero tax, that's all.

 

Of course the theologians will kick up. Sainthood requires humility, a life of service, and—awkwardly—death. But come on, exceptions are the Church’s specialty. A few extra Hail Marys, a donation here or there… If indulgences once hid pedophiles and built basilicas, sainthoods can surely be issued to preserve our collective sanity. 

 

“Cash for canonisation” is the campaign. Sign up here.

 

The only condition (and listen this is very important) once Trump and Musk are haloed, we immediately lobby for the abolition of sainthood itself. Three birds, two stones. Bam. Done.

So, Pope Leo—(I know you’re reading this)—do us all a favour. Make them saints. Beatify them both. The sooner their egos rest in peace, the sooner the rest of us can too. Amen.

 

PS: This weekend 7th September on St.Peter's Sqaure you can witness the canonisation of Carlo Acutis. Acutis is sainthood’s millennial update, not the youngest saint but the first millennial saint ever. Bizarre. See you there? 

 

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🧁 = (cupcake) Treat brain – easy to consume

🦪 = (oyster) More challenging - not for everyone

 

🧁

But there is. And Marc has brought it to you by scouring the subculture archives to rejuvenate old news that never gets old. 

 

🦪

The title is one of the most enticing titles in any book shop. And the opening quote in Keith McNally's memoir is so fitting “An autobiography is only to be trusted when it reveals something disgraceful. A man who gives a good account of himself is probably lying, since any life when viewed from the inside is simply a series of defeats." George Orwell.

 

🦪

China's quest to engineer the future. It seems so obvious when the author describes the similarities and differences between China and the US, but the eloquence with which Dan Wang demonstrates these differences is so compelling. It all comes down to who runs the country and the US is run by lawyers and China is run by engineers. Simple.

 

🧁

Who Knew. 

Barry Diller's memoir. By no means anyway as entertaining or honest as Keith McNallys, but equally fascinating, as we dive into the world of deal making. Barry is probably one of the greatest dealers of all time. 

 

🦪

Too busy? No time to read? This novella is 100 pages long, it can be read in the time you spend on Instagram each day. And you'll be transported into a world that was potentially created exactly to fit you. 

 

🧁

Parcels. The Australian electro-disco funk band is back with a new album. As the summer comes to an end, this helps keep optimism levels up. 

 

🧁

Blood Orange. Essex Honey. Sounds so unappetising. But its actually delicious.

 

🧁

Paloma Faith does not have perhaps the best voice for a podcast IMHO, (who am I to talk) but despite this the show is fun. Samuel L Jackson does his first and last podcast and introduced me to the world of post-anaesthesia videos.

 

🧁

A show from Factory International in Manchester. Gemma Cairney is the host and she's got a great podcast voice talking with musicians, artists and all kinds of other brilliant creators.

 

 

🦪

Possibly one of the best music documentaries I have ever seen. A story of a tortured soul who produced just one album, but captured the hearts of millions. Pure art. 

 

🧁

A tiny garage in a giant city, caring for priceless automobilia. 

 

The Peep show boys are back. Will never be as good, but I'll take what I can get from these two.

 

🧁

Vice is Broke. There are so many things not to like about Vice today, but there is no denying that Vice meant something; it defined an era and Eddie Huang does a great job in making it feel important and making Shane Smith look like a douchebag.

 

🧁

The Mastermind. 

Another Mubi film about a carpenter turned art thief. So much more interesting than the BBC Two art fraud show, despite its cameo with Jake Chapman.

 

This weekend is Ricci weekender, once again I cannot make it, but it reminded me that there was one vineyard I wanted to visit and that was Occhipinti, a vineyard run by Arianna Occhipinti making wine I love.

 

As always, thanks for reading to the end.
Any suggestions or comments?
Email me: damian@bradfield.wtf

 

That's it. Amen. 

 

This newsletter was inspired by The Guardian's article