What Is Wrong With Francis?

The Evil Clown has expressed the desire to meet the mother of the Italian homo murdered by another homo because of his – real or alleged – relationship with a Trannie.

There is enough material here to vomit for a quarter of an hour. Still, this cretin has it known that he wants to meet the mother of the victim.

Notice here that there is nowhere any trace of condemnation of sexual perversion: not from Francis and not from the mother. Therefore, Francis does not want to meet her as a heroine of the fight for mental sanity, but far more likely as a part of the normalisation of sexual aberration this non-judging nincompoop seems to be pushing all the time.

There is something extremely disquieting and decidedly creepy in the attitude of this man towards perverts. It is as if he would surround with as many of him as he can (besides Ricca we can easily mention Martin, Rosica, Paglia and “Tucho” Fernandez as very easy suspects; I leave it to you if you want to add Coccopalmerio, too) and, when he cannot, he would try to be as near as he can to them by proxy, like the young man in love who likes to chat with the mother of the beloved one.

This man is truly creepy, and it might be even creepier that not many seem to notice anymore.

We live in times in which a Pope seeking the vicinity of perverts is not even news anymore.

M

 

From Generation To Generation

And His Mercy is on those who fear Him from generation to generation.

These words, from the Magnificat, never fail to fill me with a great sense of consolation and hope.

Wretched sinner as I am, I too can hope to be, one day, not left out, but unworthily – and after a, no doubt, long purgatory – admitted to eternal joy beyond human comprehension.

There is something in Catholicism that atheists and assorted anticlericals are utterly unable to get. What they see as uncompromising harshness hides, in fact, infinite sweetness. They cannot see the sweetness, because the acceptance of the harshness is necessary to appreciate it in the first place. They are like a son rebelling against his rigid mother, who will never know how tenderly she loves him.

Fear of the Lord truly is the beginning of wisdom. Its absence is a major indication of foolishness on a vast scale.

I will keep my fear of the Lord and my very harsh religion; and will thoroughly enjoy the tears of consolation and hope that it gives me. May I – and you, my dear readers – never lose it, drowning in the stupidity of the Age of Francis.

M