Daily Archives: January 8, 2014

Caesar, Biggus Dickus, And The Fratres Immaculatae.

Does he know of Biggus Dickus Vulpius?

Does he know of Biggus Dickus Vulpius?

And it came to pass a Roman Centurion, called Biggus Dickus Vulpius, went against a community of Roman Christians, a small group of pious people calling themselves Fratres (vel Sorores) Mariae immaculatae Servi (vel Servae), in short: Fratres (Sorores) Immaculatae. Eight Hundred of them in all, between men and women, and not counting the many catechumens.

The poor wretches were put in a rather unhealthy dungeon, and their leader put in isolation in a single cell, chained to the wall as then the custom required.

The Christian population of Rome was appalled. How could Biggus Dickus Vulpius have done something so appalling? Caesar must be informed! Caesar is so good and so merciful, he would never ever allow this to happen!

The community was, therefore, very angry at Vulpius. He was, they were persuaded, clearly the bad guy, and was obviously acting without Caesar’s knowledge. The Imperial corridors are so long, and the salons one must walk through so many, that the poor Emperor cannot be in any way informed about what is happening! And he so good, so merciful, so full of tender love!

But then some people noticed that when Biggus Dickus had first put in place his big wave of arrests, he had insistently said he was doing it by order of Caesar. Would Vulpius – they reasoned – a mere Centurion, dare to go ultra vires and abuse his power in such a way as to claim a direct order from Caesar that was simply non-existent? Would not this be the end of the career, and more probably the life, of such a deluded, megalomaniac Centurion? And why would Caesar – they also said – have lied to everyone about Biggus Dickus being responsible for the small Christian community of the arrested? No, this couldn’t be. Actually, that Vulpius was legitimately in charge, no one dared to question. They all knew Caesar himself had put him there! They also knew how angry Caesar became any time someone dared to mock, or even criticise, Biggus Dickus… But that Vulpius would act with Caesar’s consent in a way that is so much in contrast to the Wise and Peaceful Caesar, this could not, most certainly not be believed!

Frantic days of uncertainty and fear were lived in and around the dungeon. The poor prisoners were left with bread and water. They were told that their leader, Pius Manellus Conditor, was a very bad man. Once, it was said, he had not answered a letter from Vulpius; or a question, that is; or Vulpius had not liked the answer, perhaps; or something like that. They also started rumours he was an enemy of the Empire, or at least he had sympathies for the Pii Galli Helvetici, a small but tough community of mountain people who, whilst very faithful to Caesar, said that Caesar is not God and persisted in their position. The Conditor was, Vulpius also said, probably corrupt, but no one ever knew anything more precise. Certainly, he was Proto-Gallican; though no one had ever noticed it, either. What they knew, is that Manellus must have been very bad; at some point; in something.

Vulpius was not to be persuaded: Manellus had to remain in chains. A dangerous man, he said; given to domineering, never able to listen. Six of his men, Biggus Dickus reported, tought him not cooperative. Perhaps even more, though this was very unclear. Still: six over only eight hundred? How can such a man, said Vulpius, lead a community of Christians? This community is utterly divided, and Manellus is the divisive one!

The prisoners continued to wail, Manellus continued to be kept in chains, and all the dearest habits of the poor men and women were now forbidden. Vulpius was keeping faith to his name, though calling him Biggus Dickus could have attracted the ire of Caesar; so no one inside the dungeon called him that way.

Until, one day, Caesar came to visit.

He was very nice, very affable, extremely gentle, and utterly Imperial. He listened to a couple of them with great attention. Then he said to them: ” Don’t worry, my dear little Christian community. Do as my trusted Vulpius says. He knows what is best for you. Have confidence. Don’t complain about the dungeon. It’s for your own good. Everything will be fine. Trust me. Am I not known all over the vast Empire as The Humble Caesar of Mercy and Tenderness?”

At this point, the poor wretched in the dungeon did not have any doubt that Caesar himself was behind the action. But outside the dungeon, others were of different opinion. Caesar must have visited the building, but clearly no one had informed him that that was a dungeon! They must have said to him it was a wellness centre! Manellus was certainly unchained in an isolated cell, but obviously Caesar had not been informed of that! It was all Biggus Dickus’ fault, you see! Such a shame cannot be permitted!

So the loyal subjects of Caesar, the man whose mercy and tenderness were sung all over the Roman Empire, continued to believe that Caesar was being duped. He was clearly not told what a dungeon is for; he was clearly kept fully in the dark as to all that was happening; he was clearly not told exactly where to look, and exactly what to think; and how could he, the poor lamb, make the right decision when the wolves around him do not even tell him dungeons are pretty cold, and rather damp? If Vulpius had only refrained from telling him the cold was there to help the wretches lose weight…

Therefore, they went around Rome, full of sacred zeal, saying to everyone: “Help us let Caesar know what is happening to that poor community in the dungeon! He must, he must be informed! We will always obey to everything he says, because for Caesar one must fall on his sword without questioning the order; but if he knew, if he only knew, all this would not be happening, surely? Help us, help us, help us!”.

At one point, the poor men and women were transferred to another building. It was clear there were lions not very far from then, trained every day. But they couldn’t see much, because the place was very dark. The lions were loud, though, and rather angry; possibly they were hungry, too.

The good men and women inside the dungeon were, at this point, much afraid.

But those outside, they kept accusing Biggus Dickus, and said Caesar could not have anything to do with it.


The Thing With The Poverty

Too much luxury. Let’s look good and spend more money instead.

Let us imagine that the Italian Prime Minister, Enrico Letta, were to decide that the wonderful offices in the spectacularly beautiful Palazzo Chigi in Rome (see photo above) were not befitting the modern times of austerity and economic crisis.

Let us further imagine that he would decide to give an example, and move the offices of the Prime Minister in more modest quarters in some conveniently located, but cheaper and far less spectacular office space in, say, the EUR neighbourhood, seat of several Ministries already.

Let us also imagine that, for obvious security and prestige reasons, the Chigi palace were to be left empty.

Finally, let us imagine that the total space occupied by Mr Letta in the new EUR quarters were actually bigger than the space occupied by his former offices.

If all this were to happen, would you say that Mr Letta is acting wisely? Would you see in his move a sign of humility? Would you not rather point out that as the old space is kept and the new space is taken out in addition, additional costs are incurred, for the sake of the appearance of modesty and humility? Wouldn’t you say that the entire exercise is a gimmick meant to fool the gullible and to ride the wave of easy emotionalism, rather than an example of sound husbandry of the resources entrusted to the Prime Minister?

Pope Francis announces with great fanfare he is not going to live in the splendid Papal Apartments. Said Papal Apartments remain henceforward empty. He goes on to occupy an entire floor of the Domus Sanctae Marthae; for a total space, as we are now reliably informed – the relevant reports were never negated by the hyperactive Press Office of the Vatican – bigger than the space he was supposed to occupy in the Papal Apartments; a space, this one, that was built for him, then Popes are not supposed to live in hotels – much less hotels run by homosexuals – as Francis does. This, without considering the additional costs and complications linked with the necessity to provide for the Holy Father’s security in a place with people continuously going in and out.

At the end of the exercise, what you have is more costs, more inconvenience, more occupied space, and a clear waste of resources. But you have the appearance of poverty.

All fine, then.

The crowds will be delighted.


The Forgotten Report


Do you remember the famous 300 page reports that was in everyone's minds – and blogs – around Christmas 2012? The one commissioned by then Pope Benedict XVI and concerning homosexual infiltration in the Vatican?

The last thing I remember is that Benedict had decided to put the report at the disposal of his successor, and that the dimension of the report and the little that had emerged indicated that things were serious indeed.

Nothing has emerged of the report since. We do not know whether Francis even bothered to read it. For all we know he might have put it in his fireside and used it as a humble way to heat his rather extensive humble quarters at the Domus Sanctae Marthae.

In the meantime, we are informed a former Swiss Guard states he has received sexual advances from around two dozen clerical homos during his permanence at the Vatican, among them an undetermined number of bishops and one Cardinal. Swiss Guard soldiers generally stay two years. Do your math.

One wonders. The sin of the sodomites has utterly disappeared from the Vatican radar screens after Francis' election, as we are invited to not “obsess” about such trivial things as a sin crying to Heaven for vengeance. All the while, the Pontiff talks day in and day out of a new theology of mercy and doubt, according to which doctrinal security is bad, a priest must smell of favela, morality is not “pastoral”, and “who are we to judge”. A turn of phrase used by the Pontiff about, erm, the homosexual prelate running the hotel in which he lives. If it sounds creepy, it's because it is.

I do not know about you, but this sounds like open complicity with sodomy to me.

In the meantime the report, if it still exists, lies locked in some very robust safe, protected from the indiscreet eyes of whistleblowers.

We live in strange and disturbing times. And we have a very strange, and very disturbing Pope.



Orthodoxy By Hearsay

Not easily shocked, Bishop Francis…

Some days ago, Bishop Scicluna of Malta said something very normal about adoption and sexual perversion; better said, he said something that would have been normal, even banal, in usual times, but attracted predictable criticism in times of pope-sponsored “religion of mercy”.

The Bishop replied that he had spoken in the same terms with the Pontiff himself, and the latter had been so gracious as to express dismay at children being adopted by faggots, or dykes, and encouraged him so speak about it.

Predictably, the neo-con Pollyanna fraction was uncorking the bubbly, utterly in ecstasy at the prospect that the Pope might, this once, in private, allegedly, have spoken like a Catholic. Perhaps it would be useful to explain here a couple of concepts:

1. The Pope’s statements related by third parties do not make lasting headlines. Very probably, they aren’t even noticed by any other than those who read the specialised press or the Catholic blogs. The world at large will never know what the Pope would have said. They are, to all intents and purposes, little more than rumours. Particularly so, when we have a Pope clearly afflicted with a rather serious case of logorrhoea, and whose interviews and exhortations alone are now rapidly approaching 100,000 words.

2. If the Pope thinks about the issue as strongly as reported, that is, is “shocked at the idea of same-sex adoptions”, he has to do nothing else than say so himself in no uncertain terms. It would make worldwide headlines. Unsurprisingly, he just doesn’t. Worse still, when confronted some time later with the girl “raised” by the two dykes, he manages not only not to say anything openly critical, but even to fuel fears he might become “pastoral” in matter of pervert couples, happily throwing Catholic teaching out of the window in this matter as he has already done in so many others.

3. It’s rather easy to be a champion of orthodoxy when 100% of the intended audience (in this case: of one) agrees with you. It is rather more difficult when there is a price to pay in terms of popularity. Francis has his popularity very, very dear.

4. It is clear by now that Francis is a professional of the agreement. He say what people want to hear, and who cares about the Truth. He will agree with Scicluna in the same way as he agrees with Scalfari. He actually says to Bishop Scicluna to speak out about his concern when the latter says him so. The problem is clearly Scicluna’s, not Francis’. He mocks people who pray rosaries with “progressive” nuns, but says the truth must be said whole in front of his bishop. Then he speaks with Scalfari, and suddenly the truth must be denied. In this case, one can imagine the polite conversation. “Really, bishop? Shocking, eh? Is this issue near to your heart? By all means, do speak out about it…”.

Methinks, Francis calls this behaviour being “pastoral”. I call it being a Jesuit.

I am eagerly awaiting for a clear and public statement of Francis saying that he is appalled at perverts adopting children; which latter can’t be credibly done without explaining what is wrong with homosexual couples; which latter can’t be credibly done without explaining what is wrong with homosexuality; which latter can’t be credibly done without explaining what is wrong with him, still tolerating Monsignor (note the title) Ricca as his host and even promoting him to an important position within the Vatican bank, all the while shrugging his shoulder at the rampant homosexuality within the Vatican (they do not have ID cards, you see), and liquidating Ricca’s elephant in the room with a Presbyterian “who am I to judge?”.

I think I might be waiting for a long, long time.


Rosary In Latin, From The FFI

Rosary in Latin, recited by Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate.

No thanks to Bishop Francis.


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