So now we have Saint John Paul II. Because of the *miracles* you see.
He’s got to have _two_ of them to be a saint. Since one could be a fluke, or something, but two just, seals the fucking deal. Whatever.
The fantastic part? The 2nd miracle was a woman who had some sort of brain swelling, but the Pope spoke to her through a *picture* and cured her.
That’s right. Traumatic (fatal) brain swelling/bleeding + imaginary hallucination of pope voice == miracle.
Well, spank my ass and call my Thomas, if I had deadly brain swelling, I might fucking hallucinate that the Pope was speaking to me too.
I *also* might hallucinate that I was Superman, the Earth was my testicle, and the Moon was our darling love child.