On June 17th, 1603 Joseph Desa was born to Felix and Francesca in the town of Cupertino Italy. (Well, Francesca anyway. Felix died just before Joseph’s birth.) Joseph grew into an extremely dim-witted young man, and was known around town as “the Gaper” for his tendency to stare slack-jawed into space.
Not having any real prospects, Francesca tried to get Joe into a few different friaries around town. (At least monks always got fed.) Unfortunately Joe was a bit of a spaz (god had gifted him with “ecstasies”) and none of the monks were willing to let the stupid kid play any of their reindeer games. Eventually the Franciscans decided that while he might not be bright enough for chanting and tonsures, he was plenty smart to clean stables and wash socks. So they took him on as their servant and set about getting some socks for him to clean. Later they made him a priest. (Franciscans apparently embrace a very corporate, “promote to your level of incompetence” governing structure.)
At the Feast of Saint Francis is a-Sissy (I can’t help it — I can’t even write it correctly anymore.) on October 4th, 1630, Joe got so ecstatic that god gifted him with the power of flight, and the young man buzzed around the crowds for the remainder of the afternoon. After this Joe started flying all the time. Any time he’d get really into his prayers, or just thinking about Jesus, or if someone sneaked up behind him and whispered “Mary” into his ear, ZOOM! Off he’d go.
Clearly seeing no possibility of divine providence in a monk who could pick up and fly around the friggin’ room at the mention of Jesus’ name, Joe’s superiors in the church forbade him to fly ever again. God however, had gifted Joe a little more sternly than that, and Joe’s ecstasies and his flights continued unabated. Suddenly armed with more-or-less incontrovertible proof of god’s handiwork, as well as the fact that people were coming from all over Europe to witness the Flying Saint, (really the Flying Idiot, since you can’t be sainted until someone kills you for flying) the church did the only thing that made any sense, and locked Joe away in first Assisi, then when crowds started coming there to see him, Pietrarubbia, then Fossombrone, and finally Osimo. Every time he was moved he was forbidden another form of communication, until finally he restricted to speaking only to his direct superiors among the other monks.
During this time Joe got kinda depressed and god took away all his gifts, because no one like a whiney baby.
In 1663 Joe got sick, and began to die. He was pretty excited at the prospect, having had everything there was to live for taken from him by the church and by god. (In his wisdom.) A month later Joe died, and huge crowds showed up to his funeral, which must have pissed the boss monks off.
In 1767 (two hundred years before my birthday) Joe was canonized. Among other things, Joe is the saint of astronauts and very stupid people.
If I was a saint, I’d want to be the saint of appreciating boobies and people who aspire to become alcoholics but can’t afford it. What would you like to be the saint of?