How Do They Feel?
How do they feel, I wonder every now and then? How must it feel, to be plauded by the world; to be invited by universities and cultural institutions; to feel hip (with a certain crowd) and at pace with the times. How does it feel to be praised by bishops and cardinals (or, actually, by bishops who then become cardinals…) for, say, writing a book that promotes sodomy, glorifies it, calls for perverted attraction to be called holy. How does it feel to talk in front of a chosen troop of subservient journalists, and theorize about women priests, or such like atrocities.
They are on a roll, aren’t they? They are clearly in power, and dominate the corridors of the Vatican. The Pope is either a homosexual himself, or in the pocket of homosexuals, or simply on their side because of the sheer hate for the Church they all share.
They are riding high. They mistakenly tweet their male lovers in public, and nothing happens to them. They write books glorifying perverted attractions – and, factually, sodomitic behaviour – and they reap praise among the fashionable and the darlings of the world. They write the foreword for such scandalous books, and they are made cardinals.
They are cleaning up. How must it feel?
I think I know how it must feel. It must feel empty, and without any sense. It must feel joyless and, actually, more than vaguely ominous. These people have no faith, and do not think that there is anything beyond the final curtain. When there is no faith, nothing makes sense, and life is just an absurd search for vain pleasures that must never give fulfilment.
Add, to this, the special role Satan plays in the life of these miserable wretches, particularly the sodomites. To all, Satan gives an oppressive sense of nothingness and quiet desperation. To the Sodomites, he gives a life of special torment. It does not matter how celebrated a sodomite is, be him a famous comedian, or rockstar, or politician, or “trendy”, unworthy priest. They lead a wretched, miserable life, all of them.
In fact, in less PC times I read on a psychology book (in those times I did that) that the obvious preference of homosexuals for professions and activities who give them a stage if possible (politician, actor, priest!), and a captive audience if not possible (coiffeur) is due to the extreme desire for self-validation engendered by their extreme hate and despise of self. In other words, they hate their own guts, and are in dire need of people who praise them, or in any other way validate them, in order to feel less of a piece of shit, at least for a while.
Imagine that: the trendy priest and the homo cardinals have a horrible life every minute of it, and the praise of the world is just an injection of very weak novocaine, merely helping them to linder the pain of their wretched existence for a while, as a horrible eternal destiny insinuates itself in their perverted minds, battling with their atheism in a tragic, desperate game.
This, my friends, is how they feel.
Think of it every time you read of them being praised, or promoted, or celebrated by a stupid world that has lost its senses.