Monthly Archives: December 2021

Wow, Dude!! You Sure Look Ugly!!

Aaaaarrrggghhh!!!

I don’t watch much TV. I have no idea how the game Jeopardy is played, though I know of its existence.

What I did not know is that, in order to comply with the mantra of modern madness, a dude in drags has now been crowned the highest winning “dudette” ever.

The likely future suicide (yep, folks: this is how most of these people end up; and no, it’s not our fault…) was, of course, congratulated by one and all as if he were actually born with a vagina. In one of those shows of PC that are so fashionable nowadays, the female contestant who had won most before this dude congratulated him on his feat of winning more than her.

If you follow the linked article, you will be able to read the entire exchange, which makes clear that “real vagina” really want all of us to know that she congratulates “fake vagina” as a woman. It really makes one retch. It’s not only the obvious wrong that is “celebrated” here, it’s this whiff of Stalinian regime, or Saddam reign of terror, which clearly emerges: the woman being obviously aware of the impending cancellation if she does not show the “support” for the dude the PC crowd demands from her. This is what happens to you if you decide to label yourself a “progressive”: every madness supported by Party Headquarters will have to be approved of in warm and inclusive terms, or you’re screwed like you’re Elton John on an extremely, extremely courageous day.

They all need our prayer: the deranged dude, the woman enabling him, the TV channel broadcasting Satan (who, I am sure, is pretty disgusted himself; but I think he’ll take whatever he can get).

Three minus points to Breitbart for not telling us the name Dude went around as (say: Peter, or Paul; I very much doubt at birth he was called Georgina, or however he calls himself these days) before his madness persuaded him to go around in drags. As always, we see that a lot of “conservative” outlets always play it as safe as they can (hint: Breitbart also writes “gay” for “homo”).

This comes on the heel of that other dude winning a woman swimming competition by 40 seconds.

You really couldn’t make it up.

Latin: Francis Must Repeat The Year

Look, it’s him again!!

How can, of all people, a priest, fail to repeat and use correctly a blessing in Latin he must have said a half million times?

My take on this disconcerting episode is as follows:

1) Francis’ priestly formation was, very obviously, a joke. I don’t mean to say here that he would have wanted to learn Latin and was not allowed to. I am meaning that, most likely, he realised he could get away with not applying himself to Latin (or to anything else) and, lazy ass that he clearly is, he decided to avail himself of the opportunity.

2) The guy is so little accustomed to imparting blessings in Latin, that he needs to repeat his lesson before the teacher interrogates him; but he can’t do that properly, either; see above, “lazy ass”. He likely goes around trying to avoid blessing in Latin whenever he can. Heck, in order to manage to say it wrong, he must be awfully out of even a small practice.

I don’t think these two probable causes are mutually exclusive, either. The guy was a lazy ass in Seminary and has remained one in his old age. It’s just the way it is with these modest lovers of wheelchairs: doing what they ought is too much for them; they prefer to follow whatever “spirit” possesses them and make a pig’s breakfast of everything, and the bad impression be damned.

Teflon Frankie will shrug this aside with a shoulder shrug, a double Fernet and, most likely, a swear word. Had he been unwilling to look, in front of the entire world, like the embarrassment that he is, he would have taken better care of his Latin.

But no: he does not know jack of anything, he embarrasses himself at every step, and he does not care that you notice it. He is the pope, and he will make a clown of himself as much as he likes.

Heck, he might even enjoy the outrage of proper Catholics. At times I think he now lives only for that!

I have a small verse for him:

Fiant dies ejus pauci, et episcopatum ejus accipiat alter.

Ooops, apologies. I forgot that Latin is alien to the guy. So let us translate:

May his days be few: and his bishopric let another take.

Meet Christ, The Layman: Why Archbishop Castillo Mattasoglio Is More FrancisDumb Than Francis

Archbishop Castillo Mattasoglio must have studied in the same seminary as the Evil Clown. How do I know it? Because he thinks that Jesus was, and died, a layman.

The mind boggles when put in front of error of this scale, and this from an Archbishop.

Unless the guy is totally demented, and I mean by that “worse than Biden”-demented, he must know that Christ is King and Sovereign Priest. There is even an institute ( the ICKSP) which actually has this concept in its name, so that even dumb bishops may easily remember.

But it is not only this: just by memory I remember being told the following: 1) that the Roman soldiers played the dice for Jesus’ garments, because those were the dice Jesus, as it was typical of a high priest, would carry in his pocket; Jesus would carry the dice in his pocket (a symbol of the unpredictability of the moment of death) exactly to show his office as High priest. 2) that Jesus’ tunic was an expensive tunic without seams, which is the reason why the tunic wasn’t torn apart and was gambled away, via the dice, whole. Again, I was told that the seamless tunic was a typical garment of a high priest. 3) When Jesus asks Peter to go and fish the fish in whose mouth he will find the coin to pay for both Jesus’ and Peter’s temple tax, Jesus points out to Peter that, as the King’s Son, he does not need to pay the tax. However, I was told years ago that the high priest was exempt from the tax, too. In this perspective, therefore, Christ would not have paid the tax before also because, as the high priest, he did not have to. Plus, there are scriptural sources like Hebrews. Plus, there are two thousand years of theology.

I am sure I forget a lot.

Summa Summarum: there is no way that this guy could say that Jesus “dies as a layman who gives hope to humanity” without having the explicit intention of sabotaging Christ’s Office as a Priest.

Why the heck he does this, it is more difficult to discern.

He probably lost his faith a long time ago. I have seen it many times that, when these prelates lose the faith, they start de-Christianising Christianity so that they may feel better about their own lack of faith. Everything must be brought down to the natural level: Christ the social worker, Christ the rebel, Christ the “good guy” that “does what is right” and, obviously, Christ the fighter against climate change.

Does Castillo hate Christ? Likely. This kind of disregard for Christ must have come from somewhere. Calling Jesus a layman is not something that “slips”. It is something that you must go out and invent for yourself. It can only have been highly intentional, and fully premeditated. Try to recall when it was the last time that anybody called Christ “a layman”. I honestly have no recollection whatsoever. I think even Francis in a fernet-drunken state would get the concept.

You read about these people and you really wonder what is wrong with them.

Perhaps we are here confronted with way more than FrancisDumb.

We are, perhaps, confronted with FrancisEvil.

Natum Videte Regem Angelorum

Tomorrow Shall be My Dancing Day

It Is Christmas. Don’t Suffer Anymore.

The Christmas Carol I have posted for today is one very dear to my heart; a musical piece of such moving intensity that, as a child or an adult, I could never sing it without crying tears of consolation and tenderness.

The last part goes as follows:

E viene giù dal ciel, lento
Un canto che consola il cuor
Che mi dice, “Spera anche tu
È Natale, non soffrire più
È Natale, non soffrire più”

“and it comes from heaven, slowly/a song that comforts the heart/ which tells me: “you hope, too/It’s Christmas, don’t suffer anymore/ It’s Christmas, don’t suffer anymore”

(The song I have posted has a slight variation: “un dolce canto ammaliator”, “a sweet, enchanting song”, but it’s the same sentiment).

If you wish, you can find the lyrics in English and Italian here. It is moving from the first word to the last.

It is Christmas. Let us leave aside the suffering that that evil man, and his satanic helpers, have tried and will try to inflict on the Church and us all. Let us leave aside all the lukewarm, wannabe-pious Francishelpers, the homosocialist priests, the sellout bishops and the complicit cardinals.

Christ has already won. In this most tender among all Christianity’s feast days, let us not forget this.

It is Christmas.

Don’t suffer anymore.

Bianco Natale

“I Gotta Take This”. The Papacy In The Francis Era.

“Shall I get the iPhone 13?”

Francis did it again. In an almost perfect replay of his stunt months ago, he let people wait as he went away to take a phone call from his mobile.

It really boggles the mind. A Pope going around with a mobile phone in his pocket and telling his people “I got to take this” is one who has not understood anything of his role as a Pope.

Even in a business setting, and at least in Europe, a person who interrupts a conversation with clients to take a phone call would be seen as rude; it would be seen as, the way the German put it, Wichtigtuerei, “making oneself important”.

A President of the United States might have an urgent phone call informing him that aeroplanes have crashed on skyscrapers; but a Pope has no such security concerns.

Even in the improbable case that Francis was expecting a call from his doctor with life-or-death news about his alleged cancer, this is something that certainly could have waited ten minutes.

The general picture is the one we already know: a boorish man with a complete lack of manners or a proper understanding of his role. A man going his way fully uncaring of the way it makes him look, perhaps even enjoying the way it makes him look.

Francis will make himself important, because he can. Nobody will reproach him, much less fire him. They will all have to endure him for as long as he is around.

I can picture this man getting a stroke and dying repeatedly screaming the “F” word, like a mediocre character out of a badly written Hollywood movie. Nothing would be more in tune with now almost 9 years of papacy.

There is nothing papal in him. He just does not do any kind of “popery”. He behaves like the butcher around the corner, or the fish guy at the market. He gives the impression that he has been parachuted in the Vatican without knowing why, buy hey, once there he decided he enjoyed the place.

2022 is the year when we know whether this cancer story and the alleged death sentence is true.

God knows I hope it is, and that his cancer, such as it is real, works like a champ to free us from this disgrace as soon as possible.

Merry Christmas, Father Jackson!

Father Jackson has pleaded not guilty.

This is good news, as I think that it would have been wiser for him, and the suggestion of his counsel, that he pleads guilty and tries to reach a back door agreement rather than undergoing the risk of a very public trial and a very exemplary sentence.

I wasn’t there, of course. But I have read around that Father’s computer wasn’t in his room, either, but rather in another room or office. It would not be difficult for an experienced hacker to hack the computer, either for his own purposes or in order to frame Father.

Again, I wasn’t there, and I do not know the man. I think it behooves me and everyone of my readers to reflect on the ways Satan can attack a priest. However, Father has received glowing character testimonies on this blog and elsewhere, and it’s not difficult to imagine that someone could be so evil that he wants to destroy an innocent priest, or so evil that he hacks a computer of another person for his disgusting purposes.

I think the presumption of innocence is well deserved in this case, and Father is no O J Simpson.

Please pray for him and join me in wishing him a Merry Christmas.

White Christmas

Tu Scendi Dalle Stelle

Joseph Stalin Canonised by Francis

A match made in… oh well…

Joseph Vissarionovich Stalin is about to be canonised by Scoundrel Pope Francis. A date has not been communicated yet, but the date of his death, the 5th March, is considered probable. Saint Joseph of Gori is the most probable official saint name.

Pope Francis has given a clear indication of his intentions. His words do not leave any doubt:

“God always forgives, God always forgives. Let’s get this into our heads, whatever sin I have done he forgives it because he came to forgive not condemn.”

It is clear that we – the bad, bad Catholics who still cling to an old, pre-Spirit religion – need to get this into our head, that whatever sin we have done, there is no need for repentance. God forgives because he came to forgive not condemn, and clearly He does not want to waste the time, the bother, and the train ticket, just because someone is not repentant.

Repentance is overrated. Let’s get this into our heads.

The date for Hitler will be 20th April and he will venerated as Saint Adolphus of Braunau.

The one for Pol Pot will be the 15th April. It is uncertain whether he will be canonisised Pol of Prek Sbauv or, as is more probable, with some other name like Saint Pol Pot The Meek; which, it has been observed, has a nice, round sound to it.

Observers have noticed that whilst Francis was, in his impromptu canonisation, talking to a former jail inmate speaking exactly of his repentance, the fact that he left repentance out of his clear-cut statement is as strong an indication as can be that the jail inmate was being an old-fashioned Catholic, and was not going with the Spirit. Therefore, Francis had to correct him, lest the apprentice Franciscan Spirituals be confused.

Let us repeat this again so it sinks into our very hard heads:

“God always forgives, God always forgives. Let’s get this into our heads, whatever sin I have done he forgives it because he came to forgive not condemn.”

Some observers have noticed that the Pope has, besides canonising the above mentioned individuals, also made himself redundant, as the new religion of the Franciscan Spirituals clearly has no need for a Pope, or a Religion, at all, and we all need to get this into our heads.

We have tried to contact Joseph Stalin, who has not returned our request for comment. A spokesman said that the man is battling huge problems of heat at the moment, but hopes to meet Francis soon.

We’ll keep our readers informed as this story develops.

Silent Night

In Dulci Jubilo

And Just Like That…

And just like that, the Pope who has not answered the Dubia of the Cardinals about Amoris Laetitia for more than 1900 days finds the time and the evil energy to answer a series of utterly uncatholic Dubia about the Traditional Latin Mass, further restricting the use of the Traditional Latin Mass.

The scale of the evil is breathtaking, and further enhanced by the fact (certainly, not a coincidence) that it happens just before Christmas. This old hound certainly enjoys making you miserable.

In a way, this is sad news. It is a direct attack to Christ and to the anathema of Pope Pius V against those who attack the Mass.

In another way, I cannot but see a sign of hope. The Evil Clown has not acted against the Traditional Latin Mass for eight years. It may well be (though I am not an old, lewd scoundrel, so it’s difficult for me to think what the man thinks) that this is another consequence of Francis realising that he is on his way out, and wanting to go to his grave without one little petty revenge unaccomplished.

Cardinal Roche has been his willing executioner. May the Lord reward him as he deserves for this. Something tells me he will be sorry to discover, one day, that where he has landed there is no possibility of ice skating.

Everybody who can, attend Mass at the SSPX.

Everybody, please consider stop every kind of donations to the Vatican at least for as long as this SOB lives. Again, let the SSPX be the recipient of your Christian charity. I think exceptions for worthy organisations (last time I looked at least; I am terrified of looking in depth at their websites these days) like the Verona Fathers or Aid to the Church in Need are still warranted.

But not one penny to the diocese.

Good King Wenceslas

Meet The Vocation Terminator

“Go away, you and your vocation!”

And it came to pass that Francis abandoned himself to reminiscences about the time when he was an important person, perhaps the decisive one, in the decision of whom to admit to the Jesuit seminary.

It really is scary to think about.

A man who entered the seminary lying to his own widowed mother, who made sacrifices and sent money to a faraway son telling her he was studying medicine, cannot possibly have any affinity for honest, straight-shooting, good people actually accustomed to tell the truth. In fact, Francis must have seen these people as positively dangerous to him, as honest people tend to react unfavourably when being confronted with falseness and lies and might, who knows, blow the whistle on ten or twelve of his most alarming character traits. No, it was certainly better, for Francis, to promote the acceptance in the seminary of people like him, lying scoundrels with no shame, no dignity and no faith. In fact, such a one as Francis would have an interest in promoting people with a skeleton in the cellar (say: homosexuals, and even outright sodomites) , so that his own mediocrity, faithlessness, and who knows what else could not be denounced by anybody without his own skeleton coming out in the open.

Then there is the problem (for Francis) of vocations. A man who clearly had no more vocation in him than a badly behaved Dobermann, Francis must have been horrified at the sight of people showing him what faith really is, and what a strong vocation means for a person. Again, the contrast with these “rigid” Catholics could not have been most striking and, unavoidably, would have caused him an awful lot of trouble down the line. Strong, zealous, purely pre-Vatican II priests would have readily recognised the stench emanating by Bergoglio, and they would have acted accordingly.

No, the thing to do for the man was to be only one: admit people who are just as bad as he is, possibly worse, ideally much worse. I think this thinking (plus sheer sodomy) explains a lot of what has been going on with Jesuits at large in the last decades.

Bergoglio has certainly contributed to the loss of dozen, possibly hundreds of good future friars and priest, and to the infestation of his order with a great number of, well, Jesuits as we now know them.

Add this to the long list of deeds for which he will, hopefully soon, be called to answer.

No Happy Returns, Frankie

Today, the Evil Clown becomes 85 and, on such occasions, it is customary to wish the Birthday Boy many happy returns and a long, healthy and serene old age.

If my sources are correct, today 85 years ago another, less known event happened. Sister Lucia [EDIT: FAUSTINA!**] wrote on her diary about a big sense of oppression and doom that weighted over her all day. Something about Satan making a move. I cannot google now, but you will be able to verify or disprove my claim.

Unfortunately, this guy is not your usual Birthday Boy. He was a tragedy all of his life, but he became a veritable plague when he was elected Pope. It was at this point that the world became acquainted with his hypocrisy, his pettiness, his persecution of the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate, his arrogance at every step, his boundless vanity, his downplaying or belittling everything that is to do with Catholicism, his boorish behaviour even with his own invited guests, and so much more.

This was a guy able to forcefully open the hands of a child joined in prayer, such is the hatred of the man for the Church and Her Bridegroom. This was a guy able to openly mock those who have prayed thousands of rosaries for him.

He also openly mocked those warning of the “gay mafia”, whilst never acting on the 300 pages dossier left to him by his cowardly predecessor. His “who am I to judge?” (spoken regarding a homosexual protégé of him) horrified Christians around the world. His virtue signalling and self-absorption had Gretaesque proportions.

Then came the Excrementations: exercises in banality, futility, arrogance and heresy, whilst constantly attacking the Sacraments, most egregiously in Amoris Laetitia.

The last phase, possibly started in earnest when he knew his days were counted, is the one against the Traditional Liturgy, which he had never attacked so openly before.

But really, there was almost no day in which this unspeakable scoundrel was not working against Christ in one way or the other.

As we mourn the 85th birthday of this walking plague, we need to reflect that Sr Faustina’s pains were, very likely, due to the birth of this guy, whom Satan will likely claim as one of his most prized possessions of all times. I can well imagine that hell’s drilling machines are working full time now, hasting to complete an abode fitting for its future, and oh so humble, long term tenant.

I wish I could be able to wish the Pope many more years at the helm. But this one being Francis, and showing no intentions of resigning before stretching his sacrilegious paws, I can, as a Catholic, not wish the man anything better than a painless, and speedy, departure from this vale of tears.

Actually, in a spirit of love for the Church and Her Bridegroom, I wish Francis that he may die – hopefully repentant, but I am perfectly fine if not – this very day, as he indulges in that last morsel that gives him the stroke, thus depriving the rumoured cancer of the possibility of ridding the Church of this blaspheming jester on its own.

Mind, I’ll get Francis’ death of cancer every day of the week if needs be. But I think that a clean cut, a stroke or a massive heart attack, would be better for us all. He has had enough occasion to repent, no one can claim an injustice if the guy is taken out, like the trash he is, suddenly and without warning.

And so there we are, Frankie boy.

No happy return, Frankie; and may you drop dead today, with your soul in that State the Lord, in His Goodness, will have decreed you have to die in.

——-

**

December 17, [1936]. I have offered this day for priests. I have suffered more today than ever before, both interiorly and exteriorly. I did not know it was possible to suffer so much in one day. I tried to make a Holy Hour, in the course of which my spirit had a taste of the bitterness of the Garden of Gethsemane. I am fighting alone, supported by His arm, against all the difficulties that face me like unassailable walls. But I trust in the power of His name and I fear nothing.
– Diary of St. Faustina, 823

Thanks to the readers who have commented with the correction.

Christmas Lullaby

Human Rights For Canines

We need a new religion, quick!!

I don’t know if it happening to you, too, but I am starting to notice it all right around me (this morning most recently).

You ask someone about his family and this person answers by including a pet in the family.

Now, this is something which has, in a way, always been done. Fido, or Felix, are part of the family because they live with it, in the same way as the au pair is said to be part of the family with the obvious, unspoken proviso that she actually isn’t. I am not talking about this.

What I am talking about is this kind of in-your-face “the family has three people, my wife, myself, and Fido” attitude, where it is clear that the pet is not merely a pet, but a full family member endowed with human rights.

It seems to me that this attitude is ripe among couples without children. Their dog is their child. Therefore, the dog must be promoted to the rank of human. This makes the couple forget that they actually did not want to undergo the inconvenience, expense, worry and perhaps sorrow of having a child, whilst posing as loving carers and, actually, parents in the eyes of the world.

This carries more consequences, which the “parents” will , rather likely, fully embrace.

If a dog is as much worth as a human, it will be cruel to slaughter cows, because at that point how can you humanise some animals and not others? Cue the army of vegetarians and vegans to whom Jesus must have had, at the very least, outdated views, not sufficiently reflective of the suffering he inflicted on those creatures.

In addition, if a dog is as much worth as a human, abortion becomes clearly a possibility; because you see, a baby becomes something you elect to have, or not, according to your life situation. The more sinister variation of this as also logical: let’s kill the unwanted baby and let’s get a dog from the shelter instead.

See what I am doing here? Saving a life! Yeah well, I caused another life to go. But hey, isn’t it a zero sum, of sort? Let’s kill Unwanted Baby Number Two, then. This time, we might get a poodle…

The theological implications are also vast. It being, at this point, simply inconceivable that Fido might not experience some sort of Beatific Vision (this would be, and I am not joking here, dogphobic), it follows that Christianity must be exclusionary. Therefore, the first Oriental fad that becomes fashionable in Fido’s circle of friends (see what I am doing here?) and promises a sort of Dog Nirvana where nobody is “left behind” and everything is “sacred” in the same way, will be readily adopted, particularly if it produced a most desired answer concerning not only the dog, but the aborted child, too.

There will likely be more ramifications than these ones here, because the desire to give human dignity to animals must create all sort of absurdities. Is the milk cow my slave? Is training a dog coercion? Do I have the right to live where bears using to roam freely?

You may laugh reading this; which would be consoling, because it would mean that, in your circle of friends, there are a lot of sensible people.

But I can assure you that the number of those who equiparate a dog to a human is growing steadily, and no sign of abatement.

I hope Pius XIII, if he comes up with the right ideas instead of only the right name, will be very vocal about this.

We need to recover proper Christianity before we start standing up for God.

How To Shut Up And Influence Noone

The Evil Clown has given us another example of the wonderful ways of his thinking:

The most important words are these:

Without practicing silence, our tongue can also ail. Instead of making the truth shine, it can become a dangerous weapon. Indeed, our words can become flattery, bragging, lies, backbiting and slander. It is an established fact that, as the Book of Sirach reminds us, “many have fallen by the edge of the sword, but not so many as have fallen because of the tongue” (28:18), the tongue kills more than the sword. Jesus said clearly: whoever speaks ill of his brother or sister, whoever slanders his neighbour, is a murderer (cf. Mt 5:21-22). Killing with the tongue. We do not believe this, but it is the truth. Let us think a little about the times we have killed with the tongue: we would be ashamed! But it will do us good, a great deal of good.”

The more I read this guy, the more I think that he was, all his life, a lying, cowardly, lewd, lazy hypocrite who has heard for decades the echo of his own character in a lot of people around him. He might, also, have been (and still be) a pervert. He has been, most certainly, a man without a shred of faith, lying even to his mother, boasting of it, and caring nothing for even a minimum of integrity in his life.

Hence, this obsession with making us just shut up with the denunciation of how evil he is. Sorry, Frankie boy, but we will give a pass to this. Evil must be denounced, and trying to hide behind the same Jesus on whose face you spit every day will not help, either.

Francis’ desire, though, might well go beyond his desire that an army of bloggers stops opening the eyes of Catholics and non-Catholics every day about the real nature of this man. I think it’s deeper than that.

Francis’ model of Catholic is a Catholic that puts up with everything, looks the other way all the time, and is happy to only have his Catholicism as a fuzzy feeling with no effect in real life. He wants all those dumb women, and even dumber eunuchs, going around with a stupid smile on their face, blathering about the “joy of Christ”, whilst around them faithlessness, blasphemy, heathenism, and perversion abound. If he can’t destroy Catholicism, at least he will try to have it neutered.

Don’t ever speak about the evil that you see around you, dear reader. It is muuuuuurrrrrder, see?

Sorry, Frankie boy, but this is not going to wash. We are going to speak, and we are not going to go soft on you. Because we really, really have had enough of your hate for Christ and the Church, and we are waiting for you to finally die and perhaps, after 72 hours in the coffin, start stinking a tiny bit less than you do now.

However, we can guarantee you this: that, bad as you are, we are going to pray for your conversion to Catholicism, and will not stop wishing you the grace of a happy death.

So no, you won’t have the satisfaction of trying to drag us in hell with you (your, by far, most probable destination anyway) either.

The Wexford Carol

Once In Royal David’s City

Meet The Wrestlers

I am sure you have read it several times, same as I did (last time, actually, yesterday). Someone is “battling” against a certain truth of the faith, or “wrestling” with another.

It is so XXI Century, isn’t it? The writer gets to feel a courageous, critical thinker, raising his towering intellect against the hard, cold wall of the faith, but without putting himself in enmity with it, which he knows is a no-no in the circles he is addressing. This is, normally, made from a position of assumed goodness (which, in fact, makes the writer look, and feel, even better). The critical thinker, who is intellectually developed and extremely compassionate at the same time, wrestles with the fact that he feels, and think of himself, as better than Jesus.

You see, Mr Wrestler does not really like the idea of anybody going to hell; he just cannot stomach the idea of Rajesh, his oh so good Backgammon pal, going to hell after he dies; he never knew of a suicide whose act he did not justify with some form of “depression”; he always thought that every lurv comes from God, which is why he has been wrestling with the Church position on sodomy. The list is extremely long.

In all this, Mr Wrestler (and his lawfully wedded wife, Mrs Wrestler; albeit their daughter lives in sin with Dahlia, they/them, a non-binary student now getting her PhD in gender studies) feels that delightful titillation of challenge, the same one he had when he, during his hippie phase, loved to defy conventions by smoking marijuana and occasionally “experimenting” together with his future wife, who also always found girls sexually attractive. Both remember that time fondly, you see, because “it made them what they are now”: two wonderfully inclusive middle aged people who smile to everyone with the same, guru-like, childish smile as they preach tolerance and love for all, whilst they cancel from their Facebook every Trump supporter.

They feel good with themselves, the Wrestlers. They feels so good, in fact, that this exclusionary, heteronormative, more than vaguely homophobic, very Capitalistic, and pretty judgmental Jesus makes them feel so delightfully uncomfortable, so fascinatingly rebellious, even as they still claim to include Jesus in their very inclusive (racist excepted, which is everybody they disagree with) Weltanschauung.

There must be a way, surely, to make Jesus as good as they are?

The Wrestlers will, very likely, keep wrestling to their last day. They will positively boast of it. They will make sure that everybody knows. They will keep smiling at you like an apprentice New Age guru. They will, secretly, wish they could be him (which would not work, because their social circle is full of Christian wrestlers like them).

We leave them on their own, as they sanctimoniously smile at us with their hands joined in a vague, but very inclusive-looking, “namaste” sign.

We wish them all the best, too.

But we know that we, for ourselves, will not want to die carrying any of that wrestling with us.

Shepherd’s Pipe Carol

Aut Deus, Aut Homo Malus.

I was reading yesterday about one of those former apologetics now , poor man, going fast down Satan’s drains. The guy was not saying, but implying, that Christ might have lied to him. It is fitting, I think, to say two words about this.

A person who dealt with apologetics should actually know much, much better; but even a normal layman with some discernment can easily reflect on this: that 1) Christ was not mad, and 2) He clearly claimed, as can be readily evinced from an attentive reading of the Gospel, that He is God.

So, we have someone here who, besides performing miracles right and left, and fulfilling the Old Testament prophecies in countless ways, claims something so massive, so utterly definitive, that He would be the most evil person of all if he were just lying.

Now, let us go down this rabbit hole and let us reflect on what the logical consequences of this absurdity would be. We would have a sort of mad guy, of whom not even his opponents claimed he was mad, endowed with astonishing powers consistent with those prophesied for the Messiah, and never seen before or after, and going around preaching a message of astonishing goodness, all the while being determined to lie to you and, to top it all, in the end so taken in this not-mad-madness that he dies a horrible death on the cross, like a common robber, just in order to cheat everyone to the end.

This is absurd in so many ways, and it has so many untenable ramifications, that only a man who is going, very fast (please pray for him) down Satan’s drain can even entertain such absurd notion, much less put his reflections on Twitter for other lunatics (of whom the place abounds) to share the madness with him.

The reality is much, much simpler.

Aut Deus, aut homo malus. Either God, or an evil man. But clearly not mad, and clearly not an evil man.

Therefore, God.

And if God, clearly good. If God, clearly truthful. If God, then, unavoidably, the Way, the Truth, and the Life.

God does not lie to you. Not with an evil intent, and not even to help you in some way with a white lie. Truth is Truth.

You would think a person with a certain knowledge of Christianity would grasp that easily.

It does not seem to always be the case.

Star Carol

The Turd Era And You

I have just read this long article about Recognize and Resist. If you pay attention to what I write, you will know that I am fully in agreement with this position, which I find the only sensible one. In fact, it seems to me that any other position (three are mentioned in the article) is the fruit of a) wishful thinking; b) la-la-la-la-la, finger-in-the-ear attitude; or c) pure fantasy world.

As long as the entire planet, and the SSPX, recognise the Evil Clown, I will look at reality in the face and say that we have an evil clown as pope.

Though luck.

Deal.

If that shocks you, perhaps you should readjust your opinion of the Pope as an institution.

I grew up in the Italy of the End Sixties/Early Seventies, and what I have received of Catholicism in my childhood I have received from school (State Religion, blessedly), aunts, grandparents and, in part and later, church. Therefore, there was never a Pope in my life I could esteem. Again, if this is shocking to you, perhaps you thought a Pope is a pet that makes you feel oh so fuzzy inside. I have bad news for you: to millions of Europeans, the Pope has been, for many decades, the one who manages the decay of Christianity and sells the Church in instalments. And they are still Catholics. Big time.

What is happening now is something that some parts of me knew could happen, though I must say I am, myself, shocked at the virulence of Francis’ hatred for the Church. I have seen Popes selling out for decades. I refuse to stick my head in the sand because we now have one with no qualms at all about it.

When John Paul II was Pope, there was no stupid slogan he would not adopt. He would constantly blather about peace as if peace were the end, not one of the means, of a Christians existence. You would think he identified the one with the other. He made of himself a rock star. He constantly blathered about ecumenism and interreligious dialogue. He was a walking, talking common place. I wasn’t a churchgoer at the time, but even I (who did not know, at the time, about the offences in Assisi, the details about the theological tightrope about capital punishment, and the like) understood that my grand aunts would, had he been a child trying to make himself beautiful with his modern Catholicism, slapped the face of this one all day long, and asked him if he wants more for dinner.

In fact, what was more surprising to me as I started to read the Catholic blogosphere was this boundless appreciation many foreigners, and particularly convert foreigners, had for the Pope. To an Italian Catholic, the statement “I converted to Catholicism because of Pope Benedict” makes zero sense, because the Church is 2000 years, of which 1992 non-Benedict years. Your Typical Italian Catholic, even if very devout, will regale such an enthusiastic pope-rooter with a wry smile, hope his awakening isn’t too harsh, and wish him well.

The slippery slope started decades ago, and did not stop with Benedict. If you don’t like Francis, you need to ask yourself why you ever liked his predecessors. They were the appetizers of Francis’ entree. They were the trailblazers for his heresies. Paul VI renouncing to the tiara, or JP II kissing the ground, had to produce a Francis at some point.

“But Mundabor, Mundabor!” – I hear you say – “This is unprecedented!”

No, it isn’t.

Vatican II is unprecedented! Paul VI is unprecedented! The Assisi gathering is unprecedented! Flirting with Modernism (as they all did: even your beloved Ratzinger, big time!) is unprecedented! The Rome-sponsored subtle rebellion against Catholicism is unprecedented! Francis is merely the very predictable byproduct of his predecessors!

Let me put it in a brutal way: likely since 1958, and most certainly since 1963, Popes have been farting over Catholicism with great gusto and for all the world to see. Francis is merely the one who, at last, produced the turd.

There, I have said it.

How does my rather realistic view of Pope Francis influence my Catholicism? I don’t know: like a nasty mosquito influences your day? I expect that an unprecedented rebellion against the truth of the faith should produce unprecedented bad popes. It does not help to look at what the Church has said, in the past, about the need to obey the Pope. Those commands implied a sound Pope! Was Archbishop Lefebvre bad when he did something unprecedented and refused to close his seminary? Are you all, every one of you, not glad that he did?

Unprecedented rebellion ( = V II) causes an unprecedented barbecue of Satan’s troops within the Vatican gardens. This generates a diffuse level of heresy, plus perversion galore. This, in turn, generates horrible prelates. This, in turn, generates horrible Popes. It has to be so, because Christ does not leave such a rebellion unpunished.

Therefore, let us open our eyes to the reality of our time. Let us recognise that we live in the time of the Turd Popes. Let us realise that this had to be the logical consequence of decades of Turd Theology, Turd Seminaries, Turd Bishops, and Turd Cardinals. Let us understand that this will only end when God decides we have been punished enough; and at that point, likely, with a cry from the people for the end of the Turd Era.

It was given to me to live in the time of Pope Francis. I will do the best I can with the times I have been given. It’s not all bad, either, and I have more opportunities to learn real Catholicism than most before me.

It makes no sense to ignore the facts under the sun. It is much wiser to understand, and put in the proper context, why we are plagued by such facts.

Turds stink. But truth shines.

Direct your gaze towards the latter and you will be just fine.

The Coventry Carol

The Holly And The Ivy

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