Pope Francis' televised funeral is turning into an extraordinary broadcast of the Eurovision final.
I'm not sure the Argentine would approve of this, no matter how generous he was, but the coffin with his mortal remains has become a tourist attraction for shockingly demented beings. "Incredible!", Great!" and "Great!" are just a few of the exclamations heard yesterday from those who had just peeked into the deceased's coffin and snapped a selfie before they were devoured.
Religions and churches will always exist as long as humanity exists. Why? Elementary. Because of the pile of important questions that science still doesn't answer. Or it gives one that doesn't suit us. As we know, we are the unhappiest mammal - only humans know that they will die. They learn it at the first funeral of a loved one - usually a grandmother or grandfather.
And this feeling of quicksand and transience leaves an imprint on the entire worldview and way of life of a person, without necessarily dying every moment from fear of death. It is simply woven into him - the idea and clear awareness that he will grow old and die. No other animal knows this. A fly finds a piece of shit and hums gently near it. A moth chews on our grandfather's old coat in a mothball spell. The salmon casts its last caviar and falls asleep forever on the rocky bottom, to be grabbed by Grandma Metza, who doesn't think that this awakening from winter sleep could be her last.
And none of them live in sadness and nostalgia, fear and remorse and the enormous natural need for faith, hope and love that people have - eternal children doomed to doubts and fear, who have to pretend to be settled and wise until they get tired of that too.
There was no surprise in the heavy television slurping that they have been giving us since Easter - we know our stuff.
And Pope Francis knew it, but he had to be polite...