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Tuesday, June 1, 2021

The Reason I Stopped Going to Catholic Church Is I'm Afraid to See Bob Maiocco Primping Looking for Applause at a Religious Event

Excerpt: Sinéad O’Connor Recalls ‘SNL’ Pope Furor in New Memoir

Singer details backstory to one of the most shocking moments in music history in new book Rememberings

https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-features/sinead-oconnor-snl-pope-memoir-1174191/?fbclid=IwAR18tuUDHNcocMke9qaHrlz3QyiTdOB-8sUgfEagB0phWBEQX_--SsREryE

 Black Sabbath were critical of the Pontiff, they just didn't do it on Saturday Night Live https://youtu.be/ImPeLr6H3jU

After Forever

"Would you like to see the Pope on the end of a rope - do you think he's a fool?"

The song is actually pro-God "They should realize before they criticize that God is the only way to love."


Leaving the Catholic Church and its brainwashing shows courage. Do we need to bring up the priests and the altar boys?

I didn't see the big uproar over Sinead, she can claim this or that, it was great marketing, good P.R. Many people would have never heard of her without that moment. And no chickens were killed in the stunt, Alice Cooper

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Sinead O'Connor:

It also happens I’ve been pissed off for a few weeks because I’ve been reading The Holy Blood and the Holy Grail (a contrarian, blasphemous history of the early church) but also finding brief articles buried in the back pages of Irish newspapers about children who have been ravaged by priests but whose stories are not believed by the police or bishops their parents report it to. So I’ve been thinking even more of destroying my mother’s photo of JP2.

And I decide tonight is the night.

I bring the photo to the NBC studio and hide it in the dressing room. At the rehearsal, when I finish singing Bob Marley’s “War,” I hold up a photo of a Brazilian street kid who was killed by cops. I ask the cameraman to zoom in on the photo during the actual show. I don’t tell him what I have in mind for later on. Everyone’s happy. A dead child far away is no one’s problem.



Second song is set up beautifully. With one candle beside me and my Rasta prayer cloth tied to the microphone, I sing “War” a cappella. No one suspects a thing. But at the end, I don’t hold up the child’s picture. I hold up JP2’s photo and then rip it into pieces. I yell, “Fight the real enemy!” (I’m talking to those who are gonna kill Terry.) And I blow out the candle.

Total stunned silence in the audience. And when I walk backstage, literally not a human being is in sight. All doors have closed. Everyone has vanished. Including my own manager, who locks himself in his room for three days and unplugs his phone.

“I understand I’ve torn up the dreams of those around me. But those aren’t my dreams.”

Everyone wants a pop star, see? But I am a protest singer. I just had stuff to get off my chest. I had no desire for fame. In fact, that’s why I chose the first song. “Success” was making a failure of my life. Because everyone was already calling me crazy for not acting like a pop star. For not worshipping fame.

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