I am now reading St Alphonsus Liguori’s Meditations Suitable For All Times.
The saintly man had a way of writing that is very intimate and familiar; it is like a friend talking to you. There is a warmth in his writing that is not easy to convey unless it is in the writer’s heart first. However, one trait of St Alphonsus immediately attracts attention: he is very, and wilfully, repetitive.
At the beginning, this may seem a bit disconcerting, with the same concept (the necessity to repent and convert now rather than waiting or hoping that one will get a chance of final repentance later) constantly hammered in basically every second page.
It might seem too much; but after a couple of hours of reading, one understands the logic behind it.
I read an exhortation to repentance now, and I may find it useful or well-written. In order to make a lasting impression, it will need to be crafted excellently. It might well be forgotten after a while.
The Saint’s constant exhortations do not work in this way. Being written always in different ways, but always repeating the same concept, the basic message etches itself in the reader’s consciousness surely and effortlessly. It’s basically unavoidable that the message “gets in”, whilst avoiding the boredom because the writing style is, actually, varied. The “Meditations” all have a different starting point – which is the object of the real meditation – but they all come, invariably, back to the same concept: get your house in order now, because you could drop dead before dinner time. After a while, one gets in the rhythm and understands, or embraces, the underlying message and the author’s unusual writing style. And no: it’s never boring. This is a saintly man pouring out in a beautiful language the love for Christ he has in his heart, not a V II priests rehashing common places about the “joy of Christ”.
This also makes the meditations useful if read in very little pills. Whilst I don’t think many people read them one at a time, they could actually be read in this way, at perhaps two or three minutes each, perhaps whilst waiting for the bus, or for the coffee to cool down a bit.
St Alphonsus, who was clearly a smart guy, knew it and put the principle into action.
The news of Chris “Fredo” Cuomo being indefinitely suspended from Fake News CNN really made my day, and I would like to share my joy with you, together with some reflections.
CNN is now playing Cinderella and feigning ignorance of the numerous abuses of his position perpetrated by Frodo. But seriously, it is absurd to think that they have discovered just now how bad the situation was.
Rather, a smart observer will detect, in yesterday’s decision, a shrewd political/office strategy calculation. Fredo was certainly untouchable, and probably useful, as long as Big Groping Brother was Governor. With the bigger guy gone and disgraced, and not able to scare anyone into submission anymore, it wasn’t really expedient to keep living with such an arrogant, lying, universally hated, entitled liar whose only strong points were his family name and his powerful connections. Fredo had to end like the other Fredo, though I heard no shots on Lake Tahoe this time.
The second, important thing to learn is that the Democrat world is like the world of Byzantine Emperors. The Emperor was an arrogant bully who thought he was unassailable and behaved the way you would expect from such a guy. But when the Emperor was taken down, there was to be no mercy for the members of his clique, then the new groups vying for power and control of the Imperial Court will not tolerate any obstacle in their way. The same DA who took down Cuomo will likely candidate for Governor. She is the one who, releasing the Fredo information, caused his downfall, too. She will use her Cuomo corpses to climb to political prominence. In ten years, in pure Bizantine style, it will be her turn to go down as she forgets prudence and a new, hungry generation of Democrat politicians go for her jugular.
It’s a sad world, full of lies, intrigues, calumnies, and abuses of all sorts, and subject to a brutish end some day. No mercy will be asked or given.
Fredo should have known it, long before being brought on a small boat, by CNN executives, in the middle of Lake Tahoe.
As we write the Year Of The Lord 2021, you can go on Amazon and buy pretty much the opera omnia of St Alphonsus Liguori for (here in the UK) less than 3 pounds. St Alphonsus was a prolific writer, with both great depth of knowledge and great breadth of topics. I think he wrote about 30 works of varied length.
It had to be a rather well-heeled Catholic who, some 100 or 150 years ago, had in his library all the works of the great Saint. Most Catholics would, in ages past, call themselves happy if they had, in their simple homes, a Bible, a Missal, perhaps a life of the Saints, and the one or other devotional work. Very many could, surely, not afford even that. This, if they could read properly.
Today, everyone who has his priorities right can make the investment in a Kindle (or download the app for his already existing smartphone or tablet) and access all of Saint Alphonsus Liguori at less than the cost of a pint of Guinness.
I see in this, as I have written many times already, the work of Providence. In His Goodness, God has given us the ability to access, like no generation before us, the treasuries of the Church even as He allows – no doubt, to punish us for our aggiornamento arrogance – the Church to be corrupted like perhaps never before, and even persecuting – as in the time of Athanasius – Her faithful children.
In a way, it could be even said that this subtle Divine help is even nearer and more accessible than the traditionally used one. The factory worker in Milan around 1905 might have disliked the local priest – who might have been, in fact, unpleasant or outright obnoxious -, but the software programmer in Milan around 2021 will have no real barriers to the download of his St Alphonsus Liguori, and a short moment of inspiration will be enough to get all the material on his tablet; certainly an easier approach than entering a church full of people who consider you (very likely, rightly so) a dangerous subversive.
Every age has its challenges. Some have poverty, some have famine, some have war, some have pestilence, some have Communism.
We have Francis and his band of godless faggots.
I am not sure I would like to swap with a guy during the Black Plague, the French Revolution, the Biennio Rosso, or the Thirty Years War.
Count your blessings. Buy a Kindle. Start amassing a sensible Catholic library at little cost. Dedicate time to delve into it, and to grow in your Catholicism irrespective of the antics of that unspeakable ass.
And pray the Rosary. Pray the Rosary every day.
Francis is unable to do you any harm, if you only follow a short moment of inspiration.
Everyone who works in the UK and, likely, in big cities of the US knows the situation: more and more people, at work, are infidels or heathens.
The more and more noticeable presence of people of other religions engenders, I think, a big mistake in many who are only superficially “Christian”. Insofar as they think of whether these infidels and heathen will be saved, they likely reflect that all those who “have their heart in the right place” will likely be saved, because hey, it’s not their fault they are Hindus, or Muslims, or Jews and they can, obviously (or so the thinking goes) not reasonably conceive becoming Christians.
Well, there’s a big problem right there. And yes, let me give you a spoiler: it is very reasonable to assume that the vast (as in: vast) majority of your colleagues, walking around the corridors with their own exotic and difficult-to-remember names will, actually, spend eternity in hell. Yes, I am talking of the same people who talk to you about their hopes for their children, the way they are planning to redo the garden, or the other cares and worries that everybody else has. Yep, they are all nice people; still, niceness does not save.
The religion of niceness sees (nice) heathens all around us and automatically welcomes them into the fantasy of almost universal salvation. Even those few who (used to) go to church are, nowadays, bombarded with homilies which never say, but constantly imply, that baptism of desire is just like Covid and will, sooner or later, get pretty much everybody. Possibly even worse, we live in times where even Bishops tell us that they “dare” to hope this and that (say: that hell is empty), thus signalling that it is good to dare to hope something that, in fact, Christianity never said. In short, it’s as if the “encounter with Christ” would be something that only serial killers and North Korean dictators manage to somewhat avoid.
It is not so.
Firstly, invincible ignorance must be invincible. It seems to me that pretty much nobody, and I mean pretty much nobody, who lives in the West and is constantly exposed to signs of Christian life can claim such invincibility. You might conceive an exception for the 72 years old grandma who came here to the UK in tow of some son or nephew working as a programmer, or fake refugee, refuses to even learn the language, and lives all day in isolation in her council house waiting to die, but I think it ends there. For all others (that is: for the vast, vast majority of those living in the West), there can be no invincible ignorance with churches still scattered everywhere. Therefore, the vast majority of your colleagues lose, unless they convert, for this reason alone.
Secondly, this invincible ignorance, in itself, does not save. It’s not that everybody who never could know the Church will be fine. If it were so, it would be better to be born, live and die as a heathen in the Amazonian forest rather than living with the desire to know, serve and love God in a Christian Country.
Grandma Nitiya in her Indian village may not even know how a church looks like, or that Christians exist. But being a heathen, she will most likely die with a multitude of mortal sins on her conscience. Granted, an extremely small minority of such grandmas (or grandpas) will have, by God’s grace, the necessary knowledge engraved in their hearts (this must include that there is only one God), and will be provided with such a goodness of heart as to not die in mortal sin; but you can see for yourself how high this bar is, and how few are those who live and die in such a way.
This is not Mundabor having a bad day. This is what Christianity has always taught. This is, also, why infant baptism exists. A world that forgets Christ readily forgets the importance of being baptised because hey, everybody with his “heart in the right place” is baptised by desire, surely?
It is important to remind ourselves of the harsh truths of God. It does not mean that we will plant ourselves on the corner of a street and cry: “Repent!!” to the passers-by, as some virtue-signalling Protestants do. We are Catholics, and we don’t go around talking to those who don’t want to listen. But what it means is that we need to be vigilant, use the virtue of Prudence and use every occasion we have to try to warn the infidels and heathens around us of what it is that the Church teaches about their eternal destiny.
How To Fake Virtue And Influence People: Vademecum For Homopedos, Glorified Whores, And Assorted Scumbags.
I had forgotten, or I had neglected, the gravity of the crimes committed by the Rosenbaum guy before he had himself taken out in Kenosha. It appears the guy was convicted for molesting five young boys aged between nine and eleven.
Let that sink in.
A person convicted in such a way has legitimately earned the title of First Class Scumbag. He will be held in contempt and considered the scum of the earth by the local drug addicts, thieves and prostitutes for the rest of his life. Normal people will advocate for his hanging from a very robust noose.
What does a guy in such a situation do? How does he recover a modicum of esteem and consideration among I do not say normal people (this ain’t happening unless in case of obvious, deeply felt conversion), but among the assorted petty criminals, thieves and bastards? The answer is clear: he becomes a leftist activist and gets a new shot at social virginity among the worst of the worst.
I see it everywhere, and I have seen this all my life. The worst student at school were those with the leftist social initiatives, clamouring for social justice and advocating communism. The actress who went (willingly, as they all do) through the casting couch, then invents social activism to hide the fact that she slept with powerful men in order to get in front of less immoral actresses, or even blathers about #metoo after successfully playing the “slut for fame” game. The rich divorcee of the billionaire will start a charity supporting social causes to gain the recognition her puffed up ego now reclaims, and make people forget she never had any special distinction or accomplishment, besides divorcing one who had it and taking a lot of his money for herself.
Leftism is the easy virtue maker for people without virtue, and the bigger the second, the harder the first. We see this at work everywhere.
You would think the media would see it. You would think it does not take a genius to discover why the Rosenbaum guy was such a hard-liner defender of people he actually despised (“n” word loudly spoken, several times, minutes before being offed). Alas, too many among the MSM have exactly the same problem!
Unsurprisingly, the most recent episode of virtue signalling by a scumbag is the tragic massacre in Wisconsin, with another guy well acquainted with the jail life, and with no prospects, decency or cleanness in himself, plunging six people to death so he can feel better with his miserable existence and gain brownie points and respect among scummy people like him.
At the root of all this is, of course, contempt for Christ. People who believe in God feel shame for sinful actions, or do not commit them in the first place. But those who despise Christ will keep piling on their iniquity and pumping up their egos in any way they can.
The stupid glorified whore, and mediocre singer, with the blasphemous name released obscene pictures of her old body just days ago, hoping to be celebrated for her “transgression” one last time; unless, that is, she does it again at 70; which, by that mentality, I cannot exclude at all. The same mechanism is at work here: sleep your way to the top, then play feminist so people forget your only talents were the horizontal ones.
Social activism as antidote to shame is everywhere around us. It should be denounced for what it is much, much more often than it is now.
Who knows, perhaps the one or other episode of self defence would be prevented.
Most people will think that, in Europe, there is no Thanksgiving and, in the obvious sense of the word, they are certainly right. However, feasts to celebrate the harvest were certainly well spread in Europe, and Catholic parts of Germany still have the Erntedankfest, which is basically the same thing.
What I think has happened is that these traditions were strictly linked to the agricultural world, and lost importance as the latter’s importance also declined.
It’s a shame, really, and it would have been wise for the Church to promote the celebration of the harvest outside of the rural, agriculture-linked world.
In my eyes, such a celebration would achieve the following objectives:
Firstly, it would focus the attention on food coming from God. Factories can’t produce wheat, and no amount of technology will cause an artificial seed to sprout and become a plant. Granted, Europe does not have the patriotic lore linked to the feast, but the fact remains.
Secondly, it would remind everyone that the availability of food is not a given. My generation grew up with tales of food scarcity (brutal at times) during the Second World War. We think we can have everything if we have credit on the card. This is not really so.
The feast could be accommodated to echo, or mimic, the dates of the feasts that were celebrated in the past, and could be a nice bridge to the upcoming Advent.
I don’t want to remake the liturgical calendar here; but I am sure these feast days were still there, and already had their own regional traditions. One would only have to rediscover them, like those traditional beers people knew were there but did not really drink anymore, before the idea to actually revive the tradition came.
Perhaps the one or other Bishop could take such an initiative, or the one or other Bishops’ Conference could appoint a day for regional celebration.
But what am I saying.
To our Bishops, what’s most most important is having you vaxxed, masked, and silenced. The idea of celebrating God’s grace would be a dangerous distraction to them.
So I’ll tell you what I’ll do. Today, I will not only take time to reflect on the many graces God has given and continues to give to me, starting from, actually, food. But I will also give thanks for having discovered the authentic Catholic Faith, notwithstanding my Bishops trying to keep it away from me.
Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers.
One of the signs of the stupidity and ignorance of our times is the total forgetfulness of what charity is. Charity is the love of neighbour that springs from the love of God, which comes above all things. It is love properly ordered and properly directed. It is love for neighbour going in the same direction as God’s love for him. It is not a childish, purely emotional “support” and “affirmation” for whatever it is other people are doing.
The mother “affirming” her homosexual son is not charitable. The father approving of her daughter living in sin with her boyfriend is not charitable. The colleagues at the office “supporting” the peer who has decided he “wants to be a woman” are not charitable. What they are is accessories in the sin of another.
An awful lot of people, nowadays, do not understand how easy it is to go to hell out of sheer, unadulterated, worldly, utterly godless, utterly uncharitable niceness.
No one should know this better than a priest, which is why the decision of the bishops of New Zealand, who not only allow, but force a priest to either “accompany” to hell a suicide or find another one who does it for them, is a very special kind of evil.
The situation is a sort or perverted echo chamber. The godlessness and demand for niceness of the (un)faithful is met with the acquiescence and complicity of cowardly and – unavoidably – godless priests. This in turn feeds more radical demands for “niceness”, which is met with more cowardice. In the end, you have priests and laity marching together to hell, but feeling very holy in the process.
I don’t know who is more culpable here (likely the priests, but you should ask a theologian); what I know is that the laity can’t be excused by the cowardice of their priests. Every adult person has the duty – particularly in this day and age, when literacy is so widespread, technical knowledge so easily acquired, and resources so readily available – to instruct himself about how things really stand; nor will anyone be able to say, on judgment day, that the rants of Father Shrill McFaggot and his calls to “accompaniment” rang so true. God gives to everyone enough sense to understand fake currency. Anybody who accepts the Devil’s currency to the end will have to spend eternity in the Devil’s economy.
Your grandma knew this. Your grand-uncle would have looked at you in a strange way – if particularly charitable, perhaps he would have slapped you – for even trying to defend this strange religion of niceness. Every illiterate peasant, 150 years ago, would have understood all of this without any difficulty. It is only today, in an age of unprecedented wealth and access to information, that people actually choose not to know it. This includes countless oh so dumb, and I mean d.u.m.b., PhDs with a total lack of common sense and basic decency.
The fake currency of niceness is all around us. Don’t be fooled by it, because it leads to spiritual ruin.
It isn’t a very genial prediction that heartbeat laws and similar legislative instruments will be very big in the coming years. The Supreme Court will strike down the first variants, but I have no doubts that new versions will keep popping in to keep the cowards under pressure. As I have already written, this battle needs to be won outside of the courts first.
In my eyes, one aspect that has not been sufficiently explored is the orphanage system. It’s as if the mother were in front of the alternative between killing her own baby or being “burdened” (I know…) with him.
This has never been so and, actually, should not be so. For countless generations, unwanted children were raised in orphanages and monasteries or other religious institutions. The mothers deposited the children on a “wheel”, or took care the institution got the baby, and that was that. No questions asked, no DNA tests, no social workers army, no illusory pursuits of deadbeat “fathers” peddling marijuana on street corners.
This is the way it worked in Italy. Christian charity or efficient government structures, not wasteful, tax-subsidised busybodying, took care of the children. The double scandal of a child raised 1) by a single mother outside of wedlock, 2) at taxpayer’s expense and 3) on the street without any proper guidance, was not allowed. The mother herself, if so inclined, saw the unbloody end of her “burden”. The child received a Christian education.
Every Italian of a certain age will tell you how big orphanages used to be, and how proud the Country was of them. The system worked. The money for children was there, as it has always been with or without government involvement. The public purse was not used to give scandal, or to encourage professional single motherhood.
This is, I think, the alternative to abortion that should be presented and insisted upon. It’s not abortion or single motherhood. In fact, this should be positively avoided. It’s a) a heinous crime or b) “free” after nine months!
Also, the pro-life movement should push for a legal environment that encourages and makes possible to use a modern version of the “wheel”, even without any taxpayer subsidy. There would be no shortage of money to make these structure works; and, being private structures, they would work well at a fraction of the costs of many a public council.
Such an initiative was tried in Germany years ago. It failed, because the Goebbelsian, all-invading control of German society cannot tolerate that a child lives in a different way that Dr Goebbels decided it’s fitting.
I think this is a promising avenue for the pro-life movement. It would greatly help the perception of a post-abortion society. It would be attractive to fiscally conservative, albeit socially tragically liberal, pro-abortionists. It would promise a world where the chain of multi generational scrounging is broken. It would create an environment where children can be raised properly, with both a spine and a suitable religious guidance.
I think there should be much, much more talk about this.
Some time ago, I stumbled upon an old documentary on Youtube which I found, 43 years after it was made, fascinating to watch. I have fished it back and link to it above.
The issues are the same we have today: a godless existence makes one completely focused on oneself; the “spiritual” search which then begins rapidly becomes, as it must always be when God is out of the equation, a mad rush towards total selfishness and, possibly, self-destruction.
The background is a wealthy, extremely scenic, apparently idyllic county just north of San Francisco. Lots of money; lots of divorces; lots of alcoholism; lots of shrinks; lots of suicides.
Several stories are illustrated here: from the milder case of search of a spiritual meaning to one’s life, which the church clearly cannot convey anymore, to much harder cases of self-devouring self-centredness. From the Chicago couple with the wannabe cuck dad to the rich women looking for semi-erotic (for a woman, probably fully-erotic) sensual “all-selfish” experience, to the tragic case of the wealthy (obviously, divorced) mother of four ridiculed by her own children for her teenage rebellion and total lack of motherhood and responsibility, we see all the spectrum of behaviours that are adopted when one’s life becomes disconnected from God. I know, connecting one with God should be the job of the Church; a job at which the Church has now been failing tragically for many decades.
The mother of four is, if you ask me, the most tragic example of this mad rush to egotistic self-satisfaction, but I’d say the rot is widespread. Still, the mother of four who doesn’t want to be a mother anymore (a shocking thinking, totally alien to Italians, where a mother of 100 still mothers her daughter of 75 like it’s the most normal thing in the world, because it actually is) was, to me, the shocker and real eye-opener.
The theory of the documentary is that this wealthy but shallow, rudderless, hippy-infested region in 1978 could become Middle America in a not too distant future. 43 years later, it is fair to say that whilst the extreme cases still look extreme, and the self-absorbed behaviour still looks self-absorbed, we can clearly detect from the obviously critical tones of the documentary presenter that the same mentality that seemed destructive to him in 1978 has many elements of “normality” in 2021; a year when, no doubt, such a documentary would doubtlessly include some same-sex, revolting “couple” of sort. No, in some respects it has not become as bad as the presented feared (family values are still strong in the sane part of America); but yes, in other respects it has become much worse than it was in 1978, when a lot of adults and young parents still had some sense transmitted to them by their own ancestors.
I suggest you find the time to watch, and to reflect on what happens when the Church goes AWOL.
It’s difficult to watch this and not cry.
I invite my readers to say a prayer of thanksgiving for this beautiful, beautiful outcome.
However, this is only the start. I hope this young man will sue the MSM and all the politicians who have mercilessly slandered him out of existence. Still, make no mistake: no amount of money (which will be huge) will compensate him sufficiently for the trial he had to endure and the virtual lynching of the leftists press.
Boy, this feels good.
I was born in a fairly poor, but very thrifty family. From the youngest age, I had a knack for setting aside, and thinking of the future. My parents’ example and encouragement resonated with me. What I heard at school (the ant and the cicada, and the day of saving) also made an impression on me. In short, I always liked savings.
As I grew older and became an adult, I became more acquainted with the concept of investment. As you can understand already, it matched beautifully with what I already liked. Looking back now, I think that I have been a wise investor.
You have, probably, already understood where I am going here. Now firmly in the autumn of my life, I am, once again, applying my natural instinct for savings and investments to my eternal life and, in the first instance, to the Rosary.
I see my daily rosary – not in abstract, as a construct of my mind, but very instinctively – as daily savings. I actually see myself, very often, as that child who put his 100 lire coin in his little piggy bank, knowing that one coin alone would not be much, but time and patience would make the content of the piggy bank grow. You may say that cento lire was not much, and that a Rosary is not much; but, in the one as in the other case, it’s the patience, the humility, and the time that actually count.
As I look, now, back to 13 years of daily rosary, I see my practice – and the practice of prayer – as more than cash savings, but as investments. Firstly, it seems to me that all these rosaries have, slowly but steadily, changed my outlook on life. It seems to me that, if a doctor were to give me six or eight months to live, all those rosaries, and much more than the sum total of them, would help me in that difficult hours. It seems to me that I could look at them as an investment which, in the years, grew well and gave me a very satisfactory yield.
Still, much more important than the earthly yield is the heavenly one. Salvation is, in the end, the only thing that counts in my life. If I achieve it, I am – by God’s grace – an infinite success. If I don’t, I am – through my own fault – an infinite failure. The part that the daily rosary plays in my – hoped for, and by God’s grace – salvation is certainly such, that the yield I get from it – and I don’t mean “in a lifetime”, but every day – is simply staggering. Every day, my best savings and my most lucrative investments are what I put in my heavenly savings and brokerage account. They compound at an infinite yearly rate. They are an infinitely more brilliant investment than massively buying Apple, or Microsoft, at IPO and keeping all the shares since.
I invite you to think of your Rosary in the same way. Less than twenty minutes a day will, with patience and humility, yield wonderful results. Imagine being a Bill Gates or Jeff Bezos, and being in hell, but painfully aware of those like you, supernaturally happy forever.
Be the wisest investor there is.
Invest in the daily Rosary.
One of the ways with which the devil tries to take us away from Christ and destroy our charity is envy.
Envy is, I think, at the root of Francis’ whole miserable career.
Born in a Country that did not give him many opportunities, without money and without connections, the man looked forward to a modest existence, nor would his degree in chemistry give him a fraction of the opportunities he would have had in the United States. Lower middle class, and perhaps impoverished lower middle class, was his more likely bet. If you have always lived in the US, you have so many opportunities you likely have no idea how it is elsewhere.
I think the man saw this. He saw a future made of a very simple, constrained life. He saw that he did not have any special virtue extolling him from his peers: no vivid intelligence, no great ambition, no desire to work hard, not even class or distinction.
Possibly a homosexual, he might never have had the desire of finding a good girl with whom to share life, joys, sadness, and sacrifices for their offspring. If a straight young man, he must have looked with horror at a life in poverty, caring for his children.
We know his parents were poor immigrants from Italy, and the man boasted of his father’s “antifascism”. I make an easy call here: little Jorge grew up in a leftist household, resentful of its poverty and of everybody else; resentful of the Church, too, as many of these people are.
Our young man decides that – homo or not – he will not live his parents’ existence. He wants, instead, be part of a respected, well cared-for organisation. He wants to have a comfortable existence without dire existential fears. He knows a Jesuit would not live badly, all things considered.
The – easily evinced – anticlericalism in the family makes the project difficult to pursue. So he lies to his mother for years as he scrounges from her the money for his secret project, whilst Mama Bergoglio makes sacrifices, thinking of a future medical doctor, then suddenly finds a Jesuit in her home.
Francis is now comfortably set up for life, but not less resentful. He merely found a way to keep afloat in a system he keeps hating. He is now set for life, and free to harbour in his heart all the resentment he wants. Liar and envious, he was already; but now he has more time to hate, then there are no children asking for new shoes.
Life goes on, but it slowly takes a, for him, unexpected turn. A man without qualities or virtues, but one of in the meantime fewer and fewer Jesuits, he finds himself slowly pushed up, like a faceless turd in a Jesuit lake. Seminary director (unbelievably), then Bishop, then Cardinal, Bergoglio is the choice when a grey man is desired. But he is clearly V II. Perhaps he has homo connections. Certainly, he is seen as the useful idiot homos would well use.
He almost rises to the top in 2005, then his friends manage to put him in the top spot in 2013.
Still resentful, still envious, still socialist, still atheist, the man finds himself, now, free to indulge in his pettiness, in his boorishness, in his arrogance without fear of consequences. He soon starts taking revenge of those who cross him (FFI) and lies shamelessly about it (“soon, soon!”). His hate for Christ and the Blessed Virgin now becomes very apparent. He enjoys showing it, just as he enjoys berating and belittling those faithful Catholics he always hated; those who can be poor and happy as he never could; those with a hope, a love, a warmth in their heart he never had.
The rest is known to us all. A lewd, old man, and very possibly a pervert, enjoying the way he ruffles the feathers of those Catholics he always hated.
A life determined and dominated by envy and its unavoidable companions, resentment and hatred.
This is Jorge Bergoglio in a nutshell.
Next month, the Supreme Court will hear the case of the Texan Heartbeat Bill. I have said before, and repeat now, that I am not expecting a positive outcome. We have already seen during the Great Steal that the Supreme Court is not even in a position to counter obvious election fraud, so they’re not going to stop a genocide, either.
Still, we need to learn how to fight these battles from our enemies. They don’t get tired of losing. The promoters of sodomy were not fazed at all that they were losing referendums about it. In fact, they lost 38 out of 38, and they still went on. When they found a way (activist judges) they carried this up to the Supreme Court; which, at that point, was too weak to resist the riding tide of leftist perversion.
We need to put in place a similar mechanism. Yes, this battle will be lost. But if images of babies in the womb get into most American houses, this will have done a lot to slowly, but surely, change the climate around baby killing. This can be done with YouTube videos (I have posted one weeks ago), internet sites and, next years, Truth Social.
Another vehicle is to start publishing more and more stories of women who regret their abortion, or committed suicide in their old age because of an abortion decades later (yes, this is “a thing” now, a previously unknown phenomenon which is assuming alarming proportions). The “empowered woman” narrative needs to be countered with some sobering reality. in time, it will not fail to work.
I would also like more, ahem, “feminine perspective” around the issue. “I thought I would be empowered, now I am just an old slut”-type of stories. No doubt, millions of women will identify with the former slut who is now “transparent to men”, and will start wondering whether this is real liberation, or slavery to a world without God, piety, or decency.
Another, very effective way would be the systematic shifting in language. Perverts have kept saying “gay” for “perverts” for decades, uncaring of mockery and disgust, until the use has become so mainstream that even the likes of Breitbart now use it. We must do the same with Babykilling, then the word “abortion” is not evocative enough.
Of course, an important element in this would be the US Bishops starting to roar from the pulpits and the newspapers; unfortunately, kitten can’t roar, and you should not expect any help, bar one or two exceptions, from that bunch of cowards, atheists, and perverts. The fight will not be fought with the church hierarchy. It will, at least in the US, be fought against its desire to do anything against it. Every promoter of mass slaughter of unborn babies will walk and receive communion in front of the camera (even a monstrous looking dyke like the Mayor of Chicago, Lady Frankenstein Chicongo, I am told, but I didn’t have the heart to check…). If you say anything, you will be called “divisive”. It is what it is. Forget those hirelings. They are of no use.
Then we have prayer, and penance. We have the Rosary. We have Our Lady. We have the Saints and the Angels. We have God. Believe me, all this is better than Facebook.
We will lose this battle. But we will use it to gain some ground in the ongoing war. At the appointed time, and by God’s grace, things will start going in the right direction.
What we must do, is to never get tired of losing.
Far too early, as every year, the Christmas Drums have begun to roll. As every year, they will be heard by a lot of people to whom this period is simply “the holidays”.
This is, I think, where a good Warrior Ant can do his job in little things. Language is a weapon, and a very powerful one at that. I suggest we make a conscious effort to use it properly.
I invariably use the word “Christmas”, never “the holidays” or the like. When someone uses the word “holidays” with me, I candidly ask what he means by it. When he answers Christmas, he is being re-conditioned without even noticing.
Then there is the greeting stuff. A heartfelt “Merry Christmas!” to a colleague or acquaintance, to the cashier lady or the waiter at the pub, will give another little contribution.
Nor should you be PC in spreading the word. The Muslim cashier should get her Merry Christmas with a particularly broad smile. Who knows, it could be the beginning of something, or another little occasion to actually reflect.
I also try to spread the word in other ways. For example, in the office I will say “let’s do this after Advent begins”, pretending that Advent is common knowledge and understood by all. Then I explain, and at that point my interlocutor knows, at a deep level he does not realise, that there is more to Christmas than vapid XXI Century jingles on TV.
I am sure you’ll have other ideas, but you get the drift. It is shocking to think in what godless times we live.
Let’s put some more Christ in people’s lives, and even if in small, little ways. These little ways count, as our adversaries have shown.
Father Altman seems to have taken some inspiration from a much worse man than he is, as he has delivered a nine minutes homily of, if you allow the immodest comparison, clearly Mundaborian tones. Again, away from me the idea of even beginning to compare myself to a man of such moral stature, but it’s a joy to me to see that this good man of God and myself share, at least, the same communication style.
Father Altman is refreshingly brutal. He points out that the rot is not just limited to Francis (follow the link and read what Father thinks of him…) , but extends to almost all US Bishops, with only one exception.
I invite you to follow the link and read for yourselves. In doing so, I invite you to reflect on the following:
First: Father’s outrage, which is certainly the fruit of careful deliberation, is the result of the countless provocations of the bishops in almost every aspect of daily life. Wet kitten on abortion, wet kitten on politicians who support it, wet kitten on perversion, on lockdowns and on vaccination, these useless “yes men” make the work of the devil at every step, shy away from every fight, and don’t miss any occasion to openly side with the world, against their own faithful. It is, therefore, only fitting that their betrayal be made brutally clear to everyone who has ears to hear.
Second: the location from which Father Altman delivered his sermon is highly symbolic, as it was the other side of the road from the location where the Bishops are gathering. There is no better way to give a very concrete, factual and visual representation of a new reality: the faithful have had enough, and they are now openly standing in front of their own bishops and accusing them of betraying their sheep and the faith.
A lion here, a lot of kitten there. Their mitre will become their millstone, because as bishops their responsibility is so much bigger than the one of the quisque de populo who, out of tepid faith or weakness of heart, start using the word “gay” to mean “pervert”, and has no heart to seriously confront his daughter about her giving scandal and living in sin.
May God bless Father Altman, and may all the kitten sincerely repent or pay the infinite price of their immense insolence.
The US Bishops are gathering to discuss how to “revive belief in the Eucharist”.
There will be a lot of talk. I am sure that the “Spirit” will be mentioned very often. We will be treated to a lot of references to very august personalities of the Church in the last five decades or so. I am pretty sure that there will be the usual attempts at social justice derailment.
But in all of this, a question will, I think, not be posed: why is there any need to revive belief in the Eucharist in the first place? This question will not be posed, because to pose the question is to have the answer.
The Bishops will do a lot of Francisblathering, and by doing so they will omit to mention some simple facts: that the belief in the Eucharist started to dwindle when the Church abandoned the Traditional Latin Mass, and that the best way to revive the faith in the Eucharist is to revive the TLM itself.
Alas, this obvious consideration will not be heard much, and very likely not at all, among the church personalities gathered together. The problem is, that their very own Clown In Chief is an outspoken enemy of the solution, which might therefore not be mentioned at all. They, themselves, don’t seem to care; because if they would, you would see dozen of prominent politicians, starting from Thief Demented In Chief, refused the Eucharist.
The drug dealer does not want to hear about solutions to the issue of drug addiction, either.
Francis is our drug dealer. Instead of heroin, he peddles heresy, contempt for the Sacraments, hate for the Church, and a Marxist agenda barely hidden behind the environmental drivel.
Alas, we might have to live with this guy for a while, as I have written just yesterday that I have ceased hoping that a cancer would rid us of this… cancer in the short term. Yes, God can cut him down at any time; but chances are, he will be clowning for a while still.
When Francis is gone, and we get a Pope who is, at least superficially, Catholic and intentioned to do something sensible, then there will be some hope that the discussion about the Eucharist goes in the right direction.
Until then, we will only have blabla, whilst Biden and his ilk are actually allowed to commit sacrilege, and almost no one of these people talking about the “Spirit” actually care.
Well, today we are officially in Mid-November and I must say that, months after the famous operation that would have found several cancers, a certain ass is still alive, braying and kicking like it’s Fidel Castro Day at the Argentinian Communist Party.
I am not a medical doctor. Still, I will, from today, stop hoping for a quick end of this particular problem. It seems to me that, if the situation had been the rumoured one, we would have seen *much more* than postponed travels (I have written about it), which could be due to old-fashioned laziness or, in the case of COP26, desire not to share the limelight with the others.
We would (I think) have seen a multiplication of the rumours, with more and more details coming up every week. We would have seen the Clown visibly tired, wasted away, possibly thinner, but certainly different physically, in his demeanour, in his walk, in his voice.
Alas, nothing has changed.
I would have liked that funeral.
The Evil Clown got so much wrong yesterday that I decided to dedicate a blog post to showing the difference between him and an, actually, Catholic Pope. The link is here. Let us start:
Heaven on earth.
This was weird, or worse. Of course there is, in Christianity, a sort of correspondence between earth and heaven. “Thy Will be done on earth as it is in heaven”. There is an earthly and a heavenly Jerusalem. There are all sorts of connections. But it was never the task of the Church to create heaven on earth. This is what the Communist and other godless ideologies do. It’s not only that the poor will always be with us. It is, more in general, that the fact that earth has all sorts of problems it’s not a bug, it’s a feature. Injustice, abuse, famine, pestilence, disease, poverty, and many other ailments and evils are either willed or allowed by God so that we may focus our gaze on Him above, not on earthly things below. I was, yesterday, re-reading Garrigou-Lagrange, and there was this beautiful comparison with the night: when night comes in our life, it seems traumatic at first, but it allows us to see the starry sky we could not see when the sun was shining. We get, through our suffering and our abandonment to Divine Providence, a whole new perspective. The day we die, we are unlikely to desire that that night had never come in our life, because we see the richer perspective it gave us, the way it made us growth spiritually. Whatever nights Francis had in his life, they do not seem to have profited him much; because without faith, life lessons are wasted and become the occasion for resentment.
Christ is present in the poor.
Christ is present in the rich, too. Great saints were born in rich families. Saint Catherine of Siena was born from a prosperous merchant family. St Bridget of Sweden was born in a family of extremely rich landowners (and papa was governor of an entire province). Thomas Aquinas was, if memory serves, a relative of two Emperors, and an uncle was the Abbot in Montecassino (which means, one of the most powerful personalities in Italy at the time); the latter was, actually, the job papa had planned for him when his vocation became clear; go figure! Saint Francis Borgia was born a future Duke.
Plus, the usual rubbish Francis can’t avoid excrementing away. “Integral ecology” means “socialism with the excuse of the environment”. I never heard “integral ecology” in the Bible. I don’t think it’s my lack of knowledge.
World day of this and that.
The Evil Clown reminded us today that it was the Fifth World Day of the Poor. This genius probably never asked himself why there never was a world day of the poor promoted by the Church. The Church has a day of all saints, a day of all souls, but no day of the poor. We are, in fact, merely at the fifth edition of this new, boringly unremarkable, utterly predictable, non-religious day. Francis must think that the Church slept on this for 2000 years, until the UN came to the rescue. Francis also reminds us that this is, also – boy, the worldly calendar of festivities is getting complicated… – the World Diabetes Day. Again, when has the Church remembered Diabetes with a day? Does this guy not know that the Church directs the attention on the Saints, so that they may serve as example and encouragement for the faithful?
The Catholic saints for the day for 14th November are here.
No, Frankie dear.
No mention of poverty, or diabetes.
Today, I am thankful to the Evil Clown. I really am.
I have read about his latest climate bullying, and his veiled threat of hell to all those sensible people who do not believe any of the nonsense. I had a sense of hope and elation.
The utter stupidity of this man, his arrogance, his boorishness, his total lack of Sensus Catholicus and of, actually, sense, must open eyes every day. Every day, some distracted, milquetoast V II Catholic must get past the point at which this man is simply tossed away (like an obnoxious background noise we automatically shut out at the start) and the serious reflection starts, “what the heck is this guy saying?” Granted, it takes a lot of Francisstunts for your average Milquetoast Guy to get there, but I am confident more and more do open their eyes every day.
Oh, wonderful work of Providence! How many graces God pours on us every day, exactly by way of this evil tool of Satan! How rich in irony is God’s work!
God turns every evil into something good. The Reprobates will damn themselves of their volition anyway. This boorish, stupid tool will, exactly with his own boorishness and stupidity, unwittingly do God’s work even as he rants and tries to propagate his evil, worldly, deviant pseudo doctrine. Many Elects are getting out of their slumber and opening their eyes exactly because of the circus they see in front of their eyes.
Next time this individual makes headlines with some stupid stunt, I recommend that you take a breath, get some distance, look at the events from the perspective I have just described, and go on with your life with a wry smile of satisfaction.
Francis can only give some rope to those who want to hang themselves. God will take care that not one of the Elect is lost.
Put on your red nose, Francis.
Make us laugh.
It does not need a genius to understand that, following TC and the thuggish attitude of Francis and his Evil Minions (talking to you, Cardinal Roche) a number, perhaps dozen, perhaps hundreds of priests will ask the SSPX to be allowed in.
It is, of course, important that both the risk of infiltration and the risk of watering down are avoided. I remind you here that the FSSP was created exactly in order to suffocate the SSPX and make it die.
In my eyes, the solution to this is what I would call the Society Of Blessed Pius IX.
This Society should be 100% controlled by the SSPX, which would own all real estate, cash, investments, trademarks etc. and would have disciplinary power over the members of the SSPIX. This would take care of the issues above. Every sincere priest would find the change resembling paradise after dealing with his V II Bishop. imagine, homilies where you don’t have to carefully balance every word, and are allowed to say that people actually go to hell in huge numbers…
The SSPIX would start a big donations drive, which would, unavoidably, be wildly successful. This would lead to the establishment, in just a few years, of hundreds of new chapels to which the Vatican would have no TLM to oppose, because the old traditionalist orders have been castrated par ordre du mufti . These chapels would be a thorn in the side of the Francisthugs all over the West.
The priests of the SSPIX would be freed of all the rubbish they have to deal now. No parish committees and the likes. The priest celebrates mass, hears confession, administers the sacraments full time. Breviary scrupulously followed. Vespers and Co. The works.
The same chapels of the SSPX could be used whenever practical. Imagine many of these chapels offering 5,6,7 masses every Sunday, many with the confessional running, as in the good old times!
The Masses would be all full. People would come from far away. The news would spread like wildfire. Meanwhile, Father Oestrogen will mildly remind his 3, heavily tattooed sheep of how much better it is to smell like them, as their beloved Evil Clown says.
A separate structure would make it very easy to raise funds (because the assets are protected and the priests are already there), and to protect orthodoxy (because the membership in the SSPX is not diluted). It would allow a great increase, possibly a multiplication, of available TLMs in just a short time, and a vast increase in reach when the new structures are built. It would make it easier to slap (figuratively, of course; because we are so, so nice) Francis in the face every single day, as that unspeakable scoundrel so much deserves.
It seems a good idea to me.
I hope, and I think, that at some point something of the sort is going to happen; because when a SSPIX is established, I think they’ll have dozen of candidates in a matter of weeks, and several thousands in a decade or less.
The Vicariato di Roma has just announced that, during the 2022 Triduum, there will be no TL masses. Interestingly, this includes the Fraternity of Saint Peter, which goes to show what happens when you want to eat your cake and have it.
Why the Triduum? My take is that an awful lot of people go to Mass at Easter and Christmas that otherwise don’t, though at Christmas this year many once a year churchgoers will likely decide to pass. Come Easter, many of those once a year people might have decided to actually do the Latin thing. The result? Absolutely packed TL churches, whilst Father Sissy in the nearby NO Church preaches about inclusiveness and the greatness of Francis Of The Wheelchair. But perhaps I am wrong and there are other reasons.
Of course, of course this is only the start. The Triduum will come and go, and then more restrictions will be imposed, at least as long as Francis is breathing.
The question poses itself how to react to this. Frankly, if I lived in Rome my patience would be very hard at the breaking point here. I would be severely tempted to write to the Vicar and tell him that I will not attend a NO Mass, not ever, until the war against the TLM ends.
“Dear Evil Bishop, Your DisGrace, whatever,
Your edict moved me to approach, for the first time, an SSPX chapel. The very friendly, Catholic priest over there told me that the NO – which I had been attending up to then – is actually bad, and he suggested I only attend a Traditional Mass. I found his arguments for the TLM compelling and from now on will attend at an SSPX chapel or, as I live pretty far from their chapels, carry out the spiritual activities Father has recommended.
Your NO Mass, I will not touch anymore.
In fact, dear whatever, I am almost grateful for what you have done; because without it, I would never have discovered the beauty of the Catholic Tradition and the great zeal of the Society. I will pray for you, but let me tell you that your situation is pretty darn serious.
Best regards etc”
I am not sure this is the best course to follow (the attendance I mean, not the letter), but I sure wish His Whatever would receive many letters like this one from people who have actually decided that this is, in fact, the best course to follow.
One thing I know: after TC the rules of the game have changed, and we are called to protect the Mass of the Ages in ways not practiced before, because the attack of the Church on her own Mass is lacking precedents in exactly the same way.
Before ditching the TLM, we will ditch Cardinal Roche and the Vicar in the Tiber.
We won’t do either of course, but you get my drift.
And it came to pass that the interesting laboratory of nutcases, hippies and homeless called Portland, OR decided that if a woman gets rid of her “clump of cells” she is entitled to bereavement: 3 days at home, courtesy of the taxpayer, to reflect on how many liberated women will share hell with them; unless they repent, of course, which seems inconceivable considering that they would have to share something with those Patriarchy-affirming White Supremacists. The article is on Life Site News but I can’t link to it now.
The hypocrisy is, in fact, breathtaking. The excuses are also funny: how will this initiative “de-stigmatise “ abortion? Will not everyone who stigmatise the abortion without the scrounging and the hypocrisy stigmatise it even more when Ms Williams also gets a good part of the week free and poses as a martyr for her own murder? It would, they say, make it “easier” to say to one’s boss that one has killed her baby in the womb. How so? “Sorry Boss, yesterday I have killed my baby. Please give me sympathy and three free days, will you?” It really is something you would expect in Portland, OR.
However, at the end of all the posturing, the wokeism, the feminism and the sensitiviteee, one brutal truth emerges: killing ain’t easy, and killing one’s own baby in the womb is sure to have one’s conscience screaming so loud it would cover one of those legendary Biden farts.
Torn between conscience and convenience, a woman may well manage, in her young years, when the image of end of fun, end of career and/or end of independence is enough to persuade her to proceed to the killing, that it “had to be”. She will, likely, start blathering about “reproductive choice”, desperately using fake language to hide a slow mounting desperation that becomes more real, more evident, more pressing, more oppressive every year. But her conscience will not leave her alone and, at some point, the realisation of the atrocious nature of her action (or actions, in many cases!) will seriously threaten to crush her under its unbearable weight; until either sincere repentance and Christ or, more likely, quiet desperation, and perhaps suicide, follow.
All this is, in some quarter, destigmatised with free days out of work.
Our descendants in 100 or 300 years will look at us, and wonder how we could criticise the Gulags and the Holocaust with a straight face.
The Diocese of Denver has “warned” their faithful from attending Mass at a chapel of the SSPX. Some people really are tone deaf.
Such an appeal would have been dumb enough in normal times. People don’t attend at the SSPX chapel because they happen to be in the neighbourhood. They attend there because the TLM gives them a nourishment the Novus Ordo never could, and they want to give witness of sound Catholicism in the time of Francis.
The dumbness becomes, then, absolutely idiotic if you consider that we live in TC times, when Vatican thugs tell you that the TLM is divisive and they will shut down as many of them as they can. It’s quite amazing that a Bishop can be so tone-deaf, or so incompetent, or so outright, well, stupid that he does not understand that the attendance at any SSPX chapel is as assured and deliberate now as it ever was.
On the contrary, such “appeals” coming from the same V II church that is now clearly working against her own faithful in any way she can will only reinforce the popularity of the Society.
I would like to make the contrary appeal to the faithful of the Diocese of Denver: if at all reasonably practical, ditch the Diocese and its V II mass and attend at the SSPX. Send there all your friends and all your donations, too! If the Bishop allows some TLM there – likely, because the competition of the SSPX is there – you may want to make an exception for the TLM masses, but for them only.
Who knows, when the music get strident enough even those extremely tone deaf bishops might begin to understand that something is very wrong with their attitude, and they need to start cleaning up their shop.
I am not even interested here if this Diocese is not one of the worst ones. If they attack Tradition in every form, they should get what’s coming to them.
After TC there is no “good bishop who doesn’t really like the SSPX” anymore.
You defend Tradition, or you are against us.
I have many, many times explained to my reader that this obsession with emissions is quite absurd, that climate has always changed and that it will always change.
But today, I must say I was taken aback.
Today, I knew of an emission that was really, really problematic.
I cannot see in this an “accident”, like the “trousers accident” (aka (shitting one’s pants) that is rumoured to have happened to Dementia Joe when he was in company with Francis (of course, Francis’ sight causes one to want to defecate, so there would be attenuating circumstances there).
This here looks more like a willed, “emphatic” breach of protocol, a personal offence to Camilla and to the Royal House and, by extension, to the United Kingdom.
This is obvious, to me, both by the fact that Biden is, however demented, not so demented that he does not know when his fart is getting similar to a proclamation, and by the rather unusual fact of a member of the royal family clearly wanting that such an episode be known. For those of you out there who aren’t specialist, the redheaded cretin (can’t remember the name now) and his woke wife (can’t remember hers, either) were, emphatically, *not* representative of a clan whose job is exactly to represent the Country and to, therefore, adhere to the usual standards of diplomacy.
It is said that some people, in their old age, get more spiteful, petty or revengeful. I think Dementia Joe didn’t like the woman one bit, and wanted her to know, and smell, his opinion just as a stubborn occupier of a nursing home would do. Clearly, the UK Government doesn’t want to make of this a diplomatic incident. But what they do, is letting the world know what kind of guy this one is, straight from the future Queen.
I don’t see necessarily a problem in the fact of the fart. The man is old, at times demented, petty, fatuous, and evidently smelly.
But I see a problem in the absence of the nursing home; something the Regime Media will never tell you, of course.
Really, Truth Social cannot come one day too soon.
I have tried not to write about this, because it truly makes me sick. However, this is getting worse.
This is nothing less than satanical behaviour. Twice.
The first satanical behaviour is a priest standing near a guy who has chosen to commit suicide and blather about God’s mercy; God’s mercy *will not be forthcoming*, the decision to murder oneself having been, obviously, well-thought and deliberate.
The second satanical behaviour is the demand that a priest who – believing in God – refuses to have any part in this monstrosity should be obliged to participate in it anyway by finding a godless priest who actually wants to “accompany” the suicide and himself to hell.
Now, I don’t think I have many V II milquetoast soy readers on this blog; but if I had they would, I am sure, try to find some “merciful” escapes that avoid conflict and keep everybody happy, which is what the “perhaps Francis is badly advised”-crowd always does. Their Catholicism is full of what ifs and excuses their heads are only too ready to fabricate.
“Should not the priest accompany the suicide at every step and, with his presence, try to dissuade him not to kill himself?”
No. Does the priest accompany the hit man on his way to his target and, with his presence, try to dissuade him from carrying out his murder? On the contrary, it is the absence of the priest, his refusal to be there with the suicide, that will speak louder.
“What if the suicide repents at the last moment, when it’s too late to reverse the process?”
Do you think God is so easily fooled? Do you think that the guy who throws himself out of a bridge planning in advance to repent whilst he is mid-air has many chances to get mercy? And even if that is so (and I doubt it is so; but humour me for a moment… ), would not the refusal of the priest to have any part in the suicide’s journey to hell actually be what prompt a sincere repentance in the first place? Lastly, if, for any reason, God decides to save that soul because it really, in those seconds after the point of no return, his conscience manages a sincere repentance, then it is not necessary for the priest to have given scandal by standing near him. Not should this guy get a requiem mass, or burial in consecrated ground, etc.
“But perhaps the poor man has been bullied into choosing euthanasia, like the Nazis did in the Thirties?”
If the priest suspects that this is the case, the priest must not go to the bed of the suicide, but to the police. In any other case, it is not for the priest to become Father Poirot and start an undercover investigation into the dark world of the godless, whilst giving scandal for all the world to see. Besides, a Christian does not consent to offing himself, ever.
The last reflection is for the bishops who have authorised such abomination. My thoughts go to their late mothers and, as I think of what their profession might have been, only one spontaneously comes to mind.
I might not be right literally. I am pretty sure I am right figuratively.
There is no amount of “accompanying” that can ever, ever justify *this*. These people are of the devil.
They have chosen their reward.
We are informed that priestly vocation in Italy are decreasing sharply (almost 30% in a decade). What a surprise, eh? I think I know why.
Now let us imagine you are a young boy with a strong faith and some vague inkling that the best use of your life is actually giving it to Christ. You would, first, be discouraged by the fact that, let us speak frankly here, the figure of the priest is not very manly anymore. When the priest was seen as a man’s man, and a person of authority in his local community, vocation and manliness went hand in hand. But if the priest is seen as a loser of dubious virility, many will just not be put in that box. Similarly, such a boy is unlikely to have a manly priest near him. I must say I see shockingly few around me. Even with a strong vocation, it must be cool and manly to be a priest.
Our young man is, however, stronger than that, and applies for the seminary anyway. He will likely be rejected if he is found to be “rigid”, that is, Catholic. There go a number of vocations, straight off the bat.
But let us say our guy makes it. Once inside, he is not unlikely to discover that many of his colleagues are on the high-pitched side, others are rumoured to be homosexual, and a couple or more are actually known sodomites. He’ll soon learn that it is very “rigid” to touch the topic, and he should trust that his superiors have everything in hand. He will also be exposed to heretical teaching. Doubting will be cool. Questioning will be cool. Being Catholic will not be cool at all.
But hey, our guy is very smart and has decided he will get through the Valley of Death because he wants to be a good priest. That’s where the real problems begin.
Father Guy will soon discover that he has to do with a number of lay committees, filled with sanctimonious busybodies who did not smoke enough forbidden substances in the Sixties and Sixties to die. Being, at this point, highly trained in these matters, he will soon realise that a couple of progressive harridans have already targeted him for a complaint to the Bishop. Father Guy is rigid, they will say. Not inclusive. Insensitive. Pelagian! He is just the contrary of what the Future Saint Francis Of the Blessed Wheelchair wants from a priest! One wrong homily, one “upset” parishioner, one “rigid” remark, and the circus will start.
The Bishop will have a chat a first time, then a second and then a third. He will explain to him that “insensitive” topics should be avoided, and Mrs Thornycroft should not have to “cry” just because her son, who is oh so loving, is “gay”. Father Guy will learn that he is supposed to “accompany” the faithful, not upset them. Upsetting people is not very pastoral, you know… He will be told that he should smell a bit more, like his sheep…
I don’t blame the young guy for not wanting to become Father Guy, vocation and all.
Not everybody wants to become the martyr of Mrs Thornycroft, who did not want to be upset and cry.
I begin to suspect that some people think that the US Supreme Court might really uphold the Texas Heartbeat Bill and put a huge dent in the Holocaust Industry in the United States.
I don’t think this is going to happen.
What I have seen of the SCOTUS all through history is that they were never immune from political influence. After the Secession War, they approved restrictions of the Second Amendment because they were afraid, and wanted to punish, Confederate veterans. They allowed abortions because they had no balls and no will to oppose the mounting tide of babykillers. They decided, very recently, that the Founding Fathers actually wanted a Country where perversion is protected, they merely never knew it. Also recently, Roberts decided Obamacare is actually a tax in order to not have to strike it down. It’s just the way it goes, and the more controversial the issue, the more the political pressure is felt. T
he most striking example of this is merely months old: the Supreme Court refusing to intervene in the most blatant vote manipulation ever seen in a functioning (up to then) democracy.
The same Justices who were not able to defend the Country from 100 ballot fraudsters will not have the guts to defend unborn babies from 900000 murderous women a year, all the industry around them, and all the ideology that goes with them.
The way forward is, in my opinion, not pretending that this influence does not exist, but making it work for us.
The anti-abortion sentiment in the US must grow to the point where the Supreme Court feels that they have to put an end to it, lest they lose invitations to nice parties and enlightened circles. They have clearly shown (particularly Kavanaugh and Coney Barrett besides the usual leftist suspects) that they have no fortitude for courageous decisions. Therefore, their cowardice will have to arrive where their integrity could not.
I am not saying this to depress anyone, and I truly hope I will be proven wrong here; but I am just trying to be realistic, and to describe to you the cards on the table as I see them.
I am afraid that, to paraphrase the horrible saying, it will “take a nation”.
I have stated several times that, the next life being infinitely long, it is already a total success (sub specie aeternitatis) if one manages to make it to Purgatory, no matter how long or hard; then every finite suffering is infinitely small compared to the infinite joy in the company of God that will follow.
I have also stated several times that I do not belong to the army of those who – in pure V II, “heart in the right place” fashion – believe that most people go straight to heaven, basically meaning that the streets are full of living saints; something which, to be truthful, I never even vaguely noticed. No, I believe that most of the Elect still land in Purgatory, and I will count myself infinitely graced if I manage, as I hope, to get there one day. So much so, in fact, that I would prefer to die today and go to Purgatory than to live another 50 years with an even vaguely uncertain outcome at the end.
Still, it cannot be denied that Purgatory must be a rather difficult, painful affair, again according to individual degree, with physical suffering adding to the spiritual one. The Church has always presented to us the souls in purgatory as in dire need of our prayers, then the consciousness of having already won the Great Prize attenuates the suffering and makes somewhat sweeter the wait, but suffering it still is.
This is one of the ways in which, if we – Deo volente – manage to get to Purgatory, we will become aware of what a good deal it is to be a Catholic.
If we get there, we will notice that our formerly Protestant companions over there have no one praying for them, at least if all their loved ones are Proddies, too. Imagine their thirst for prayers, largely (not totally, I think, then at that point there are no Protestants anymore) left wanting, because their loved ones think that they are now singing happy songs accompanied by a lot of clapping, and playing baseball with the angels.
We, as Catholics, might not have the army of relatives praying for us that our ancestors had; but after decades of cafeteria Catholicism many of us will not deserve them, either, so it’s par for the course; plus, there will certainly be a generous treatment from the Catholic who, all over the world, pray for the dead. Still, we benefit from the prayers for the dead.
So, it’s All Souls again, and I will pray more for my dead and for all the others, and see if I can visit a cemetery at lunch time.
We live in disgraceful times.
But it’s still good to be a Catholic.
On Saturday, October 30, 2021, at approximately 4:00 PM, members of the Computer Crimes Unit/Internet Crimes Against Children Task Force arrested James Jackson, age 66, of 538 Broadway, Providence, for 1) Possession of Child Pornography, 2) Transfer of Child Pornography, and 3) Child Erotica Prohibited. Mr. Jackson was transported to the Lincoln Woods Barracks for processing. Mr. Jackson was arraigned by Justice of the Peace Crawford who set $5,000 surety bail with the special bail conditions of no unsupervised contact with minors and restricted Internet access. Mr. Jackson was unable to post bail and was transported to the ACI Intake facility.
Terrible, terrible news from Rhode Island State Police
I don’t even know what Child Erotica is, but it must be something terrible. Also, this was an Internet Unit, so stuff was downloaded on Father’s computer; showing that either it was him, or it was someone with access to his computer, or it was someone who wanted to harm him. Realistically, and sadly, the first hypothesis is the most realistic for now.
My first reaction was a dry, involuntary joke: “Michael Virus” was looking in the wrong place!
But seriously, this is bad. It is, actually, worse because this one, actually, really appears to believe in God; to be one of ours.
It can be that he is innocent. It can be that, at 66, he did not have his electronics properly “under lock and key”, and unauthorised people accessed his computer and misused it (and him) – without Father knowing – for their perverted purposes. Honestly, if anybody had access to my computer I am pretty sure he could surf wherever he wants, download whatever he wants, delete his traces, and I would never be the wiser unless, as is the case here, investigators on the other side became aware of the fact.
Alas, it can also be that Father is, actually, the guilty party. And I am having a shiver going down my spine now, because it means that Satan managed to successfully invade the conscience, and corrupt the mind, of a true soldier for the other side.
I don’t, I really can’t understand pedophilia. I’d honestly understand if a man were to sleep with the entire Playboy Calendar, January to December, then back December to January. It would be very sinful, of course; but that would be the sinfulness that goes in the same direction as our natural instincts; it would be sinfulness we can, in a way, connect to. But not pedophilia.
Pedophilia, like sodomy, is the Unfathomably Filthy. It’s a horror movie going on in the brain of a man. It’s stuff that goes deep to the very, very bottom of the Fall.
Pray for the man. Pray for him if he is innocent, pray for him if he isn’t. This isn’t your faggy Bergogliopriest. This isn’t your screechy Father Georgina. This one is esteemed by Father Z. I am having another shiver down my spine right now.
Let us pray more. Let us do more penance. Let us be more guarded.
Let us not allow that anything of the sort, or of a lesser but still bad sort, happens to us.
We will, like everybody else, have to fight our battle to the end.
Let us forget, for a moment, the immense stupidity of Italians having to go around with a piece of cloth on their mouth, perhaps even thinking that this will stop the flu. Yeah, right.
Let us focus, instead, on the massive participation to the Summorum Pontificum pilgrimage. This is not only a demonstration of love for the Mass of the Ages. It is also, whether the guy likes it or not, a slap in the face of the Evil Clown.
This guy thinks he can remake everything in his image, from the Our Father to the Sacraments, and from Capital Punishment to the Mass. Being unquestionably dumb and obviously godless, he just does not understand God’s ways. If he did, he would realise that every persecution may have a degree of success, for a while, but will in the end always result in Christ’s victory.
Some of us fret, cry and get depressed about the antics of this man. But in the end, what we see is a buffoon going against Christ, and being made even more ridicule in the process.
Whenever I think of Francis, I always have in mind this image of a guy, armed with a fork, and standing in front of an immense block of granite. The guy scratches and scratches, and this makes headlines because a man in his position is, in fact, not supposed to be scratching in the first place. But in the end, all that he manages to do is to direct the attention of those who care towards the majesty and beauty of the block of granite he so foolishly wants to “change” and “soften”, because it’s too “rigid” and doesn’t accept “change”.
As to the block of granite, it barely notices the idiot down there trying to do some damage. The idiot will be noticed only when the block of granite squashes him, and leaves his atomised rests to suffer who knows what kind of atrocious pains forever in hell.
The Church, and Her Bridegroom, will go on for as long as there is a planet.
This buffoon will be crushed, and then either despised or forgotten forever, soon enough.