Monthly Archives: August 2022
I read an article purporting that conservatives are happier than liberals. The reasons addicted were several, and marriage and religion played an important role. I don’t know about marriage, but I would like to add my thoughts on religion.
Let us take two guys, Atheist Guy and Christian Guy. Christian Guy is the guy we all know. We can leave him aside for now, but keep him in mind as a contrast.
Atheist guy believes that he was born because of a bizarre combination of coincidences, that have no rhyme and reason and merely, in a sort of statistical freak case, happened. As a consequence, he believes that all the human feelings and experiences – like falling in love, believing in lurv, and the like – are but the consequence of that other statistical freak, his own DNA, trying to keep living and perpetuate itself.
Atheist Guy, who thinks the fact that Earth is inhabitable is the result of another freak statistical case, is terrified that this might end at any time. Too many cows farting, too many cars around, too many aeroplanes around the Skies, and all this will end! Boy, there is enough to have your day utterly ruined by breakfast time!
Nor does Atheist Guy have any consolation in sight. If he was born relatively poor, as most people are, he will see the immense difference in born wealth around him as a sick joke of that Statistical Freak, his DNA. The same if he is, say, ugly, or physically disadvantaged, or in any way less privileged than others. One is born rich, smart, and beautiful. Another is born poor, dumb and ugly. There is nothing behind it but the sick joke of one’s DNA. What a cheering, consoling thought!
His problems, though, do not end here. Aware that, at some point, his heart will cease to beat and he will be just as gone as the fly captured and eaten by the spider, Atheist Guy will feel a desperate thirst for purpose and meaning for his – that much is clear to him – fundamentally senseless existence. He will, in a way, try to cheat the obvious absurdity of his entire Weltanschauung with a fabricated, man-made religion. Now, he has something vaguely resembling a purpose; still a self-deception, of course, as every Atheist who stops and thinks must realise; but a pleasantly numbing one and, in any way, everything he’s got.
Plus, Atheist Guy still has a mighty reproduction urge and, absurd or no absurd, he will look for ways to satisfy it. Virtue Signalling is, clearly, the way, a clear mechanism for the Male of the Species to procure copulation opportunities for himself (he is, of course, fully aware that this is his DNA working on its own project; but he is horny anyway, so he doesn’t care).
The Atheist Activist is, by now, born. Every man-made cause will be good enough, and will provide for another little flag to add to his Twitter profile. From inequaliteee to cliiiimate chaynggg, and from ge-yn-der stuff to cow advocaceeee, Atheist Guy will do all he can to show that he cares, without ever stopping to think that, if he thinks it through, the only thing he cares about is for his and other people’s DNA to keep manipulating everybody and perpetuating themselves.
Atheist Guy will become a Celebration Master. He will celebrate every life of which he knows it is, if he thinks it through, just as absurd as everybody’s else. He will be the cheer girl for every wrong cause. He will, in fact, hate those pesky Christians and their judgmental belief, because he will see that they have that kind of quiet, unassuming, fundamental serenity forever denied to him.
It does not end here. Having expunged the concept of sin from his consciousness as superstition, Atheist Guy will likely drown in a sea of filth. From drowning in porn, to taking drugs of various degrees of addiction, to non-judgmental approval of any and all perversion, to the forced approval of everything he is not supposed to be judgmental about (his buddy screwing his wife; other guys screwing his wife; other guys’ wives screwing his wife; and his wife taking him to the cleaners when she decides to be his ex-wife, because patriarchy), our guy will have his head so full of filth and PC rubbish that he will soon not even know what human orifices are for, or that a guy born with a little friend is actually a male. The flags, meanwhile, will keep growing in number, rotating away when they have served their purpose, and some New Great Cause beckons.
I could go on for a long time, but you get the drift.
That one would need to even make a statistical survey to prove that religion, common sense and mental sanity are the only way to a purposeful, fulfilled life truly is beyond me.
You don’t need any survey.
This stuff is under your eyes all the time.
I am, as you all know, Italian. I am, like every Italian, fully aware of the danger that earthquakes represent in the life of many Italians, and of the countless tragedies that earthquakes have caused and, no doubt, will continue to cause in my wonderful Country of birth.
Still, I always have a rapid rise in my adrenaline level when I read of Francis instantly canonising someone because he has died in an earthquake; or, as one will naturally assume at that point, because he has died suddenly.
In L’Aquila, the place of a devastating earthquake in 2009, Francis has gone on record with the following words, referred to the families of the victims:
The Pope assured that in Jesus’ heart “are written all the names of your loved ones who have passed from time into eternity.”
Well, obviously, everybody who dies, even Stalin, immediately passes from time to eternity, and I cannot imagine that Jesus actually forgets the names. However, the context of the phrase and the fact of the particular mention of “Jesus’ heart” make abundantly clear that, here, what Francis is talking about is, exactly, salvation. Salvation, that is, *for all the victims of the earthquake*.
It’s difficult not to see a huge sin of presumption here. We never know when our moment comes, and it may come very suddenly. When the moment comes, God’s grace may have allowed us to meet Him in a state of grace, or not. If the latter is the case, it’s hell.
This is a universal rule. It applies to people dying in earthquakes, to people dying in Auschwitz, and to people dying after 34 long years of activity as Atheist Missionary. A tragic and sudden death, or an unjust death, does not merit paradise for anyone. On the contrary, a tragic and sudden death reminds us of how important it is to think of death and its consequences whilst we are alive.
Now, we don’t have the entire conversation, and God knows these soppy “c”atholic publications always look for the soppy headlines and the soppy quotations. It may be that Francis has inserted his words within the traditional Catholic framework of the hope that those who have died in the earthquake may have been in the state of grace when they died. Alas, we are talking of Francis here, not of any even halfway reasonable Pope.
Therefore, I am inclined to believe that the guy really has blurted out a huge sin of presumption here.
Seen his record, I am not surprised, either.
I have never been a fan of Shia LaBeouf. In fact, I have always considered him a galactic idiot. I think I am not the only one.
We have now been informed that Mr LaBeouf has converted to Catholicism. Quite coincidentally, he is also in need of publicity; firstly, because his public image has almost gone down the drain as a whole and he needs to revive it, and secondly, because the guy will also star in a film on the life of Padre Pio, and there is no doubt that this one here is the perfect stunt.
“Don’t be so cynical, Mundabor!”, my charitable readership will haste to clamour. Well, dear charitable readership, I am somewhat cynical, and I do not easily believe in people who “have changed”, just at the time when it is most convenient for them to say so. The fact is, if Shia LaBeouf was an idiot twelve months ago, what makes you think that he has suddenly become intelligent and, on top of that, spiritual? Have we not already seen many of these conversions of people who love to call themselves “spiritual”, and only want to nourish their extremely vast ego? Heck, if you ask that obscene, pathetic old slut who chose the name of the Blessed Virgin as her stage name, she will most likely tell you that she is spiritual!
Plus, the guy might have decided to convert in light of contacts he had with Bishop Barron. Don’t get me wrong (yes, I *have* to *always* say it!), I think there is *some* Catholicism in Barron. However, what Catholicism there is, is of the fashionable, fuzzy, Coca-Cola Light sort. The guy can’t even manage to believe that there are people in hell. What kind of Catholicism can you learn from a guy like this?
You understand, now, why my cynic-metre is reaching peak level.
However, as a devout of Padre Pio (my absolute favourite Saint, whom I ask for his powerful intercession every day), I can also not completely exclude that the great Saint has been allowed to show, with this rather unintelligent individual, the power of a Saint’s intercession. The actor has also, apparently, said some positive words about the Traditional Latin Mass, which is another good sign (of course, he would get in close contact with the Traditional Latin Mass during the acting, provided the screenplay is not entirely horrible).
I have given a look at Rebellion, the Canadian production company of this movie. They seem largely OK, and have a keen interest in Italo-Canadians. The movie might, in fact, be good, and give us the real Padre Pio instead of the one imagined by Father Georgina. It’s not a big production, and it’s not Hollywood rubbish. We shall see.
The proof of this pudding will be, if you ask me, in the next years. If LaBeouf is really interested in Catholicism, this will transpire in his tweets, interviews, and public statements, because you expect that one who could be so obnoxious before changing will be able to at least open his mouth after changing. He will, also, most likely, be asked about his position about controversial issues. From his answers we will see if he says it, or he means it. And I don’t mean here “I so much love the Traditional Latin Mass”, I mean “sodomy is a sin crying to heaven for vengeance” stuff.
For now, my dear readers, I invite everybody to take this with a whole bag of salt. It’s not good for Catholicism if we run to “celebrate” every more or less famous public figure who claims to be on our side, and then regularly look like easily duped simpletons.
Still, best of luck to the guy, and let’s see if he delivers the goods.
After my last post about the horrible perversion of tranniedom, reader Skeinster asks:
What will be the punishment for the parents who, for whatever reason, connive to push their innocent young children into this life? Many are predicting that their temporal end will be murder by the children they mutilated, once they fully comprehend what was done to them.
This is, I think, occasion for a couple of considerations.
The first one: I am pretty sure that such mutilations of teenagers have been going on for years, without the general population being even really aware that such things happen. I knew that there was a clinic, in the UK, specialised in such satanic exercise only when the clinic was shut down. From the same article, it is to evince that the same clinic has been operating for ten years!
You would think that such issues would cause a debate even much more ferocious than the one about Pervo”marriage”, as everybody in the UK actually claims to care for minors! But no. It seems like this stuff has been smuggled under the pretext of “health care” for people “suffering” of “gender dysphoria” (boy, how many stupid words people invent when they get mad…) and hey presto, you have a dedicated clinic for that as the perv groups (also mentioned in the article linked) complain that this taxpayer-paid service is not fast enough.
The article does not mention the lowest age involved in this. One case of hormone blockers at 16 is quoted. I don’t know what else happens, but I really cannot exclude that, if some satanic parents think that their child should be mutilated at a young age (say: 14) the NHS would actually say “no”. Mind, I hope they do. But we live in disturbing times.
Now, as to the “child”, or rather teenager, some harsh words from me. I refute to believe that a child who has reached the age of reason (say: 7, 8, 9 at the latest) can *ever* arrive to the point of clamoring for a mutilation without having already perverted himself in a massive way. A child of seven can commit a mortal sin. He has, therefore, already the fundamental principles of natural law etched in his consciousness. A youth of, say, 14 or 15 can, most certainly, not consent to, and desire, such stuff, and call himself innocent.
However, this statement must be integrated by the following ones: that a perverted adolescent can, by God’s Grace, go back to normality (I would say this is much easier in a teenager than in an adult), but the parents’ actions make it impossible for him to have a normal life afterwards (and, in fact, they will make it much more difficult for said adolescent to go back to sanity, after insanity has already disfigured and mutilated him), and that such satanic parents are also 100% responsible for all the suffering they inflict on their offspring. The earthly justice will not be able to touch them, as this stuff is, very obviously, legal; but the heavenly one will be, bar repentance, extremely harsh.
We live in a world where minors (I positively refuse to call a 14, 16, or 17 years old boy a “child”, this is stuff for the PC crowd who want to cry about all the huge Black teenagers a’ la Michael Brown) can be mutilated for life, and this is not even the object of a devastating, year-long, “front and centre” public debate.
This is what happens when the word “phobic” is weaponized, and used by a minority of perverts to cow normal people into submission.
One of the most surprising things for those in our church who bar transgender people from the sacraments, and try to negate their existence, will be meeting the many holy transgender people in heaven, already participating in the heavenly banquet, the last finally made first.Father Georgina
I don’t need to tell you where this quote is from, because there is no prize for guessing that this is, in fact, out of the degenerate and disturbing mind of Father Georgina.
This is wrong in so many ways it is difficult to know where to start.
A so-called “transgender” (to me and you: a *man* so possessed by evil that he thinks he belongs to the other *sex*;, or, alternatively, but much more rarely, a *man* so raving mad that he thinks the same) is the very epitome, the most disturbing visual evidence of what rebellion to God does to a *man*.
This man (let us imagine, for a moment, that this particular freak case is a man thinking he is a woman; there probably is the opposite madness, too, but I think it’s more rare) cannot bring himself to accept the very first, most elementary characteristic of his physical being: that God made him a man.
This rebellion becomes, then, so extreme that this man goes to an extraordinary length to try to excise, eliminate, eradicate the very (physical) essence of what he is. From hormone treatments, or rather poisoning, to silicone implants, to amputation, this *guy* will take shocking steps to maim and deform himself into a freak show, battling all his life the most evident way God made him.
Male and female He created them.
Someone should inform Father Georgina.
It does not end there, of course. How many of these people are, in fact, prostitutes for people with extremely perverted tastes I don’t know, but they must be many. I wonder what Father Georgina makes of that. Our fault, I suppose. Strange, I thought God forces no one to commit evil. But then again you must, in order to believe that, believe in God in the first place.
Where it often really ends is, of course, in suicide. I don’t know exactly how such statistics are compiled, but the figures, that you can easily find around, showing that a staggering number of these people commit suicide (say: 80%), is another indication that, when Father Georgina dies, he will discover he is, indeed, in the company of a lot of trannies, but not quite in the place he told us they would be.
Suicide is, is in the end, the most evident and definitive form of rebellion to God. That a person whose rebellion has already gone to the point of amputation and disfiguration should end his rebellion with self-destruction is only the natural end of the trajectory. Not only is the obsessive evil driving these *men* naturally inclined towards such end result; but, in fact, this end result is actively promoted and suggested to the conscience of the disfigured *men* by the very devil, who wants to secure the prey for himself as soon as may be, lest – which, rarely, will also happen – the so disfigured man should, by God’s grace, wake up to his madness and recover sanity.
If a trannie can so easily rejoice in heaven, then why not a Satanist? In what is the rebellion to God of a Satanist less definitive, life-transforming, actually life-informing, than the one of a trannie?
No. It does not work that way. Bar repentance, such a radical rebellion must end in radical punishment. Every trannie who, able to think for himself, dies in the persuasion that he is a member of the other sex, and therefore obviously and openly rebelling to God, must end where all such rebels end. There is no way you can turn this on its head, as it would be tantamount to making a mockery of Christianity itself.
It’s repentance or hell. It’s dying at peace with Christ or hell. There is no exception for obsessive perverts.
But no, we are asked to believe that heaven is that inclusive place where everybody gathers after death (or suicide), and where, it is implied, we discover that we were wrong, together with 2000 years of Christianity.
I don’t know what toys this man has at home, but I don’t think they are model cars.
As for me I will have Christianity, thanks.
I can’t post the mugshot here because it’s in the wrong format, but you will see it here (Achtung! Strong stuff!). As an antidote, enjoy the Blessed Virgin on this page.
If you think this is a Trump Republican, whatever you are smoking is killing you very fast.
The worse is to think that this guy might be a fairly common sight on European streets in 10 or 20 years, as the non-judgmental virus infects vast parts of the population who grow up thinking that Twitter is actually a church. This guy will, then, look good (so to speak) in the company of trannies and pervs of all stripes and colours. The likes of AOC will praise all them as symbols of transgression, and demand that everybody accepts them. Those who disagree will be branded with words not coined yet, but certainly ending with “phobic”.
The guy deals, on the side, in human parts, like bones. Interesting chap, this one. Even more interesting is that there is a market for such “products”. No, that’s not MAGA merchandising, either.
This is what abandoning God does to you.
Look at the picture again.
This one smells of reprobation from Kiev. Actually, he looks like a Satanist, or like one who wants to look like one (I don’t any any experience in Satanism; I should ask Mr John Podesta, he certainly knows more…). But there was, I am sure, a time where even Satanists did not go around like cartoon characters and, in fact, in those times perhaps there were not even the cartoon characters this guy is trying to look like!
Now, we are confronted with the mugshot of The Walking Evil and told that this guy lives in, pretty much, Small Town Pennsylvania (yes, I have looked).
No, this is not a Trump Guy.
This is a Podesta/Clinton guy.
Funny how well they actually manage to look the part.
Bishop Barron has commented on the comments to an interview he gave to a famous blogger-live interviewer.
Two hours of the stuff. I will pass, thank you.
The words of the Bishop are as follows:
Without a doubt, the most common negative reaction was that I was speaking “gobbledygook,” or tossing an unimpressive “word salad,” or “using lots of words to say nothing at all.” Much of this critique was focused on my opening exchange with the interviewer. Lex asked me very simply, “Who is God?” I responded, not sentimentally or piously, but rather in the technical language of philosophy. I said that God is ipsum esse subsistens (the sheer act of being itself), in contradistinction to anything other than God, in which essence and existence are distinguished. I went on to clarify the meaning of these terms in the manner of Thomas Aquinas, attempting to be as precise and technically correct as possible. To be sure, there are many ways to talk about God, but I chose, with Lex’s audience in mind, to use a more intellectual approach.
Good Lord! And then they say we are in a crisis! With Bishops like this one, we would be in a crisis if the entire population had an unquenchable thirst for the religious phenomenon (which is, most clearly, not the case)!
Yeah, pal. People who are listening to a Bishop talking about God are certainly yearning for your “intellectual approach”. Grand. So smart.
If you ask me “Who is God?” I do not answer with St Thomas Aquinas. I know that my audience, and everybody come to that, is not interested in philosophical definitions; they are interested in the crux of the matter, that is: the Four Last Things. My answer would be along the lines of:
“God is the Omnipotent being who made you, me, everybody, and everything else. He is the One who has given to you rules about how to live this life. He is, also, the One who will reward you forever if you have made a serious effort to please Him (we’ll discuss this in the next two hours), and will punish you forever if you haven’t, or if you have worked against Him, denied Him, despised Him, or worshipped a false god. He, and His judgment of you, are the only assured things in your life, and by far the most important ones. Nothing is as important as Him. Mind my words today, because one day, without fail, you will be reminded of them!”.
The following answers would have been along the same lines: there is a reality that atheists are trying to ignore, but that will catch up with them with absolute certainty. It will not count in their favour that they did not believe, or that they believed a false god. Mock Christ now, pay the price later, and so on. Yep, it goes for the Muslims, to likely 99%, too. Yep, the same applies to Jews. Yep, let us not even talk about Hindus at alia. Yep, it’s harsh. Focus your mind now, then.
Two hours of that, and I assure you the term “word salad” will not appear anywhere.
I don’t know if St Thomas Aquinas would have agreed with this answer. What I am sure of is that no one of my listeners would have accused me of saying gobbledygook, or producing word salads. In fact, I can assure you that, whenever I touch the issue with non-believers and infidels, I give them such a spoonful of my medicine that “gobbledygook” is the last thing they think of it!
Caveat for the “don’t get me wrong”-types out there: I lost friends, and I am proud of it. I have been laughed at in my face. I have been belittled, mocked, and insulted. Still: I don’t think I have ever been considered one who “uses a lot of words to say nothing at all”. Newsflash: it’s because I don’t.
But why does the Bishop answer in that way? For the same reason for which he goes on with his word salad for two, surely interminable, hours: the desire not to be the guy with the harsh news.
The modern, V II Bishop is affable, accultured, always appropriate. He will (try to) impress you with his Aquinas. He will bloviate for two hours in such a humorous, intelligent way. But at the end, no one will go to sleep, that night, thinking “I hate that guy’s self-assured, judgmental, hom-mof-fobeek attitude; but boy, I’d like to have his certainties! What if he is, in fact, right?”
There is a reason why bishops are called “shepherds” instead of “philosophy professors”.
Someone should inform Bishop Barron about his job description; because he seems, to me, rather confused.
In the last days, objections have been made to the fact that many of those who write about Catholic matters do so anonymously. As always, there is no scarcity of people who indulge in easy accusations of what they don’t like, and can’t control. Let us examine what this is all about and the many valid reasons for anonymity on the internet.
(click on the link to continue)
Sissified Men: Reblog from 4 April 2019
You see them more and more often now. On lifts, buses, trains. Queuing at the till. Talking to each other as they walk.
Their gesture, their tone; the way they walk, their posture when they stand. The way they cross their legs, chastely protecting an imaginary vagina, when they sit on the underground. Their clothes, with those ridiculous tubular trousers, three inches too short, that say “I am making an effort to look unthreatening”.
They can’t be all inverted.
There is a sub-cultural poison going around that is threatening the very bone marrow of this Country. I blame the explosion of “single motherhood” (once upon a time, called “bastardhood “) , that causes millions of boys to grow up without the army of men around him with whom every child growing up in my generation had constant contact. Not only this causes a lack of manhood models; it…
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Today we talk about three little CNN heroes of the Trump years. Sadly, it appears that, of the three, no one has remained.
What you see in the microscope, if you look very attentively, is a little violin playing.
The first to go was Chris Cuomo, known even to my cat as “Fredo”. Beside faking lockdowns and doing all sorts of antics, the guy was unethically helping his older brother, Big Andrew, to fend off the many accusations raining on him of being, well, quite a little pig. Big Andrew could not avoid the fall, so you can imagine that Fredo also had to go. Ouch.
But Fredo, who wasn’t as dumb a little pig as they thought at CNN, didn’t go silently. He sued CNN and, quite smartly, pointed out to similar episodes of unethical behaviour within CNN who were known to all, but went gloriously unpunished for years.
Enter Big Jeff Zucker, the guy with a sweet tooth for inside treats (Zucker is, in fact, Sugar in German). Zucker was, for years, the lover of Allison Gollust, another big whig at CNN, something of which nobody was every officially informed. This is, clearly, a no-no, and even CNN had to see it; but of course, only after the scandal had erupted, because this is how these people roll. There goes little pig number two.
The one remaining was Brian Stelter, the guy with a face resembling (literally) one of the Three Little Pigs, and the third sworn enemy of Trump. An activity, this one, which, as you might or might not know, is extremely fashionable in New York and will do a lot to promote your personal and professional life alike.
We are now informed that Mr Stelter is going to abruptly depart CNN. We have not being informed about the reasons yet, but one can well imagine that the catastrophic viewer figures of CNN after poisoning the political life of the Country for years did play a role. Be it as it may, that’s Little Pig number 3 down.
One part of me, deep down, if you look long enough, actually almost feel a little sad. It was fun mocking these people. It was, actually, quite entertaining seeing how they dedicated themselves with abandon to the Most Favourite New York Pastime. Oh, how it made them feel important, and loved, and relevant, and oh so cool among the degenerates of all sorts sipping champagne in the Big Apple!
Sic transit gloria mundi.
It is so, so sad, I might even decide to make a huge effort and try to shed a tear.
You know I am joking…
The Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate were persecuted by Francis based on zero point zero evidence. The order, and its founder, were slandered and dragged through the mud for all the planet to see. Francis would care not one bit for evidence, or for a shred of decency.
This buddy of his, Cardinal Ouellet, is so fond of harassing women that he gets a class lawsuit against him. What does our own wannabe hero does? He orders a preliminary investigation, in charge of which he puts a close buddy of the Cardinal. The close buddy obviously decided that there’s nothing to see here, end of story.
At least, this Frankie-protege’ (literally) is not a homo. But hey, several other friends of Francis clearly appears to be. Think of Zanchetta, the buddy Francis couldn’t wait to make a bishop. And of course, we all think of Archbishop Paglia and the homo-fresco he commissioned to a homo-painter. Or of Monsignor Ricca, the guy with the Montevideo Lover, and the lift (or “elevator”) story whose details I don’t even want to know. Or of father Georgina, the man of whom everybody tries very, very hard to make us believe he is straight (and when you see a video of him, the game is up).
You will, hopefully, forgive me for thinking this: that Francis has no decency or shame; that he sees his position purely as a way to protect and reward his friends and those who have advanced his career; that he has an extremely alarming number of “friends” who are clearly bent (heck: one would be extremely alarming!); that he does not care for what Catholics think of him, because he despises Catholics in the first place; that he ruthlessly mocks, and clearly can’t stand, any traditional expression of Catholic piety and religiosity (those who pray the rosary for him must be mocked, and a boy with his hands joined in prayer is too much for him to bear); and that he ruthlessly persecutes those who dare being too Catholic, and too openly so: the Traditional Latin Mass obviously fills such a man with horror; the FFI I have already mentioned.
If you have forgiven me until now, I think you will accept my conclusion: that God has allowed an evil man, a man who clearly appears destined to have a very prominent position on the wrong side of eternity, to be made the Pope in order to show us that when you tamper with the holy traditions of the Church and sabotage her doctrine, you will get a Pope that is the visual representation of this deformity. This, I think, God has decreed that we will have to endure until He gives to bishops, cardinals and faithful the grace to finally shout that enough is enough, and to go back to sanity.
Francis is the symptom of the disease called Vatican II. Sadly, those who see this are a clear minority, with the others happy to sing diabetes-inducing hymns in church, identify Catholicism with niceness, and largely remove from their consciousness everything that Francis does. Their priests clearly help them in this because, hand on heart, I have never experienced a Pope so little mentioned from the pulpit than this embarrassing case study in the power of the devil.
Until the Great Awakening happens, I am afraid we will have to deal with Francis II, Francis III, perhaps Francis IV, and countless other cases of FFI, Ouellet, Zanchettas, & Co.
Pray, fast, and do penance.
This might go on for a while.
Every now and then, just for my amusement, I go visit those Reddit pages where people think that the Ukraine is winning. It’s like getting a history lesson in front of the mobile phone.
The self-deception that goes on there is quite astounding. Clever propagandists (or very dumb self-propagandists) create the narrative by creating new threads. The lemmings eat the lies willingly, avidly, desperately. They seem grateful that someone has, for one brief moment, helped them in their battle against reality. When the doubts assault them again, a new visit to Gaslighting Central will give them the craved injection of Copium again.
The method used by the propagandists is very simple: a lot of videos of unclear source, plus repeating all the obvious lies of the Ukrainian Government, plus belittling every loss.
Russia’s downfall is always about to happen. Their losses assume fantastic proportions for people who, actually, shell the Ukrainians 10 to 1 most of the time (this is, by the way, admitted by many Ukrainian sources themselves).
Severodonetsk was to be Putin’s Stalingrad. When it was lost, it became irrelevant in the great scheme of things because hey, we have Lisichansk. When Lisichansk, too, was lost, well that was a victory of sort because we inflicted to the Russians (de-humanised as orcs; it helps a lot by massacres) sooooo many purely imaginary losses we are now well, well in front of them. Then we keep retreating, and they keep advancing. But hey, they must be so, so demoralised!
It is, truly, a history lesson. This is Baghdad Bob on steroid, every day. This is Goebbels 24/7, but with a willed, chosen self-hallucination (plenty of sources to get the facts), a privilege that the Germans of 1944 did not have.
The truth is in the logic, and in the map.
The logic: the Ukrainians themselves admit a Russian superiority in artillery of 10 to 1. This was not so at the start, mind, where the relationship was likely 1.1 to 1 or 1.2 to one for the Ukrainians. This is because the Russians have taken out the Ukrainian artillery just like they have taken out the Ukrainian HIMARS, planes, or helicopters. They were there at the start, they are now dust, or rust.
Also, everyone admits 80% of the casualties in this conflict never saw an enemy, as they were killed or wounded from afar. Do your math.
The map: the Russians are advancing, bit by bit, through a huge number of extremely fortified positions, the fruit of 8 years of NATO money. There is nothing like that in Western Europe or the USA. Anyone who believes that the Russians only manage to advance a bit at a time in a normal situation ( that is: unaware of all the factories turned into fortresses, concrete anti-bomb tunnels, and the like), just because they have low morals, or no fuel, or are sad because they have left the cat at home, needs to get in touch with reality. Newsflash: the Russians are taking one heavily fortified position after the other, largely with artillery, rocket and missile work, and rolling over the position with their assault troops just at the end, against an enemy already brain damaged for life (look it up).
Slowly, methodically, safely, the Russians are taking out the Ukrainian army bit by bit, just as they are taking the Ukraine (or at least the part they are interested in) but by bit. Their casualties are very low, the ones of their enemies very high.
But no, keep listening to Dr Goebbels whilst the Ukraine shrinks like a towel washed at 95C.
Let’s see how good that proves in the end.
The Rosary Reblog II (16 October 2017)
We cannot, strictly speaking, merit Salvation. Strictly speaking, we cannot and do not merit anything at all. Whatever we have, God has given us. Whatever we attain, God has preordained that we should be given the grace to do so. This applies to absolutely everything we do, up to the last consequences and our eternal destiny. God has, in His Justice, preordained from all eternity whether we will be saved or damned, whether we are elects or reprobates. This brutal truth is a mainstay – nay, it is the foundation – of Catholic theology. If it were not so, God would depend on our decisions and would, therefore, not be Omnipotent.
I can, of myself, merit exactly nothing. What I do is merely collaborate with God’s grace; and even this collaboration is, in fact, nothing more than God’s grace: an unmerited gift.
The human mind being very limited, and unable…
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The Rosary Reblog (18 October 2019)
The Vatican has apparently launched an erosary app allowing people to pray the Rosary.
Let us set aside for the moment the fact that the Rosary app might actually track your use. Let us also forget that there are, in fact, plenty of free apps out there to do exactly the same.
What, as always, grates me is the wordliness.
The app is apparently destined to pray the Rosary “for peace”.
Nothing in FrancisChurch is to do with Christ, with Salvation, or with sin. Everything they do is directed toward the fashionable cares of the world, like the obsession with peace and with the environment; and in order to promote these issues nothing is safe: from the hammer and sickle crucifix Francis gratefully received, to the Rosary “for peace”.
I suggest to all my readers that they pray their Rosary today for the end of this Pontificate.
Who knows, if…
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The video above, which I saw some days ago, moved me to some rather sad reflections about the mentality prevailing in our days.
It is not only the saintly ways of the young man – botht in life and in dying – that struck me. It is the entirely different way in which the death of a 15 years old boy would be taken today, even by people who profess to be Catholics, compared to those times.
The dream of Saint John Bosco (which took place some 20 years after Saint Domenico Savio’s canonisation) describes a multitude of boys who clearly died at a young age, and were all, very clearly, happy in heaven and absorbed in such a total, all-encompassing glory even the total glory that was given to dream to Saint John Bosco was only a pale reflection of their real joy.
Every XIX Century reader of Don Bosco would, I am sure, instinctively understand the death of so many young boys as one of the ways a Provident God arranges everything in a wonderful way, though the beauty of it might not disclose itself to the reader in all its fulness until he dies.
Not so today. Today, many among even church-going Catholics would naturally understand – and, no doubt, Francis would encourage them in this – such an event as one that gives them the right to be angry at God, doubt Him, even antagonise or condemn Him.
Your typical Francis, as the one on record with saying that perhaps the Blessed Virgin felt herself cheated at the foot of the Cross, would likely approve of such feelings of rebellion, justify them, and consider them quite the healthy reaction. This is, also, quite in tune with the common “feeling” among lukewarm, wannabe, and hearsay Christians.
They all know, and have always known, that many children die. However, this knowledge never inspired them to doubt, or rebel to, God. But when it happens to their own child, clearly God must either have made a big, big mistake, or He cannot exist at all, because if He existed, He would never allow their own child to die; only the children of other, preferably African, certainly far away people!
This thinking, which is clearly absurd, is – I assure you – standard fare here in the UK, most assuredly among many, if not most, Catholics. It is, I think, the result of that most typical unspoken mantra of the V II Church: God’s good servant, but Me first.
We see this everywhere: in the soppy, man-made liturgy; in the deep involvement with the world; in the self-centredness; in the eagerness to absolve, nay, canonise ourselves and those dear to us no matter what their failings.
I wonder what their reaction would be, upon knowing that even among Don Bosco’s youth, many got lost!
But what I am saying… they would think it exaggeration, or even superstition.
They are so good after all.
Likely better than God, Who is so uncharitable and hoo-moo-phoo-beec.
And it came to pass that yours truly was walking, after working hours, on the streets of a busy English city, allowing himself a walk in the glorious (if a bit too strong) Friday afternoon sun before heading back to his humble abode.
So there was I, carelessly walking around (and, incidentally, thinking about Saint Domenico Savio, on whom I might write something one of these days) when I saw a strange figure walking in my direction.
He looked, from afar, a bit like one of those characters of Chinese plays, or like a wannabe male geisha. Already from a distance it was clear that a lot was wrong with him. He wore a long, black tunic, with gold-coloured decorations, of clear Chinese or Japanese inspiration. His face was, as was visible from afar, very – and I mean very – heavily made up, in a sort of “cement grey”. I have never seen anyone, male of female, made up in such a way. It was as if he was purposely trying to look ugly, or scary, or both.
He was walking on very tall clogs, or sandals. They were eight or ten centimetres tall, but the guy walked with them without any difficulty, betraying extensive practice with the instruments. There was, all around him, an indescribable, but extremely evident, air of lewdness. As my brain absorbed this extremely strong image elaborating its whisky tango foxtrot moment, it was clear this was not a character from a Chinese play. This was, if you ask me, a character from the sick fantasy of a very evil brain.
There is nobody between us as we walk toward each other, so I am in full view of the unreal sight. As he gets near, it is clear it is a man in his fifties, or sixties, his face heavily grooved by big furrows. If he was trying to look like a geisha, he was failing miserably. More likely, he was trying to give to himself a kind of hellish appearance, like an evil guy in some Chinese traditional tale. He was clearly a Westerner and, again, he had the heavily worn out face of the people who don’t age gracefully. He was walking with a clear purpose, like a guy who has somewhere to go.
Walking towards each other (he is faster; I have that leisurely stroll of the man without a destination) he looks straight before him whilst I, for one brief moment, look at him straight in the eye (I always give “the eye” to degenerates. It’s my way of being charitable. If you call me “homophobic” for that, I thank you wholeheartedly, but I’d like “Christian” instead).
His eyes did not meet mine, though they had become aware of my presence. He was clearly absorbed in his walk and thoughts. Still, in that short moment when we walked past each other, I got a close-range glimpse of his gaze.
And there I saw them.
Two green, ice cold, lifeless, motionless, emotionless, absolutely scary eyes were on display for that moment. It was the gaze of a man who has abandoned any concept of innocence, or piety, or decency, decades ago. It was the gaze of a guy who could torture you for hours without breaking a sweat. It gave me such a chill that I needed a couple of minutes to recover from that undefined sense of alarm you experience when put (normally, in movies) in the sight of evil eyes.
Instantly, I thought of those closeups of the eyes of a serpent you see in documentaries. He really had snake eyes.
As I was recovering from the alarm, I thought of what could reduce a man in that state, both in his outer appearance and in his interior life (or lack of it). I concluded that this guy was not an actor in some play, as he would not walk around the street in that way, but would change into his costume at the venue of his performance. He was, in my eyes, also not a trannie, either (this is more difficult to say as he was so heavily made up; but no, he wasn’t trying to look like a woman, as such, and his “old peasant” face would have condemned him to failure immediately if he had tried). It was, more likely, as if he was making every effort to be as alarming, lewd, degenerate, scary a creature as possible.
A half mad, evil man would, possibly, do this. A male prostitute for clients with extremely disquieting tastes would likely do that, too. My pint is on just that profession, and just that purpose.
Decades of that, and the snake eyes are easily explained.
I had to make a conscious effort to say a Hail Mary for the salvation of his soul, as this guy was so far gone in the opposite direction that one struggles to even imagine a conversion; but nothing is impossible to God, and the guy got his Hail Mary.
Not, however, before the Prayer to St Michael the Archangel that is my standard reaction to encounters with degenerates.
Every now and then, some newcomer leaves some snarky message or other.
Then, being a newcomer, and imagining this is a news service working full time for the gratification of his ego, writes another – outright insulting – message mocking me for “deleting” his message.
Perhaps these people think I work full time – for nothing – for the gratification of their little ego impulses.
Sadly for them, it is not so.
More sadly – for them – I am not interested in such people being part of the conversation.
This is a private effort, cared for when I have time for it, and any message anyone posts may have to wait one, two, or even three days for my perusal. After which, if I think the message is not appropriate, or obnoxious, or propagating ideas and fantasies I don’t want to be spread through my blog, I might well decide not to publish it.
This is, as I have already stated many times, my living room. It is not the street, and it’s not an online forum. It is, also, not a place for constant bickering in the style of Twitter or Facebook. I invest time in this, and I don’t want to also get angered every time I read the comments. Also, I don’t care for clicks or viewer figures, which is why my comments are strictly vetted.
I think the obnoxious behaviour I observe is to do with the Twitter and Facebook culture. Adrenalines all the time, and an expectation of snarky online confrontation at every step. This is, however, so different from real life, where if you enter my living room and start being offensive I will ask you to leave on the spot, and will never allow you back.
You won’t have a second occasion to make a first good impression, and I might delete a comment that I find inappropriate, or redundant, or rehashing things already discussed, or suited to spread heresies and fantasies like Bennyvacantism (the favourite fantasy nowadays, with all these conclave-in-one commenters deciding who is the Pope). Still, even the Bennyvacantists get through, rarely, when I want to make a point. Then it ends there, because *I make it end there*.
But the *first* insulting comment – not the second, or the third – that you write to me because your comment wasn’t online half an hour after you wrote it will get you banned. In fact, any insulting comment you write to me for whatever reason will get you banned.
Life’s too short for the Facebook crowd.
That I have to write such obvious stuff.
The “facebook culture” really has done a lot of damage.
As Benedicts approaches the grave, and after I received a comment on the other blog post from the reader Aqua, I would like to say two words on how I see the position in which Benedict has put himself with his abdication and his strange choice of title.
Benedict is a very well educated man. He is, also, very grounded in the Italian cultural environment. He knows that in Italy – other than in other Countries – to be a Celestino is another way of saying to be a coward. It really is a language usage well spread among the educated, who know their Dante.
Benedict knows his Dante, and he knows his Italians. He did not want to be a Celestino (though, let us be frank, he actually is). Being quite a cerebral guy, and wanting to abdicate without looking like a coward, he decided to keep the title Emeritus, using another language usage that every Italian knows from, say, university professors.
A Professor Emeritus does not have the job anymore. He is retired. But he has not run away. He is simply too old to keep doing his job, but he keeps the dignity of the office, which he does not want to be seen as simply discarding.
In Benedict’s very intellectual world, this makes him a guy who – like the Professor – does not cowardly retreats, but decides to simply pass the baton to a healthier, stronger Pontiff; who is then, clearly, the Pontiff, exactly in the same way as the Professor Emeritus does not have the job anymore, it’s the new guy who has it.
Why does Benedict does all this? Why does he just not abdicate, takes a title he already had (Bishop, Cardinal, Priest!), and asks a monastery of his choice to host him for the rest of his life? At the root of it all, I think the answer is: vanity, and concern for his legacy and reputation.
However, a guy like Benedict would have some excuses for his vanity. He likely reasoned that, upon becoming a Pope, he was not a cardinal anymore. He had the title of bishop, but without a diocese. He could have been Father Benedict, but again I think he was just too vain for that. Plus, all these titles, and the correspondent attire – purple, or black – would have reminded him every day that he has abandoned his post, for fear of the wolfs.
This is not what a Benedict does. A Benedict makes excuses for his lack of courage – like he did in his eight years as Pope: not going decisively against the homo lobby, allowing Summorum Pontificum to be largely neglected, and appointing horrible bishops all the way for the sake of a quiet life – and finds ways to justify his dereliction of duty. Hence the white tunic, the Emeritus title, and all the mess that ensued.
It must be said that, if the new Pope had been Pius XIII, nobody would be talking of Benedict now, unless to remember what improvement the conclave brought.
I have often made the comparison – known to everybody in Italy because of Manzoni – between crock vases and iron vases. Benedict is a crock vase all right. But he is a very intelligent, learned, cerebral crock vase, who will find one thousand excuses not to be the iron vase that is, actually, written in blood letters in the job description of a Pope.
Ultimately, Benedict failed in this as he failed in so many other things as a Pope.
He should know by now that he will forever remembered, in Italy and elsewhere, as a Celestino.
I don’t know exactly why that is, but I have noticed, all over the blogosphere, a noticeable (as a whole; you, my dear reader, are most certainly an exception) difference between Anglosaxon Catholic converts from Protestantism and cradle Catholics.
From my Southern European perspective, I cannot avoid noticing a rigidity, a certain lack of perspective (both human and historical) that I never saw around me growing up in Italy, back when religious feeling was still very strong among the old.
It is as if – possibly after peregrinations in several local Protestant churches, all of which left them dissatisfied in some ways – they would, upon knowing the Church, think that she must be the real deal and, therefore, without blemish. Sadly, the Church is, whilst undoubtedly the real deal, most certainly not without blemish.
Every tourist can, in Rome, visit the beautiful palace Pope Alexander VI gave, courtesy of the faithful’s purse, to his lifetime mistress and mother of his five sons.
Palace. Lifetime mistress. Five sons.
Let that sink in.
Episodes not quite as obvious as this, but, in their essence, like this one are countless. They are, in Italy, everywhere as the history of the Church is so closely intertwined with that of the Country. Italians, Frenchmen, Spaniards know this instinctively, because these episodes are a part of the cultural fabric of their Country.
When the Counter Reformation started, it is said that 90% of the priests were thought to have a mistress of sort (either an “official” one, or the willing, young, tasty domestic servant that was another very old European tradition). How must a devout faithful have felt, who knew his priest to have such a stain on his tunic? He certainly felt low esteem for his priest, and likely said it, too. But that this would come between him and the Church was absolutely out of the question; it would have been such a sinful enormity that it would have made, likely, pale the servant of the priest in comparison.
We see this rigidity in those “Bennyconverts” who, having converted to Catholicism under Benedict, seem to think that they have subscribed to that particular deal, and no other.
“I converted to Catholicism because I liked Benedict, but now I am confused and don’t know if I will stay” is another way of saying “I had a very bad conversion that was due to emotional and contingent reasons, and now the chicken are coming home to roost”.
The Church is forever, both on our planet and in our soul. You need to disconnect the institution from the people. Why do you stand up and sing “America the Beautiful” with full lungs even if a demented usurper lives in the White House, but doubt the infinitely more important, Divinely ordained, and Divinely protected institution of the Church?
When someone converts, he does not sign Benedict’s contract. He signs the contract of 2000 years of faithful Catholics inside the Church that Christ created, and which is the only one. There is no other shop and no other Truth, because there is no other Christ.
Francis, Cupich, Martin, and all those like them will soon be gone to their terrible judgment. To the Church, they are what a fly is to a horse. There will always be some pesky fly around the horse.
The Church is not, like a Protestant ecclesial community, defined by her leaders of the day. She is defined by the unchangeable Truths Her Creator gave her, and by the sixty generations of faithful who have abided by them during two millennia.
Benedict, Francis, Alexander, Father Georgina, and that guy Cupich are simply insignificant.
The (visiting) priest was on the pulpit, eloquently talking about how we will be judged when we die. Gesticulating like an Italian after the third glass of Chianti, he drove home to the audience the concept that Christ will reward us for what we have given to others, and consider against us what we have kept for ourselves. These were not his exact words, but you get the drift.
As always when I hear such statement, I was keenly waiting for references to Christ, that is: that this giving must be related to Christ. I tried hard to follow every word in the usual, appalling din caused by the usual, appalling kindergarten around the church (in case you don’t know, it’s now “free screaming time” in church. If you talk, you’re Putin’s evil cousin…), but I could not hear every word. Still, it seems to me such references were, if they were there, peripheral.
The impression that I have gained from the homily was, as you have already guessed, entirely secular.
“Be good, help and give of yourself to others” is entirely senseless in the modern society if it is not anchored and based in Christ.
Your average, badly instructed, fairly lukewarm, awfully “nice” pewsitter will easily understand the homily in the sense that inviting your professed homo neighbour to the garden party, and make him feel included, must be the height of Christian behaviour. The same goes for invitations to the mickey-mouse ceremonies these people stage for friends and relatives, etc. I am pretty sure the “preferred pronoun” easily fits into the category.
As always, if you take Christ out of the equation, you get the devil’s formula. “Goodness”, “giving”, even “being nice” are concept that, for a Christian, have no value in isolation and detached from Christ.
It is no “goodness” to encourage perversion or to imply it’s OK. The Christ-less “giving” – the kind that makes people who are on the wrong track think it’s fine to stay there – is merely a soft kind of evil.
Niceness, without Christ, means driving every day towards hell on a car with very soft suspensions.
Did the (visiting) priest realise it? Most likely, yes.
I think he just did not care.
The pope and the bishops and many of the priests hate the faithful they exist to serve, and they hate the faith they exist to protect. And according to Catholic theology, God has placed them in authority over both. This is mystifying to me. The same God who, according to long-held belief, allowed the already-vanquished Satan into the garden to tempt his innocent new creatures is also allowing Satan to run amok in his Church, possessing its leadership and weaponizing their God-given power over those compelled by divine command to submit to them. As a father, I cannot fathom this. It would be like allowing rabid dogs into the enclosure of my yard as my children are playing, and just standing back to see how things play out.
I’m honestly surprised how hard the news has hit me. I haven’t been to Mass in over a year, and even so, my blood boiled when I read what they are doing. I hate them right back, these contemptuous, retributive, evil sons of bitches. I spent my life being made to be afraid of “ever speaking ill of a priest.” But these are stone-cold villains who hide their malice behind roman collars and episcopal miters.
Thus spoke Mr Skojec; who, a long time ago, used to be a Catholic and is now an Agnostic. He has, not very surprisingly, the support – or, at least, understanding – of another guy who is, now, not a Catholic anymore, and actually writes the article whence I got the quote.
Being one of the guys who is not stingy with church criticism myself, I think I might be allowed to say a word or two here.
The pope and the bishops and many of the priests hate the faithful they exist to serve, and they hate the faith they exist to protect. And according to Catholic theology, God has placed them in authority over both. This is mystifying to me.
I don’t find it mystifying. I find it strangely beautiful, just in the same way as the soldier hates the war he is in, but also knows he’s living the most brutally exciting time of his life. We are in the trenches. We are being tested. We are being steeled. Our challenge is also our privilege.
This is our Crispin’s Day.
It has happened several times in the history of the Church, that priests and bishops have turned against their own faithful. This has happened in all cases when the heresy has been promoted by Bishops (say: Pelagius, or Arius). I am sure Mr Skojec knows this. Nor can it be said that, in those circumstances, Rome was on the right side. Pope Liberius wasn’t on the right side, Pope Honorius neither (people make excuses for them now, as they will for Francis in future). Who lost his faith because of them? Those of little faith, is the simple answer; or, rather, those who found convenient to lose it, and thought the evil Pope was as good a reason as any other.
The Church isn’t run by angels. We all know that and must be ready to deal with the consequences of it. Plus, several well-known apparitions have dealt with the present crisis, exactly in order to give more strength to the faithful. Why would a believer not turn to them for comfort, instead of condemning Catholicism in rebellion?
I see it in this way: countless generations before me had to deal with famine, plague, or the Saracens, but had a solid Church behind them. We do not have to deal with famine, plague, or Saracens (for now at least), but it has been given to us to be born in times of a weak, stained, sloppy Church. Every age has its own challenges. It’s not for me to decide which challenges I should have, and I frankly still prefer Frankie to the famine, the Plague, or the Saracens. My job is to die in God’s grace, having faced the challenges God sent me. I don’t get to decide whether I consider the challenge appropriate or not.
As a father, I cannot fathom this. It would be like allowing rabid dogs into the enclosure of my yard as my children are playing, and just standing back to see how things play out.
God allowed countless times to have children slaughtered in front of their parents. He allowed entire communities to be simply erased. He allowed sufferings that are difficult to even fathom for us spoiled Westerners with mortgage, designer pet with medical insurance, and Tesla in the driveway. We all know this. We also know that *it is not for us to decide what rabid dogs our children should be confronted with*. Providence adjusts things wonderfully every time. But we will only see the way Providence has worked when we die.
I hate them right back, these contemptuous, retributive, evil sons of bitches.
That’s the excuse reasoning. Not all priests are contemptuous, retributive sons of bitches. I would say a minority are. Most are lukewarm, of little faith, unable to stand up to the PC culture their bishop is also afraid of. Some will be degenerates. Some will be outright bad. Nothing new under the sun. But taking the behaviour of some as the reason to lose the faith is, again, an excuse. We don’t lose faith without our fault. We may be challenged, but if we lose the faith, we have collaborated with Satan every step of the way.
By the way, I was never afraid of speaking ill of a priest. Where I come from, everybody did. Clericalism of the sort mentioned by Skojec must have been, even in Catholic time, the preserve of uber-85 old ladies. I wonder if Skojec was a convert (can’t remember now). They tend to be rigid like that.
I consider being born, baptised and confirmed in the Catholic Faith the greatest grace in my life. In this, the evil of Frankie and others like this have just no relevance. I will think the same no matter how evil any pope, bishop, cardinal or priest you may care to mention. I will think the same the day a degenerate priest persecutes me.
I also know that, by God’s grace, the Church will always continue to produce a number of decent priests, just so we can get some comfort when things get really bad. Yes, they might be scarce. But they will be there, just like faithful Catholics will always be there. It will always be good to think that there still those who keep the flame alive.
And now I will tell you how I might start to lose my faith: I will start losing my faith when my ego gets in the way, and I start to measure everything according to how I want it, and my own preferences, and desires, and even my own idea of what my religion should be (yes, there is Satan in all this) start to be coloured by my own grand, and oh so generous, ego; that, dear readers, will be the day I will start losing my faith.
On that day, perhaps, I will feel very good, and generous, and better than the God I must, at that point, not believe in anymore.
But if that day comes I will not be good, or generous, or better than God.
I will just be in trouble, and will have the Enemy much nearer to me than I even suspect.
Biden is told to be about to declare Monkeypox a “public health emergency”.
From a Breitbart commenter:
Well at least shut down all gay bars, drag shows, and pride and fetish events. And, they should quarantine at home, stay away from the general public, and not go to work and close any business they should have.
Just two weeks to flatten the curve.
This comment is absolutely brilliant and, in fact, uses Biden’s “pro perv” narrative against himself.
Is this Faggypox so dangerous? well, shut all things perv down then!
Faggypox is demonstrably nothing to do with normal people and, therefore, not our freaking problem.
It really is time for Biden to shows he really caaaaaares for the minoree- tees and shuts them down in their own homes, as it was done with all of us when a nasty flu came around.
Nor should the gheee-ys complain:
“Flatten the curve”, remember?
“Protect the NHS”!
It’s for your own securee-tee!
*National Health System, the Socialist health care behemoth in the UK.
I was reading on Breitbart the article about the conviction of Brittney Griner and, immediately, it stroke me how “off” she looked, a mixture between a tall Obama with locks and a deranged Obama with locks.
Then there are the tattoos, of course. But in general, this one looked like quite the strange one.
Only shortly thereafter, I read the phrase at the bottom of the article:
“Today, American citizen Brittney Griner received a prison sentence that is one more reminder of what the world already knew: Russia is wrongfully detaining Brittney. It’s unacceptable, and I call on Russia to release her immediately so she can be with her wife, loved ones, friends, and teammates,” Biden said.
Notice anything strange here? Well I did:
Look, we have here another example of the Mad Generation. One who thinks that her position, her protected category number one (lesbian) and her protected category number two (“of colour”) will protect her from trouble; or perhaps she just thought that unique snowflakes like her can do whatever they want and hey, who is Russia to judge? This woman seems, to me, the perfect example of a subculture of empty, woke, perverted entitlement that makes people think they cannot be touched by anyone.
Turns out, Russia judges very well, and very aptly. Smuggling drugs in the Russian Federation would certainly not be seen with favour whoever the culprit it, but a person who abuses of her privilege (methinks, she was accustomed to have VIP treatment at airports, not many questions asked and whisked off to the business class in no time) and behaves in a foreign country like she is in the middle of the Tenderloin District in San Francisco can really not expect a great degree of leniency. Nine and a half years seems about right. She will likely be exchanged for some Russian US detainee the Russians want out, so if I was her I would not be so overly worried.
I think what happens now depends, in part, from the media. If the mad crowd starts the chants of ho-mo-pho-by-a, I suspect that Putin will delight in keeping the woman in jail at the cost of the Russian taxpayer, trolling the West no end to the delight of the public at home.
If the matter is kept quiet and the diplomats on both sides are left free to do their job without media interference, I bet my pint that the woman will be out to Perv Central in less than a year. At which point, she will have “Martyr” status, and woke images of her will be painted on every wall in Los Angeles.
If you think that the US are declining as a Country and losing their position of preeminence, you have in front of you one of the reasons why: stupidity, entitlement and, above all, degeneracy will do exactly this to a Country.
The recent events in Taiwan have showed an attitude that we have, unfortunately, experienced within the Church not many years ago.
Then, Cardinal Burke and other (meanwhile deceased) allegedly courageous paper tigers made strong noises, and anticipated harsh measures for the case of Pope Frankie The Red-Nosed Clown not answering their Dubia; after which, they folded and retreated like the wet kitten at the sight of the Rottweiler. But hey, they sure enjoyed the applause of sincere Catholic while it lasted.
Now, China made an astonishing amount of noise about Old Hag’s visit to Taiwan, rattling sabers with the US until it was heard in the Tierra Del Fuego; then folded miserably, allowing Old Hag to come and go as she pleases, undisturbed. They are now staging military exercises around Taiwan, like the boy who plays though guy after the dude who would give him a new face has gone away.
I do not pretend to be an expert in Chinese culture, but it seems to me that not losing face is even more important in China than it is in the West. Therefore, Xi has some ‘splaining to do, as no doctor prescribed him to put such a fuss (the visit could simply have been authorised, showing once again that China gives permission to foreign dignitaries to visit Taiwan). But no: he had to do it. Ouch.
The same you can, of course, say of Burke & The Wet Kitten (might be a name for a pop band; we should ask Cardinal Ravasi for his opinion on this).
Naturally, the ones and the others will make excuses, as excuses are in even bigger supply everywhere than oxygen. “I did not want to risk a world war”, “I did not want to risk a schism”, “I have chosen to be superior”, “my squirrel had a headache”, “my pet rabbit had tennis elbow”, and the like. Obviously, none of this can ever wash.
Look at Putin instead. When he says he would do something, he also does it, and leaves no one in doubt that it would have been better to listen to him whilst there still was time. When he thinks the time is not right, he avoids the sabre rattling and simply expresses his view on a certain event (like the entry of the two Nordic Dwarfs in NATO), staying cool as a cucumber whilst he deals with the matters that are a priority to him.
Again: I am no expert of Chinese culture, but I have no doubt that China barked extremely loud on this. Then they didn’t bite. Then they engaging in some more barking.
A very poor show. One fears that Xi learned his diplomacy from Burke.
Make no mistake, this round goes to the Americans just as the Dubia round went to Frankie. You can say that the Old Hag has caused such problems that no fundraising and show of force on the home front can compensate for it, but the fact is, she did what she chose to do and the Chinese had to watch her doing it. Frankie did, of course, the same.
There aren’t many people with brass balls around.
Xi has shown to everybody that, like Burke, he is not one of them.
Today -probably already tomorrow in England – Nancy Pelosi will do what the Biden administration seems to do all the time, and has a long tradition in American history: she will provoke her adversary and, if the adversary reacts, she will make him look as “the aggressor”.
FDR did the same with Japan. He wanted a war against Japan, but in a democracy like the US the way to do this with the nation behind you is to simply be attacked. Hence, the absolutely crippling sanctions imposed on Japan; which, at the time of Pearl Harbor, was just months away from being completely paralysed by the lack of needed raw materials like fuel. It does not matter, here, that Japan was a bloody, racist, imperialistic theocracy full of dumb ideas, or that, in theory, Japan could have solve the problem by leaving China. What counts here is the tactics the US use when they want to wage war against you, that is: I will provoke you until you attack. Then, I’ll have Congress and the American people fully behind me.
The matter was not different in the Ukraine. Since 2014, the USA and UK backed junta brought to power through a coup has killed 14,000 civilians in Donbas, constantly provoking Russia to a reaction which, at some point, was sure to come.
You will also – if you followed the events attentively – remember that, just days before the beginning of the Special Military Operation, the Ukraine greatly intensified the shelling of civilians, suddenly increasing it from twenty to two thousand shells a day. In the following days, Putin recognised the Donbas Republics, accepted their request to come to their help, and started the SMO.
You see the same pattern at work here: the US and the UK wanted this conflict, but they needed for it to look like the Ukraine is the victim. Mission accomplished, because the Twitter colonels and Facebook generals do not encumber their little, excitable minds with difficult things like reflecting why things happen. They had a new cause allowing them to signal virtue, and this is all they live for.
Taiwan follows the same pattern.
The US accept, since 1979 if memory serves, the “one China” doctrine. This means that they recognise Peking’s sovereignty over Taiwan. In fact, the US do not even have an Embassy in Taiwan.
This is the situation the US have accepted, and continue to accept. This being the situation, the unauthorised visit of high-ranking officials to part of the territory of China can only be seen as a senseless provocation. Not only is this against every conceivable rule of diplomacy, but it can well be seen as an act of war.
Pelosi & Co. do not care. What counts to them is – as in Pearl Harbor, and in the Ukraine – the optics. They want to provoke China to a reaction that makes them look bad, and Pelosi good.
Do the US want a war with China? Certainly not, though you should never underestimate the stupidity of people unable to even recognise a woman from a man. What they want is a desperately needed popularity boost before a mid-term election that could well prove very difficult to them.
I do not think anything massive will happen today/tomorrow. Pelosi might not fly and, if she flies, the Chinese will retaliate in a non-military manner.
But honestly, if the old bitch were to go down and disappear in a great ball of fire I would be very sad for the crew, but would not cry a single tear for the old harridan or the congressmen dumb enough to play her game.
Still, nothing will happen. I hope, though, that more people will open their eyes to what I have written above.
It is more complicated than “who has invaded whom”.
Doctrine develops. It starts from the hard base contained in the Gospels and revealed to the Apostles, then grows, organically and harmoniously, in the same way as an oak develops as it grows stronger and mightier.
Developing means, literally this: a completion, a flowering, an expansion of what is already there. An oak does not develop into a serpent, a girl does not develop into a cat.
Doctrine always develops in that it always enriches, but never contradicts, what came before. If the latter were to happen, it would be error or heresy or abomination, but never development.
This is not only the logical meaning of development. This is the way the Church Herself always looked at it.
Therefore, and by definition, a “development” that goes against what the doctrine states can never be a development, but merely a perversion of, and an attack to the teaching of the Church.
This attack, Francis has carried out from the aeroplane flying back from Canada, after the eskimos clearly showed very little desire to see him, much less keep him.
His stupid words about a development of the doctrine on contraception that says the contrary of what the Church says on contraception is nothing less that this: a frontal attack to the doctrine of the Church, an attack for which no excuse is conceivable.
As he nears the grave, this miserable individual shows he is more and more in the hands of Satan.
I think they will have to deal with each other for a very long time.