There was a time not so long ago when if I had seen the Pontifical Academy for Life [sic] eulogizing Hans Kung [may God grant him the mercy I seek for myself] I would have been beside myself.
Of course the made men are going to toast each other--they're at the top and they're going to enjoy it. At some level, it's like getting angry at a dog taking a leak on a lamppost. It's what they do.
How did I reach this place of relative equanimity?
It's simple. I followed the Marie Kondo method: I am tidying up my spiritual life and discarding things which do not spark joy.
And there is nothing coming from Rome which is worthy of attention unless I choose to attach importance to it. Stoicism--yeah, more than a bit.
But that's where I am: prayers for the church and pope in the rosary and liturgy and that's it.
No intensive scanning of apostolic exhortations, CDF declarations, etc.
Because here's the reality--the last seventy years have taught us that everything is provisional. Today's authoritative encyclical is tomorrow's memory hole ash. The catechism comes with a bottle of white-out. The laity don't have to "receive" anything they don't like.
Orwell died a decade before Vatican II, but he would certainly have recognized the three generations of double-think which have followed. And likely laughed quite heartily at his bete-noire Minitrue-ing itself.
You know what applause-hungry nobles who crave attention hate the most? Being ignored.