I expect that when pop singer Katy Perry put that down payment on the Los Angeles manse she’s hoping to move into, its history as a convent added to its already considerable allure. She, like so many outsiders, likely presumed the walls would fairly exude the hum of vespers and not, as is more likely, the residue of Enneagram seminars and lectures on liberation theology. (Then there’s the bad karma from those pedophile priests who were shacked up there, come to find out…)
Perry was raised in one of those stuck-up Protestant denominations that consider Catholics weirdos, while simultaneously forbidding their own kids to eat “Lucky Charms [cereal] as the term ‘luck’ reminded their mother of Lucifer,” and making them “call deviled eggs ‘angeled eggs.’” Perry’s attempted purchase of the old Immaculate Heart convent is probably a wee jab at said mother, who sounds a lot like Carrie’s but without the charm and wit.
This really needed to be about twice as long, to properly wind up all the threads I was pulling.
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