I don't know?.
Perhaps not, but the following comment I copied from his site kind of sounds like something he might write after a couple of - well, hits. Read it for yourself. Creepy. Notice the word 'poodled'? Scary - he's reading my blog. Just kidding. Seriously - I know I may be over-reaching, but I will hi-light words and phrases I think sound like something he might say.
.
Johnny's in the basement, mixing up the medicine...Good People, it’s time to roll the stone and gather no moss. And grow up. What did Christ say to the Apostles upon His Resurrection when they were all bamboozled, fadoodled and outright poodled? “Peace! My Peace be with you!”Then buy, borrow, steal or mortgage a bit of Peace if you can, cuz it’s time move on and leave the funeral parlor and bury old Father John and baptize and circumsize Hot Rod Johnny Corapi.
Get used to it. The old Padre is gone and Harley John Corapi is rumbling out of your towne for good.
The Wild Ones, Part II. You don’t like it? You get a new messiah and he’ll get new groupies. We’ll call it even and call it a day.
It’s over. It’s past over. Father Corapi is Dead! Long Live The Black Sheep Dog Corapi.What?
You don’t like it? Too bad. Get over it and get over yourself. John Corapi’s patiently laid the storyline and the plot about his big changes in life, and he’s given you every chance to get it. Do you get it yet? No? Let me explain it to you so that you’ll understand it.
He ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more. You can guess, surmise, assume and presume all day long about why he ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more, but the bottom line is that he ain’t.
Did he sin? Did he do “it” or all that other stuff that’s bandied about here, there and everywhere in your mind and hearts? Probably, maybe, could be, who knows? Who cares?Maybe even more than you could guess. Maybe none of it. It’s over. He ain’t a priest no more. You can live in Yesterdayville all you want and wish him back as hard as your little soul can until your heart breaks and your eyes burst with tears of pain and sorrow and confusion.
Be his guest.
But it’s over.
Move along now, there ain’t nothing to see here no more.
He ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more.
“He’s got a head full of ideas that are drivin’ him insane.
Well, he tries his best
To be just like he is
But everybody wants you
To be just like them
They say sing while you slave and he just get bored
He ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more.”
He’s told you now, for the last time. He ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more.
Either come along for the ride or move along. If you’re looking for him to save you, forget it. Ain’t gonna happen. No more. He’s mixed his last magic potion and heard his last confession and you can go away mad or go away empty. Just go away.
You want a suggestion on how to deal with all your broken dreams? Don’t follow leaders…watch the parking meters.
You want Jesus? Then go get Jesus. But leave Corapi out of it.He ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more. -
Black SheepDog.
I'm actually serious about this. I really think he or one of his own might have posted this as a response to the largely negative comments he's been getting. Just a hunch of course.
What did Christ say to the Apostles upon His Resurrection when they were all bamboozled, fadoodled and outright poodled? “Peace! My Peace be with you!”
Then buy, borrow, steal or mortgage a bit of Peace if you can, cuz it’s time move on and leave the funeral parlor and bury old Father John and baptize and circumsize Hot Rod Johnny Corapi.
Get used to it. The old Padre is gone and Harley John Corapi is rumbling out of your towne for good.
The Wild Ones, Part II. You don’t like it? You get a new messiah and he’ll get new groupies. We’ll call it even and call it a day.
It’s over. It’s past over. Father Corapi is Dead! Long Live The Black Sheep Dog Corapi.
What? You don’t like it? Too bad. Get over it and get over yourself. John Corapi’s patiently laid the storyline and the plot about his big changes in life, and he’s given you every chance to get it.
Do you get it yet?
No?
Let me explain it to you so that you’ll understand it.
He ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more.
You can guess, surmise, assume and presume all day long about why he ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more, but the bottom line is that he ain’t.
Did he sin? Did he do “it” or all that other stuff that’s bandied about here, there and everywhere in your mind and hearts? Probably, maybe, could be, who knows? Who cares?
Maybe even more than you could guess. Maybe none of it.
It’s over.
He ain’t a priest no more.
You can live in Yesterdayville all you want and wish him back as hard as your little soul can until your heart breaks and your eyes burst with tears of pain and sorrow and confusion.
Be his guest.
But it’s over.
Move along now, there ain’t nothing to see here no more.
He ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more.
“He’s got a head full of ideas that are drivin’ him insane.
Well, he tries his best
To be just like he is
But everybody wants you
To be just like them
They say sing while you slave and he just get bored
He ain’t gonna work on Maggie’s farm no more.”
He’s told you now, for the last time. He ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more. Either come along for the ride or move along. If you’re looking for him to save you, forget it. Ain’t gonna happen. No more. He’s mixed his last magic potion and heard his last confession and you can go away mad or go away empty. Just go away.
You want a suggestion on how to deal with all your broken dreams?
Don’t follow leaders…watch the parking meters.
You want Jesus? Then go get Jesus. But leave Corapi out of it.
He ain’t working on Maggie’s Farm no more. - Black SheepDog
.
I'm actually serious about this. I really think he or one of his own might have posted this as a response to the largely negative comments he's been getting. Just a hunch of course.