Daily Archives: June 10, 2014

Off-The-Cuff Comment

Bishop Francis suspends all his meetings for the second day in a row. 

Yesterday it was tiredness, today a “light indisposition”.

Pray for the Bishop. 

Two days without cameras, it must be very hard. 

Vanity Fair

So very ‘umble, today he could be a Jesuit: Uriah Heep.

 

 

 

And it came to pass Francis got another occasion to put himself on the stage, with one of those kindergarten exercises that children of all ages (particularly those above Sixty) love so much. 

This time, Francis invited – as widely anticipated, and greeted with little cries of excitement by the usual groupies – the heads of both Israel and the Palestinian authority to Rome, to… well, that’s not very clear, actually. 

Did they pray together? No, they didn’t. They prayed in the same garden, but they clearly did not pray together. Nor did their delegations. Nor did, for all I know, the Rabbi, sorry, the Bishop of Rome. 

Besides ensuring that the two eat kosher-slash-halal, there’s not much that has, apparently, been done. But is it really so? Let’s see. 

1. The two chaps and their respective delegations got a nice holiday in Rome, in June. Rome is pretty nice in June, though it can be far too warm for serious tourism already. Alas, on this occasion a heat wave ensured a maximum temperature of 34 C. Damn! 

No, wait! They come from the Middle East! To them it was no more than a warm day, surely? 

2. The Destroyer got another stage. This is important to him. Without it he would, it is very clear by now, wither and die before long. 

3. The children of the world, of all ages, had another opportunity to feel beautiful. Why people who live so near to each other would need to fly to Rome to dialogue, or even to pray, they have certainly never wondered. All they want in life is some easy emotions, because their little brains can’t get the absurd theatre of all this. Did you like the circus, little ones? Don’t worry: Uncle Francis will soon have another surprise ready for you…

4. The only “result” of this little pantomime has been, though, a very disquieting message: Christ is not necessary for whatever peace one wants to achieve in this vale of tears, and Christianity is clearly inferior to heathen prayer. 

You see, Francis does not want to convert anyone! No, no, no! He thinks that not Christ, but prayer should be – actually behind him, and a bit on the left – at the centre of the meeting. The idea that a heathen’s prayer isn’t worth much does not touch his interreligious, but very kosher mind. He is happy to keep Christ out of the two men’s prayers, provided the two meet and pray together; erm,well, meet and pray… 

Francis has detached prayer from Christ. He wants you to pray, but he does not want that you pray to Christ. To him prayer is the main ingredient, and Christianity merely a spice; a flavour which he would not even dream of recommending to you. It’s like believing in Cinnamon. “Yeah, I’m a great fan of cinnamon, you know. Would I impose it on others? No, no, no!”.

This is the unavoidable consequence of these kindergarten exercises that want everyone to feel included, and exclude Christ the King in the process. 

This is also, of course, the result of a crowd-addicted clown, drunk on his own popularity and completely oblivious of his duties, at the helm of the Barque.

Francis’ pontificate has been up to now a huge Vanity Fair. 

Of the ‘umble kind, of course…

Mundabor 

 

Transgendering Christ.

 

In another show of how some Presbyterians are exactly the opposite of Christians, we are informed a “transgendered” freak show is going to preach in a big Presbyterian so-called Cathedral, in an event to which the omnipresent Fag Supremo, Mrs Robinson, is also going to take part. 

The amount of sugary nonsense waffled about by the organisers of the event is stunning. Not only is Christianity never to be seen – reminder: every heathen can be good to plants and dog puppies; but this is not what Christianity is about -, but it is transformed into its contrary, or I am tempted to say “transgendered”, by a purely self-celebrating worship of one’s perverted self. 

Interestingly enough, the perverts’ organisations involved in the event say this is nothing special, and was “long overdue”. Which makes sense: in the world of perverts, being a pervert or a pro-perverts does not make of one anything special at all. The perverts will only ask one why he has not perverted himself before…

I wonder what kind of people take part in such ceremonies from the pews. I would bet my pint these places attract those who have a desperate need to silence their own conscience, and think the best way to do it is to declare their conscience wrong, and themselves right, hoping their conscience will shut up at last. Sodomites, lesbians, adulterers, abortionists, sexual sinners of any kind must find some superficial comfort in an edifice looking like a real Cathedral, inside which sexual perversion is celebrated as, no less, God-given. 

And in fact, these people do not confront Christianity frontally, like an atheist pervert would; they simply proceed to reinvent it, and inform us 2,000 years of Christian thinking was wrong. They, the perverts, are right. 

The tranny wannabe priest is the best example of the transgendered wannabe Christianity these people are trying to promote. They want to make of Christ one like them, so that they may forget they are, in fact, his very enemies. 

Truth does not change. 

Now as then, there will be wailing, and gnashing of teeth. 

We can, and actually should, pray for the poor bastards. But it is, I think, perfectly fine to also say, in the traditional way: 

Confutatis maledictis 

Flammis acribus addictis

Voca me cum benedictis 

Mundabor 

 

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