Category Archives: Traditional Catholicism
Look, I don’t know what to believe. However, I can say this.
The rumours started in July. Fast forward six months, and he is every bit as fat and as arrogant as he was six months ago. Yes, he might have become more obnoxious because he knows he is dying; but he might have become more obnoxious merely because even he understands that he is getting old, and will not go on forever. I’ll also give you that he seems to have cancelled a couple of trips; but knowing the type, it might simple have been that he could not be bothered.
Before I believe the hype, I’d like to see at least a bit of thinning, or a bit of yellow.
I understand yellow must not necessarily be part of the equation; but I think we should see something.
No thinning, no yellow, no slowing down? Well, thank you for the hopeful news, but to me it’s not happening.
Call me a doubting Thomas if you want. I’d prefer to call it realism.
Very, and I mean very happy to change my mind if factual circumstances emerge.
I was asked in the comments whether anything changed the Government’s mind, as they have now announced the almost total lifting of restrictions (apparently, the NHS worker will keep being oppressed, we will know more about this in the next weeks I suppose).
I think we need to distinguish between posturing and will to act. If you ask me, the Johnson Government had long lost the will to act. This was abundantly clear during Advent, when the Government clearly refused to do what they said they would do, and avoided imposing further restrictions. This was done in the usually stupid way (with contradictory messages sent around), but was done in the end. The truth is, people have had enough, and that was easy enough to see.
What happened next, is the revelation of a “garden party” in the garden of 10 Downing Street in May 2020, already after the first, brutal lockdown phase, but with extremely severe restrictions still in place (you will remember those days: max one person, or max 2 people, or the like. I never followed the details, nor do I want to remember them).
The news of this happy “bring your own booze” partying (around 100 people invited, the place is not too shabby) enraged the Country, and Boris Johnson’s stand became more precarious than the one of a very drunken sailor. Stupidly, the man tried to defend himself saying that in offices there were different rules than in private homes, thus showing a tone deafness of Biblical proportions and causing, predictably, even more anger. The usual “independent” investigation is in place (led by a very high ranking Civil Servant and, thus, not really “independent”, as we learned from “Yes, Prime Minister!”) and I think that he will survive it, as the “independent” investigator will pretend to believe that Boris was not warned by several people about how stupid the idea was. However, Boris knew this cannot be enough.
This is, if you ask me, the reason of the current “freedom offensive”, giving the peasants, sorry, the people, something they dearly want, thus defusing as much as possible the risk of peasant revolt that is now a clear and present danger.
The timing of the freedom offensive has not escaped anyone. Still, as it yielded something that the great part of the Country wants, not many have complained.
Boris will likely survive, if you ask me, because if the Party had wanted to take him down, they would not have awaited the result of the investigation. To say “let’s wait for the Gray Report” is the same as to say “we’ll make this go away if we have someone behind whom we can hide”; which, if you ask me, is exactly what is going to happen.
Still, I think that the Freedom Train is unstoppable now. The voices of dissent will be drown in a sea of voter discontent. We are now, happily, marching towards normality and sanity.
I think it’s objectively evident that the garden party, whilst not really a reversal of course, helped our cause. Without giving information about my life and whereabouts, I can tell you with absolute security that the tide has been turning since November and, very strongly, since December.
We will be able to live fully normal lives again soon. Certainly, an occasion to party.
Bring your own booze.
In a disastrous piece of news for all the Karens and assorted virtue-signalling females of both sexes, the British Government has, yesterday, announced the imminent end of almost all restrictions concerning the couf.
If you have the couf, you will still have to stay home a while. That’s all.
No, I have said that’s all.
Please go buy a very, very small violin and play it to console all the professionals of tyranny and prophets of doom. We are free again. I know, it’s so sad for them, but hey, it’s how these things always end up in the end.
How will the Karens react? Will they give in, accept reality, and realise that they were very stupid, or criminally insane, for a long time? I doubt.
They will go through a period of grief, of course, as they mourn the loss of that very dear friend of them, fear, who had allowed them to feel so important, try to lord over us normal people, and show everybody their towering moral superiority for such a long time. It will, also, be the end of that delicious sensation, the knowledge that as they don’t have a life, nobody else should have one, either. It will be hard. However, I think they will overcome it, and devise a new strategy.
My hunch is that they will keep signalling virtue like their self-esteem depends on it, because it actually does. They will also keep covering their ugliness with their masks, silently and implicitly reproaching us, the normal people, for being so unconscionably reckless. They will not tire of warning us of more Greek letters to come, and how dangerous it is, and how terrible it was to know that their 89 years old aunt (with stage IV pancreatic cancer) had died of…. the couf! They will keep predicting our imminent demise for the fourth time, never stopping to wonder how it is that said demise never came the first three times.
Pity the Karens. Their wound will never be healed. I wonder how many of them will lose the will to leave, and die of some flu, like so many did before them. I have no doubt that, on their death bed, they will take it as vindication that they were right all the time, and that their innocent blood is on our hands.
Their tombstone will read: “Blessed Karen Of The Mask, Martyr, Died 1922 of a Broken Heart. Please wear a mask while deposing the flowers”.
I am sorry for the Karens. I really am.
Only two years of fun in their miserable lives, and now it’s all about to end.
And it came to pass the Evil Clown received an “ecumenical” multi religious delegation from Finland. He loves to undermine Catholicism as he tries to look oh so inclusive and us, by contrast, so narrow-minded.
As you would expect, Francis piddled outside of the potty. He said, in so many words, that the Catholic Church does not “possess” God. Boy, and I thought Christ is the Bridegroom and the Church is the Bride! Francis’ words are particularly grave because said in front of Protestants and Schismatics, in an official capacity. This guy never loses the ability to be shockingly wrong.
He also invited everyone to the usual “work”, of course “in humility”. Again, this makes you look arrogant if you think, as every Catholic should, that the work is actually done, it resulted in a wonderful barque and those who are out of the barque are well advised to embrace the truth and get in.
If you have not had enough of scandals yet, he indicated that 2030 will be an important year, because it marks the 500th anniversary of Luther’s Augsburg Confession, a milestone in Luther’s Satan-driven journey towards a dark realm of violence, heresy and (much) horniness. It’s all to improve mutual understanding, you see.
Yea, pal. It’s important to “understand” what the heck you are doing with that white habit, because from where I sit it seems clear you are sitting there to insult the Church and undermine the Faith.
It appears that Francis sees himself as the Head of the Ministry of Half Truth Number 1. Others have various positions in other Ministries of Half Truth, numbered 2,3,4 etc. All these people should work together to make the administrative machine work. This is as Protestant as can be, and Francis has not even the excuse of being stupid, because whilst I am satisfied that he is stupid, I don’t believe that he is that stupid.
I will allow myself here to indicate a wonderful, wonderful path towards the unity of all Christians. It is so logical that it is unassailable. It is so simple that even Francis understands it. It is so easy to explain that it only needs four words.
Everybody converts to Catholicism.
It does not get more ecumenical, understanding, or humble than that.
The brother of the former mayor of Miami and “hero” of the Florida quest for so-called “gay marriage” has been found, fairly dead, in a landfill.
This so romantic end makes me reflect, once again, on the reality in which these people live. Their rate of suicide and psychosomatic diseases vastly exceed the ones of the normal population, and in order to find a higher suicide rate you need to find people pushing their perversion to a higher degree of lunacy.
I will give you a proper Catholic explanation of why this is so.
A homosexual has already allowed Satan to make big inroads in his consciousness. If he, like many of them do, also engages in sodomy, the situation is even more compromised.
At this point, Satan wants this soul, and he sees himself well on his way to get the prize. He will, however, want to secure his prize as soon as may be, lest an unexpected conversion ruins the party for him.
He will, therefore, proceed to instil in the already perverted soul further incitements to ruin and self-destruction. According to situation, it could be pedophilia or ephebophilia, drugs, lust, money, or mental issues of all sorts. The guy, whose all being is now fundamentally out of whack, will find himself vulnerable to all the diseased ideas the devil puts in his mind. Plus, his fundamental self-hatred (homophobia) will cause his entire body, every cell in him, to suffer, with the consequences described above.
What will be found, to counter these tendencies? Prayer? The sacramental life? Sincere repentance and change of life? Hardly. On the contrary, the homo in person will, in most cases, keep digging his grave with reckless abandon, perhaps becoming an activist of the same perversion that makes him hate himself so much. At that point, all bets are off.
Pierpaolo Pasolini was killed in the middle of the night, in a squalid, forlorn place, after quarrelling with one or more fag prostitutes. Gianni Versace was killed in his own, extremely tacky, home by a male prostitute he used for his lurid purposes. Countless other met the same tragic, sordid end, and in fact I wonder how many times the media inform us of some “murder” and don’t tell us that homosexuality plays a part in it.
In this case, it is difficult to think that the Floridian section of the Ku Klux Klan is behind the murder. My bet is on some sordid story of prostitution, or jealousy, or some other kind of strife, among fags and, in fact, I would be very, very surprised if the so-called lifestyle would not be at the root of the tragic event.
Nor should anyone think that being murdered attenuates the guilt of being sodomite. The sobering reality is that he who dies in mortal sin goes to hell, and being murdered is just one of the ways to meet your maker. A pig who gets killed does not become a lamb. A pig who gets killed becomes, as it is natural, pork.
I’d also love to have some serious, realistic statistics of the percentage of the male population who is given to sodomy, and to compare their probability of becoming murderers, victims of murder, suicides, pedophiles, or precociously diseased to death to the relevant percentages of the normal population.
I think it would open a lot of people’s eyes.
Which is why we will continue to be lied about the reality of this horrible perversion.
I think it is fitting to make a couple of clarifications about how this little blog works and operates.
First: I have written thousands of blog posts, for which I hope the Blessed Virgin will, one day, help me in my our of need. I have no way to collect, catalogue, or access them without going manually through them. If, for example, I write about Bergoglio’s Buenos Aires priest dying in a car accident in the early hours of the morning driving Bergoglio’s car, I might – or not – be able to trace the original blog post and the original linked article out of a search engine. In this particular case I have tried, and I haven’t managed it, as I don’t even remember the year of publication (Francis has been Pope for far too long!). But I know what I read, and what I wrote. If you don’t believe me, tough luck or, actually, good luck searching the blog.
Secondly: whilst I will always publish a link if the information is so damning that it might attract accusations of libel (examples from my blog: the priest mentioned above, or Bergoglio caught in the airport with drugs in his luggage, or Bergoglio lying to his mother about his going to the seminary and bragging about it), there will often be no links in blog posts that simply reflect on what has been linked to in another post, or in blog posts reflecting on something that is everywhere on the Internet. The fact is, I often write in circumstances that do not allow for easy linking of external articles, and therefore prefer to publish my little reflections without the embellishments and accoutrements that a professional outlet will always have. In addition, at times I choose not to publish the link, because I don’t want to add clicks to the publication in question.
This one is not a news site. It’s more like the notes of a rather angered Catholic. You will not find, here, a professional level of editing (it goes also for the typos, an issue made worse by my dyslexia). You will also not find the comprehensive links to past events, even events happened years before, that you find in professional outlets. It’s just not the way a blog, and certainly my blog, works.
If a reader wants a link to a recent event I am writing about, he will likely be able to find it by searching for the most relevant words when the news are still fresh. Years later, it will be far more difficult. Still, I have also noticed that a good number of my readers are informed about Catholics things and do not use this blog to be informed about current events, but to read one particular take on them.
This is, to be honest, the level of effort I am willing to put on this little effort. I have no intention of spending countless hours looking for old links, or creating a catalogue of links, or even waiting to publish a story until the time when I post the link.
Some people are accustomed to professional news sites and perhaps expect for me to provide a comparable level of service.
Alas, it’s not going to happen.
A French blogger (who calls me impitoyable; I’ll take it as a compliment, though I am not American) has reported an article from an Italian newspaper about another Francisstunt. Once again, the hypocrisy of the man is on show. Well, and the stupidity, too.
The link (text in Italian, it also has a link to the original Vatican News link) debunks the latest attempt of Atomic Boor to look educated. In pure Sherlock Holmes style, the guy finds a way to be “casually” found by a photographer as he goes out of a well-known music shop in Rome.
His oh so humble Fiat 500 is also visible, so we don’t think the guy is one for showing off. No, he isn’t. He is so folksy, you see. Instead, he takes his humble Fiat 500 in white (matches the clothes) and then, very casually, finds a parking spot just outside of the store. The luck of the Argentinians, I think it’s the saying…
A photographer, says Regime News, finds him “casually” and catches the magic moment, in pure Cartier-Bresson style. How serendipitous! Are you not so, so impressed by the everyday accessibility, by the simple spirit, by the sheer intellectual thirst of a guy who needs to have a little ride in Rome to buy his so, so precious classical music? Is it a surprise that the picture of the humble Pope Franciscus Wheelcharius went, as Regime News wants us to know, “viral in less than 30 minutes”?
Problem: someone in Sherlock’s entourage has not paid attention to a detail: that if – as Regime News itself reports – among the people who “casually” note that the Pope is having a folksy stroll is, also, the personal photographer of the Pope, then you will need Greta Thunberg levels of retardation to believe the tale of the serendipitous event.
The readers of this forum, however, have no Greta Thunberg levels of retardation. Most of them have, I think, Mundaborian levels of allergy to this kind of cheap – and stupid to boot – stunt. I am, therefore, pretty sure that said readers will agree with me on the following:
- Cardinal Ravasi sends out word that Francis has the 2000 CDs collection. It might be that Ravasi himself wanted to make himself beautiful as the “curator” of the collection; however, as Ravasi’s love for music is not questioned, this seems the less probable scenario, and I rather suspect that this was Sherlock Bergoglio instructing his trusted lapdog to find a suitable Catholic outlet and yap a bit about what a cultivated intellect and keen sense of beauty Sherlock has.
- The article goes out on CNA. People laugh, because it’s as if Beria had sent out word that Comrade Stalin is very fond of the Flemish Primitives, and a great admirer of Hieronymus Bosch.
- Francis has a spittle-flecked nutty, utters the C-word with reckless abandon, insults everyone around him for not doing things properly, and then proceeds to instruct his personal photographer to be, very casually, in the right place at the right time so that the old, lewd boor can go “viral in less than thirty minutes”.
Am I being uncharitable here? Or am I just looking at reality for what it is? Am I the only one who thinks that if you go out with security and chauffeur (just look at the picture), and have your car parked just in front of the shop, you should – out of sheer decency – avoid the little “humbleness theatre” with the Fiat 500? Am I the only one who thinks that it is entirely hypocritical, and entirely stupid, and therefore entirely like Francis, to mount such little stunts? Am I the only one who thinks that bringing a throng of journalists with you to witness that you pay the bill of a hotel which now, as the Pope, simply belongs to you, is the height of falseness and virtue-signaling?
You be the judge.
I, for myself, have no doubt whatsoever about who this man is.
I can’t tell you how much it grates me that there should be politicians, actually now in the US more often than in Europe, whining about inequality.
The complaining about inequality is illogical, tyrannical, and Unchristian.
Humans have been made by their Creator with vast differences in, inter alia, intelligence, inventiveness, ability to work hard, ability to overcome difficulties, and many traits more. It is perfectly logical that this, alone, would create vast differences in people’s wealth.
But it is much, much more than that. How do you want to fight inequality? There is only one way: ferocious taxation of both earnings in life and inheritance after death. This is one of the most tyrannical ideas ever devised – which is why Communists specialise in it – as it deprives the human activity of that natural impulse to do better for ourselves and transmit the fruits of our labour to our children. It is difficult to imagine a worse compulsion and limitation of basic freedoms, short of North Korea.
Most of all, inequality is God-given and God-willed. The one is born the son of a penniless peasant. The other is born the son of a King. The social mobility the Church has always encouraged (many Popes of the past had quite humble origins, something that did not happened in secular government) and of which we see Old Testament examples (think of David) does not negate the premise: God wants some to be born rich, or powerful, or intelligent, or strong, or beautiful, and others poor, not powerful at all, dumb, ugly, or weak.
God does so, of course, in order to execute His Providential plan, giving all of us those special graces that are good for us, and asking us after death whether we have used those graces wisely or have squandered them away.
Of course, we need a fair society, which makes it impossible or extremely difficult for someone to enrich himself with devious, criminal, or fraudulent means; something in which, again, Communist Countries excel. And no, corruption and criminality are not given to us by God, they are merely allowed, like any other evil.
If all goes well and you have a well-ordered, corruption-free, efficient society which tries to give opportunities to those who deserve them, what do you get? You get huge inequality, as the emergence of the Rockefellers and Vanderbilts, of the Henry Fordses, of the Jeff Bezoses and of the Elon Musks of the world will be, in fact, encouraged. This is not only legitimate. It is wonderful. It is God-given inventiveness, innovation, resilience, patience, genius, and sheer determination at work. Are these people perfect? Of course not. But neither you nor I are, and still no one asks whether we should be allowed to exist or have money.
Believe me I know what poverty is. Believe me I never had the privileges of the US underprivileged. I never bought $200 training shoes. I went to school with broken shoes. I know what it is not having the money to ask a girl out. I know what it is is to be scared about the future. And you know what? I think it was all God-given and providentially arranged, every bit of it.
Inequality is a toy , or rather a weapon, for people who want to become privileged themselves, profiting from the envy and the mediocrity of the lazy and dumb.
Embrace inequality. Embrace Christ.
And it came to pass we were informed that the Evil Clown has a 2000 cd strong collection. I don’t post the link, because it comes from a publication that should not be linked to.
It sounded strange to me that the pope of the poor would have a music collection costing, by and large, north of $40000. However, what indicated that something clearly wasn’t right is the other piece of information, that most of the 2000 CDs are of classical music.
2000 CDs of classical music? An atomic boor like this one? Please.
As it turns out, there is a very simple explanation for the unusual fact: the CDs are not the fruit of Francis’ boundless love for beauty, but the result of donations from all over the world.
Now, this makes sense. If Francis loved music, and beauty, he would be enchanted by every sung or musical version of the Traditional Mass, from the usual High Mass to, say, Requiem masses. But Francis does not love Traditional sung masses, most likely because they remind him of Christ.
I am, however, fairly sure Francis feels comfortable with the effeminate, sugary, childish attempts at music of the Novus Ordo; those horrible stuff that makes us try to zone out whenever it is inflicted on us in church. That stuff, I am sure, he calls “music”.
So, what do we learn from all this? We learn that the sycophantic fake Catholic press loves trying to make Francis look educated, sophisticated, lover of the finest expression of the human mind.
The reality is one of an insufferable, vulgar, ignorant boor. One who not only does not care for music, but actively tries to destroy the wonderful musical patrimony of our Sacred Liturgy.
Frankie, the music lover?
The Wall Street Journal has written an article about the exodus of Catholics in Latin America. Whilst I think there is much worse around than the Wall Street Journal, I thought I would give my perspective on the issue.
The WSJ seems to identify some issues behind the loss of Catholics in South America, namely the fact that the Protestants a) are more directly concerned about solidarity, for example with distribution of beans and rice, b) are better at organising free time activities like soccer clubs, and c) are better at offering a “personal relationship with Jesus”, a typical – if wrong – Protestant “selling point”.
I will agree that solidarity is important. In Italy, for example, what the WSJ mentions has always been part and parcel of “being” Catholic. I am not sure that this should be much different in Latin America.
Similarly, in the Italy of my youth – and in the Italy of several generations before mine – the parish-sponsored sport activity has always been big. The soccer field near the church has always been a common trait of Italian communities, and the parish were directly involved in sports activity. It is not clear to me what has changed in that.
The “relationship with Jesus” part lead us, in my eyes, much nearer to the real issue: Catholics leave the Church when a) they have been poorly instructed and b) the local clergy fails to give them the spiritual nourishment they crave.
The Church has a wonderful, extremely involving, absolutely beautiful, wildly successful spiritual patrimony to give to his faithful, even including their prayer life and “personal relationship with Jesus. But this patrimony must be cherished, must be properly transmitted, and must be believed in the first place. A priest interested in social justice, striving to be “cool”, afraid of looking “stuffy”, and perhaps even plagued by spiritual issues of his own is a recipe for disaster.
One of the things I do whenever I see a new priest celebrating Mass is having some fun – in the midst of the penance and suffering that is attending a Novus Ordo Mass – trying to gauge whether the guy believes in God. Several times I have come to the conclusion that the guy gives the impression of not believing in God. More than a couple of times I have come to the conclusion that the guy is deeply troubled in much, much worse ways than being uncertain in his faith. It is no surprise that, confronted with such shepherds and badly instructed in the first place, Catholics would leave for ecclesial communities promising a deeper, fruitful, fulfilling religious experience.
Father Pablo, who always talks of social justice and his fears of seeing the ocean levels rise, will see his attendance numbers sink. Father Pedro, who always sounds like his voice is just a tad too shrill, will soon discover that Catholics want their pastor manly. Father Gonzalo, whose masses resemble a circus for the under nine years old, will notice in time that his children, once grown up, consider him nothing more than a nice kindergarten clown.
Catholicism is restored by being Catholic. There is nothing wrong with the recipe. The problem is with the bad cooks who don’t follow it. In order to stop losing, it is necessary to embrace Catholic tradition in everything.
Proper liturgy, proper catechism, proper militancy, proper attitude. This is how you reverse the destiny of Catholicism in South America. It’s not even about beans, or soccer, important as these side activities might be.
In the end, it is always about how one treats both the Bridegroom and the Bride.
Bill Donohue, the more than somewhat milquetoast professional writer leader of the controlled opposition Catholic League, has launched himself in one of those very disingenuous, dangerous, utterly misleading accusations that the “usual suspects” would be “manipulating” the Evil Clown in the matter of sodomy.
The tactics is very simple: a) systematically ignore all that Francis does. b) pick selectively something that Francis has said, once or twice, in the midst of countless acts and statements that directly contradict the selectively picked statement. c) assume that Francis lives on a different planet, where there is no Internet, no common sense, no simple observation of facts, and that he is completely dependent on what those around him tell him. d) assume that he is, therefore, “manipulated”.
This is disingenuous because at this point, even the Gold Medalist at the Pollyanna Games has understood how deeply Francis is involved in the cover up of homosexual activity.
Whether it is the obvious support given to the curas villeros and their toy boys, or the homosexual priest who died in a car accident driving Francis’ car, after remaining in the house of Francis until deep in the early morning; whether it is the fact that Francis chose to move to a hotel run by a notorious homosexual, whom he left in place and even promoted to a prestigious position at the Vatican bank, or the other fact that he chose to receive Father Georgina and other notorious supporters of perversion; whether it is his mocking assertion that the homo lobby members in the Vatican don’t wear a badge, or the even more notorious “who am I to judge?”, this guy has made it evident to a retard on steroids on what side of the issue he really is, albeit, still being the Pope, and having a passion for fooling people and lying undisturbed and unchallenged, he also once or twice interspersed his 100 deeds in help of perverts with some vague statements which, actually, sounds Catholic.
And this is, in the end, the problem with the professional, well-fed, controlled opposition of the Catholic League. Whilst they pretend to defend Catholic thinking – and they are certainly right in that – they also refuse to address the elephant in the room, merely because the elephant dresses in white and the old women love to be told that said man in white could never be a satanical, evil, petty, lewd, possibly perverted old scoundrel, but is, at worst, “manipulated”.
I say, enough with this rubbish. Homo is who homo does.
The duty of these well-paid professional Catholics is not to work as the accomplices of a clearly evil Pope, nor is it to actively hide the evil of this man from their own readers. Their duty is to do what so many of us do without any compensation, on our own dime and on our own time, gratis et amore dei: denounce an obviously evil Pope so that everybody can see that the Emperor is wearing a tutu and ballet shoes.
The one who is being manipulated here is not Francis.
It’s the readers and supporters of the Catholic League.
Cognitive Dissonance, Swimming, And Popcorn: Why The Battle For “Biological Females” Is Self-Defeating
Something is moving in the case of the swimmer dude who wants to win by competing against the girls. A group of parents has stated that the dudes are “trampling all over biological women”.
The problem is, the parents want to eat their cake and have it, and it’s just not going to work. The very mention of “biological women” can only mean one thing: that there are two kind of women, of which one is biological and the other is, somewhat, not biological (try to wrap your brain around that!). The parents themselves say it very clearly when they state that the relevant sport authorities must (emphasis mine) “find a way to include transgender women without trampling all over biological women.”
It just does not work that way. Either dude is a woman, or he isn’t. If he isn’t a woman, the parents need to wake up to reality and start saying out loud that he is a dude. However, as long as they keep stating that the dude is a woman of sorts, then any other place for him that is not among women would be discrimination and, delightfully, “transphobia”.
Inviting the sports authorities to “find a way” is just stupid. You can’t “find a way”, out of thin air, when there just isn’t one. You can’t find a way out of sheer reality. Reality states that there are male and women competitors. To decide that there should be a tertium genus is self-defeating, as the trannies would be relegated into something that no liberal parent could justify for as long as he or she remains blind to reality.
I have stated many times, and repeat today, that all liberal parents should reap what they sowed, and have their daughters’ dreams of glory shattered by the mentality they themselves have created. The daughters, then, will be either innocent of woke thinking – and then they will have only their own parents to blame – or subscribers to the madness – and then they will also have themselves to blame -.
This battle is self-defeating. It is the expression of a colossal cognitive dissonance that these liberal parents just refuse to see.
Let them pay the price of their own stupidity and political correctness. Virtue signaling has consequences.
I have a solution for these concerned parents. They won’t like it, but hey… The solution is:
- Shut up and get fully on board with the madness. Tell your daughters that to even think that they are being unfairly treated is transphobic. In fact, tell your daughters that, at this point, they might as well think of spending no time anymore in the swimming pool, and far more time in the kitchen.
- Wake up to reality and decide that a dude is a dude is a dude. When that has been understood, all the rest comes from itself.
I wish *no* good luck to the parents.
In the meantime, I will have some popcorn.
Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation of them that hate me;
The sad news is now everywhere, that the son of Sinead O’Connor committed suicide at 17.
Whilst it is fairly obvious what the likely destination of the young man is (two other attempted suicides in the last weeks. Do not deceive yourself: either he was completely bonkers, or Satan was strong with him), I think a prayer is in order. God has judged him according to His Goodness. We still hope that he made it, some way, to the right side of the Great Divide. We hope, by the way, the same for Sinead O’Connor. As always, God’s will be done.
So, let us see what hand the young boy had been handed.
He was born of a vocal lesbian, a pot addict, a woman unable to relate to others in any meaningful way, unstable to the utmost but still managing to put four children into the world. A sort of woman-child, if you would call her a woman. But boy, such a loud one… He was, also, born of a woman who famously tore up a picture on JP II on TV in a blatant attempt to criminalise the entire Catholic Church (and, by reflection, Catholicism) for an issue common to most complex organisations, like the teachers, or the so-called Church of England. However, the likes of O’Connor would refuse to see it. Why would she, you might ask?
If you ask me, because she was a pot-smoking pervert taking pride in calling herself a “dyke”, asking three popes to be excommunicated, taking pride in being made a mickey-mouse priest, changing her name because it is connected to “the patriarcheeee”, then changing it again when she apostatised (of all the bonkers acts of this human wreck, certainly the worst one). Just as an aside, she then informed us that she finds every non-muslim “disgusting” and that conversion to Mohammedanism is “the natural conclusion of any intelligent theologian’s journey”; which, coming from such an oracle, should really give food for thoughts. The one who first says that even in her pot-ravaged state still believed in the Most Holy Trinity and then proceeds to deny the same Most Holy Trinity is, apparently, the smart one. We are, however, all stupid. Oh, and disgusting, too.
And then there are the constant about-faces. Be it Prince, or Christians, she is always ready to recant what she once shouted; but, somehow, she never seems to stop shouting.
Well, it seems that God has some very harsh news for this woman: the sins of the mothers shall be visited upon the sons. Whilst it would be unfair to blame her directly for an act for which the responsibility must rely on the one who made it, she cannot call herself innocent of this immense tragedy, as it is difficult not to conclude that being the son of such a clown and growing up a normal adult is not an easy job at all.
In my old post, linked above, I wrote:
That’s a bad’un; and mind my words, if she doesn’t change she will come to a very bad end.
The phrase did not require any special divinatory quality, as the woman has been on a path to self-destruction for many years; one that was, and is, as evident as it is shouted.
Almost ten years after that blog post, things have come to a very, very bad end indeed; but this has not involved her directly, but a young man she should have nurtured, protected, and helped to grow up a responsible adult with – because this is her obligation, whatever her character – the fear of the Lord.
Among the many delirious things this woman can never stop spouting is the belief that God sends everyone to heaven. I don’t think I am the only one reflecting that this is the stuff out of which suicides are made. These people work on their own tragedies every waking hour. Still, I am sure she will blame someone else for it, too. The Patriarchy, perhaps? Or the Church?
Rabidly anti-Catholic. Lesbian (let me quote: “dyke”). Pot addict for decades. Wannabe priestess. Apostate. Insulting of all followers of Christ. Am I the only one who thinks that the tragedy that has just unfolded is a huge cautionary tale, or a kind of 2+2=4 for the use of every Christian?
O’Connor has managed to share, not directly but certainly as a parent, clear responsibility for the self-destruction and very probable damnation of her own son. As in this little space we don’t do fake kindness (which would be uncharitable), and as it will be extremely difficult to find shepherds willing to do what, fifty years ago, would have been thundered from every pulpit ( that is: the use of this episode as a cautionary tale for the sheep), I think that it behooves little efforts like this one to encourage you to say, in your charity (let us say it once again) a prayer for the young man and for his mother, but to also point out very forcefully that this is what comes out of being Sinead O’Connor for an entire lifetime, and no, picking a new name every three month will not change anything, either.
I wish it weren’t that way. I wish that I lived in solidly Catholic times, where one can rely that the message will be relayed to the sheep promptly and forcefully. As things stand, I dread the amount of sugary your-son-is-now-with-the-angels-ism and other similar lies that might be propagated by laymen and priests, possibly even by bishops. When it is about looking good, I see it far too often that Christ becomes an afterthought, when He is considered at all.
Before I go, let me clear the air with some conciliatory, soft, soothing, charitable considerations:
- Let it not be said that Sinead O’Connor has “the heart in the right place”. When you apostatise, your heart has been conquered by Satan.
- Let it not be said that she should be left alone in this tragic hour. Her mentality, her entire life work, her whole Weltanschauung leads to suicide. As she has always been very good at shouting iniquity she should not be protected, now, from the shouting of reason.
- Let this be a cautionary tale. You reap what you sow. What happened now is what Sinead O’Connor has been sowing for three decades.
Bishop Mutsaert did it again.
His observations are very Catholic and very smart. Particularly intelligent is the reflection that, whilst Francis demands that those who want to celebrate the TLM declare their allegiance to the Second Vatican Disaster, the Novus ordo priests are not asked to accept the Council of Trent.
This would, in fact, be a very interesting game to play with Francis on the next aeroplane:
“Your Holiness, do you accept the Council of Trent?”
“Your Holiness, as you know, in Quo Primum your holy predecessor, Pope Saint Pius V, declared:
“Let all everywhere adopt and observe what has been handed down by the Holy Roman Church, the Mother and Teacher of the other Churches, and let Masses not be sung or read according to any other formula than that of this Missal published by Us. This ordinance applies henceforth, now, and forever, throughout all the provinces of the Christian world”.
He also solemnly stated:
“No one whosoever is permitted to alter this notice of Our permission, statute, ordinance, command, precept, grant, indult, declaration, will, decree, and prohibition. Should anyone dare to contravene it, let him know that he will incur the wrath of Almighty God and of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul.”
Do you agree with the words of your holy predecessor?”
That would be, authentically, fun to behold and would rapidly become a “cult” video clip if filmed. My take is that you would see the unholy lewd guy change colour in the face, get all angry and flustered, and then precipitously interrupt the journalist and start screaming in panic, just like Don Abbondio did when Renzo wanted to marry Lucia in a “surprise marriage” against his will. After which, he would answer with some insults to the journalist posing the question.
Later, the Vatican PR machine would run to the “rescue” (actually: try to limit the damage) and assure us that the Evil Clown did not actually intend to mean what he says, but rather that bla, bla, and more bla.
This guy lives in a world consisting entirely of hypocrisy and deception. He lives in a huge pram, out of which toys are thrown incessantly. Lying and hating are in every cell of his. He is too evil to respect Catholicism, too far gone to realise how dumb he looks, and too arrogant to care for anything but his own little revenge of the day. His pettiness and record-shattering petulance are a typical mark of the old homosexual.
This guy is vulgar, ignorant, dumb, lewd, and evil.
And I suspect him of being a homo.
I suspect him of being a homo.
And it came to pass that I was walking, just minutes ago, on a busy street I will, for obvious reasons, not mention.
Two old men (both older than me, and I begin my age with a “6”) were standing one near the other, deciding something.
They were, both of them, and without a doubt, belonging to that category of men commonly known as “fudge packer”, “pillow biter”, , “bugger”, “fairy” or, more commonly, “faggot”.
How did I understand their particular situation? Not being one of those, it is difficult for me to pinpoint a particular feature. They were both attired in the same way, and both of them reminded me of the late, famous German comedian, and bugger extraordinaire, Dirk Bach (google him and you’ll understand what I mean).
Their entire demeanour was, well, faggy. It was as if the entire reserve of testosterone they once possessed had been taken away from them with a huge syringe. The way they stood on their feet, the little gesticulating they had, the entire countenance reminiscent of an old, wrinkly, scared Faggobambi waiting to be startled by some car light literally screamed about the sorry state of their rectal orifice.
And they were miserable.
I might, or might not, have given them “the eye”; as I might, or might not, like the kind of “micro aggression” that says “be glad I am not in power, girl”. But as I walked past the two strangely standing people, I could not avoid thinking what kind of life stories I had just left behind me, as I walked with (by God’s grace) vigorous, manly, self-assured steps to my destination.
It is not only an entire life of very grave sin that goes in front of you like a mini movie. It is the filth, the stench, the manure they must have wallowed in during, very possibly, a lifetime. A lifetime now slowly, but surely, approaching its end, and – if nothing changes – leading to an amount of pain compared to which all that back side activity must look a walk in the park.
Why do I say this to you? Because, my dear readers, I am fed up with non-judgmentalism. I will make every effort to judge with right judgment; but after that, I will most assuredly judge. Nor will I indulge in that most beloved sport of our time, which I will call “Perhapsism”.
Perhaps they weren’t fags. Perhaps Father Georgina isn’t a homosexual. Perhaps Francis is in good faith. Perhaps God makes people perverts. Perhaps I am being bad.
They were fags. Father Georgina is as homo as they come. Francis is a lying, lewd scoundrel. God does not “do” perversion. I am being Catholic.
There. Cancel me from your Facebook now (hint: I am not there). Post this blog post on your oh so inclusive Twitter account. Call me a Trump guy!! (Thanks!). Call me “phobic” (I prefer “Christian”, kindly…).
I am on the side of 2000 years of Catholicism. I am on the side of Padre Pio, Saint Pius V, Saint Peter Damian, and Saint Bernadine of Siena. I am, warts and all, on the side of Christ, n.o.t. “inclusion”.
Pray for the two old buggers.
But don’t give them any discount.
For those of you who don’t know, Sanremo is a beautiful city on the Italian Riviera, known as “the city of flowers”. If you are on holiday in Italy, you can do much worse than Sanremo.
Sanremo is, now, in the Catholic news because of a local Benedictine community. These brave Catholic monks have read Traditionis Custodes. Then they have looked at their own Constitution, which was approved by Rome. I suspect they have also made one consideration or two regarding the potential luciferian influence on a certain guy known to us all.
After these considerations, the monks have decided, before Christmas, that it’s not going to happen and they are going to go on as usual. In January, the Prior, Father de Belleville, reiterated the refusal and said the Monks are going to “remain faithful, whatever the cost”.
The monks have also issued an appeal to other similar orders, encouraging them to do the same.
Boy, it looks like the good monks are really Catholic! Francis will get the conniptions, no doubt about that!
This will be one to watch. Francis has likely thought that the TLM communities all over would just shut up and obey. If this does not happen, he will have to lose face (provided he ever had one) or enforce his tyrannical diktat. Then it might get really funny, because if the Friars remain hard (I suppose they will: a monk tends to be different from a politician, or a Bishop) there is no way Francis can force them, and any action against them will be doomed to fail.
What can Francis do? Smash them on the street? Him, the popeofmercy ™ himself, doing such a thing? It would not look good. Still, if he tries, the Monks will receive more support and money than they will ever need, in no time. Heck, they might even – depending from the legal framework governing their organisation – bring the monastery and all the real estate with them! That would be really fun!
The history of the Church shows us that, whenever a tyrant tries to persecute Her, there is always a minority of hardcore faithful who ruin the party for him. Whether Diocletian or Julian the Apostate, Henry VIII or Paul VI, there were always the St Lucia’s, the Moores, the Fishers or the Lefebvres of the day to make sure everyone – even the tyrant of the day – knows what is what.
I am trying to translate the lawful and righteous resistance of the good Monks in colloquial English, and one expression that comes to mind is “shut up, bitch!”; albeit I am absolutely sure that the good monks, whatever their thoughts on Francis’ canine tendencies, would never express themselves in that way. Never. Ever.
Never mind. I will do it for them. You are welcome.
Let us pray for the good monks. Gloria TV, which had the news (I can’t link now) will certainly report on the further developments and the coordinates for donations if the need arises.
Faithful, whatever the cost. An encouragement for us all.
Die soon, evil clown. Haste on your way to the place the Lord’s Justice has appointed for you.
May you enjoy it, and its delights, for all eternity.
As not only Frankie, but apparently other people are confused about the tragedy of sexual perversion, I think it will be good to explain a couple of things.
Firstly: homosexuality is not a sin. Homosexuality is a perversion. The person who is homosexual has a huge problem in what he is, because homosexuality is something one is, not something one does.
The sin of sodomy is the sin that perverts practice when they act on their perverted attitude. Sodomy is not something a pervert is, it is something a pervert does.
Being homosexual does not compel anyone to engage in sodomy any more than being a pedophile compels one to rape children. Perverted humans are still human. They do not become animals compelled to a certain behaviour like a sporty cat seeing a mouse, or a hungry lion spotting a gazelle. Humans have agency. Homos are humans. Homos have agency.
From this follows that no homo is ever more justified in engaging in sodomy than a pedophile is justified in engaging in child rape. If this does not make perfect sense to you, you are already advanced in the ways of Father Georgina, and I can smell the brimstone from here.
Saint Francisco Wheelcharius was recently quoted with saying that many homos can access the sacrament of penance (which they clearly can) and the church “helps them to move forward in their lives”. What he has not said is how this moving forward would actually happen.
The homosexual approaching the confessional should do so in horror of the horrible sin of sodomy and in disgust of the horrible perversion of homosexuality. If this horror and disgust are not there, how can said homo “move forward in his life”? If the homosexual does not deeply loathe his perversion, how can he present himself in front of Christ and hope for a valid absolution? Such a person would be a person who approves of his perversion, and therefore condemns Christ as homophobic. This seems a moving backward to me; it seems, to me, a sacrilege.
I wonder now: when Saint Francisco Wheelcharius speaks of moving forward, does this entail that total rejection of both the perversion and the sin? If this is the case, the guy could bloody well mention it, as this is not a trifling matter. In fact, if this is not said with very clear words, it would almost look like, for Francis, homosexuality unavoidably means sodomy, and the “moving forward” is a motion of a sodomite who remains such.
Am I being harsh here? I don’t think so. Why would I give any slack to a man who keeps living under the roof of a notorious homosexual and receives screeching pro-homo Jesuits who talk, look and gesticulate as deviant just as Stalin looked communist? As I have read somewhere, if he talks like a fag, walks like a fag and quacks like a fag, he is very probably a fag.
There. I have said it. Saint Francisco Wheelcharius will hate me. But then again, he might be a fag himself, so I not sure I will be impressed.
The Angelus of the 2nd January had Francis blathering about his usual stuff: Jesus comes to you; if you shut him out, he waits; but please let him in and invite him in your “dark inner stables” and you will be quite fine.
This guy is always “off”, even when he does not insult Catholicism directly, exactly in what he does not say. It’s as if his Catholicism, even when it is to be found, always missed one leg.
You read about his Angelus, and it looks like this: if you invite Jesus he enters, and when he enters… that’s it. Your job is to invite. When you invite, all is done, because hey, Jesus does not require anything more, does He now?
This creepy religion of salvation for the asking is very much in tune with all the rest that Francis says. The constant hammering of the idea that Jesus forgives everything (repentance not required, change of life not necessary) is a recurring theme with him.
From the automatic salvation to the smell of sheep, the step is a small one. If Jesus forgives me just for the asking, why would I actually make an effort to change? If the aim of Jesus’ relationship with me is that he is allowed in, not that I conform myself to His Commandments, why would my behaviour need to change?
Francis himself said it in the past in the most explicit way, when – years ago – he referred to the penitent in the confessional as the one who says “I have sinned, and I will sin again!”. The confessions of this guy must be somewhat between the cringeworthy, the heretical and the satanical.
When you understand this, you also get the real message within the “dark inner stables” talk. Francis is very fine with the stable remaining darkened by sin, just as he is expects the sheep to keep stinking. In Francis’ Gospel, Jesus says “if you love me, you can keep ignoring my commandments”.
Hey, you have invited, so you have done all that Jesus desired of you.
Mind, the guy does and says worse things. You read his blathering, and it looks like he is merely being mediocre at the first part (the one when Christ enters); however, the second part (the one when you keep His Commandments) never comes. Francis’ all-inclusive, buffet-salvation only asks you to fill your plate.
Feel free to keep stinking.
I wonder how dark and creepy Francis’ dark inner stables are. He has no qualms with protecting an obvious homosexual, under whose roof he lives.
Methinks, his dark inner stables are full of shit, stink like hell, and are very dark indeed.
I have now finished “Saint Padre Pio, Man of Hope” in the latest version of Renzo Allegri. I had bought it some time ago, but never came to reading it, likely because I found the Ruffin book (“Padre Pio, The True Story”) so well written that it would be difficult to surpass it.
All in all, I’d say that that the Allegri work is a good one, but the Ruffin one is a much better one and, if you want to buy a book about the life of Padre Pio, I would recommend the latter.
The difference between the two books I can easily discern (I have read the Ruffin years ago, though I keep coming back to it again and again for single parts) are the following:
- The Ruffin book gives a very vivid description of the environment in which Padre Pio found himself to operate. The explosive mixture of ignorance, superstition, arrogance, violence, poverty and corruption the saintly man had to endure is very vividly present to the mind of an Italian reader, who knows his people with their good and bad sides. However, without the description of all the, ahem, “quirks” of the local populace it is difficult to understand why the Holy Office would see Padre Pio with suspicion, or try to protect him from the fanaticism of the mob, or try to avoid the hysterical “cult” (and the frauds, with the awful “relic” business) that was developing around the saintly man. Renzo Allegri’s work says very little about it, and frankly describes it in a rosewater way that makes a reader wonder how the Holy Office could “persecute” Padre Pio (fact: Padre Pio had enemies and slanderers, but a lot of what was done from Rome was done to, actually, protect the man).
- The Allegri book is a revised version, modified in the last years, and it’s too much V II for my liking. You are told how good the future JP II was to Padre Pio (good for him!), and how devout Francis is of the guy! You don’t say, Renzo, old boy!! I must say, I vomited a little bit inside my mouth as I read that.
- The Ruffin goes in detail about Padre Pio’s opinion of the Aggiornamento. There are brutal sentences there. There are moving episodes. Not one word on this in the other book. You’d think the entire V II process did not make any impression, or cause any reaction, in the great Saint.
- The Ruffin book has several more instances of Padre Pio’s frank and very direct behaviour than Allegri’s one. One can clearly see that Allegri did not want to give his readers the sharpest angles of the everyday Padre Pio, the one who slapped people in the face, shouted in church, or threw sandals around the classroom (however, it has the delightful episode of the woman left by her husband…). I am Italian, and I assure you that a saint who slaps people in the face (when it has to be), shouts in church (when it has to be to get people to shut up: see above about the antics of the populace), and throws sandals around the classroom is as authentic, as unashamedly Italian, and as wonderfully tasty as Tiramisu’; but, in the case of a saint, it is obviously better still.
- Ruffin goes where Allegri does not: the militant anticommunism and anti-homosexualism of Padre Pio are not really mentioned. Big minus points here.
- Ms Pyle is mentioned, in the lesser book, only once. I don’t think this is a honest representation of a collaboration that went on for decades.
- The last chapters in Allegri’s book want to make the Church look bad for putting Padre Pio’s beatification on ice for ten years after his death, as if the Church had to be worried about beatifying great saints in double quick time so that their followers are not upset. I think this is unfair, and a worrying indication of a “santo subito”– mentality. Again, so very V II. We have seen where that goes…
Mind: I am not saying that the “man of hope” book is wasted money. However, to me this is the book you read *after* you have read the Ruffin, just to have a different perspective.
Be it as it may, delving into the life and times of this great Saint is always a very instructive, edifying, and unforgettable experience. It’s amazing that, in the midst of the godless XX Century, God gave us a Saint of such colossal, and I mean colossal magnitude.
A Saint who will help us, too, who have to live in the midst of the utterly mad, and utterly perverted XXI Century.
Many are the events that 2022 could bring to the Catholic world, both bad and good. As I am an optimist by nature, I want to keep a realistic, but solid view of what I think could, with God’s help, happen in 2022.
I have expressed on this little effort, many times by now, the idea that the horrible situation we are living is but the reflection of the rebellion which both the faithful* and the clergy have staged since the beginning of the so-called aggiornamento; a word which, in itself, reveals the subversive potential which, then, ended up unfolding under our very eyes for now many decades.
I do not think that the laity* can call itself innocent of what has happened. In fact, I think that what has happened was a vicious circle of both laity* and clergy reciprocally encouraging each other. The clergy is, of course, the bigger culprit, as they are supposed to be the shepherds. But no sheep has any right to be as willingly blind and unforgivably stupid as the Catholic sheep have chosen to be* in these past six decades.
This rebellion had to cause a punishment. This punishment had to be visited upon both the clergy and the laity*, because both of them are culpable. This punishment had to lead to a horrendous disfiguration of the Church at Her very core, and in Her most sacred institutions, so that it is finally understood what monstrous disfiguration of Catholicism the machinery put in motion by V II was and still is.
We are, collectively*, living a punishment we have, collectively*, amply deserved.
It is perfectly logical that it should be this way. Why would God allow His Clergy and His faithful to stray to such an extent and not punish their insolence? And if this must, necessarily, be so, how could this punishment be anything other than a terrible spiritual plague on both of them, until the madness finally causes the clergy and the faithful to demand that the course be reverted?
No, the explanation was too long; so let me put it in a different way: how can we, collectively intended*, spread so much shit over the Church and the Doctrine, over our Catholic thinking, our Catholic liturgy and our Catholic traditions, and then expect that we will not be made to eat all this shit, until we have been punished enough?
No. The more I get old, the more I see an inescapable relationship of cause and effect between V II and what is happening now, in a way that seems to me as obvious as the hangover after the drunkenness.
Therefore, let us come back to the actual topic of this post, that is: what we can hope for 2022.
What I hope for 2022 is not a big, sudden, explosive change of thinking in the Church. Too corrupt is the clergy for this to reasonably happen, and whilst God can do everything, He normally acts in more subdued, subtle, gradual ways.
What I hope we will have in 2022 is, first, a Conclave. Then, I hope that from this conclave will come out someone who is, at least, not quite horrible (say: one who is JP II bad, or B XVI bad). Someone who, as we say in Italy, “has scabies” (language tip: the Italian saying to describe a group of corrupted people is “the cleanest one has scabies”….) but is, at least, not worse than that.
In time, slowly perhaps, this new “scabies Pope” might, with God’s Grace, steer the Church to a point where the desire for the recovery of traditional Catholic thinking and practice has become more widespread, the Father Georginas of the world either shut up or are slowly driven out of the Church, and people start to see a noticeable difference between the Age of Shit (Francis), and the Age Of Manure (Scabies Pope), where the excrement content is now visibly reduced.
From there, and in the time and ways decreed by God Almighty, we might slowly start to get out of the mess, and the following Popes might be, gradually, better and better ones, until at some point – likely, after many of us are already dead – it is begun to be noticed that the Church is, in fact, properly run again.
Mind, it might get worse than this. Much worse, in fact. We have been told by the apparition of Our Lady of Quito that the point will come when everything seems lost. Well, if we are lucky we will remember Francis’ pontificate as the time when everything seemed lost. If we are unlucky, we will see much worse than even him. I suggest we prepare ourselves for the worst, and hope for the best.
And hope I will, therefore, do. I will allow myself to hope, and will wallow in the beautiful, fresh, exhilarating feeling, that 2022 might mark, as Tolkien so famously said, the turning of the tide.
Together, of course, with a year rich in blessings and spiritual gifts for all my readers.
*Obviously, dear reader, this is in general and does not concern every single individual or, actually, you.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.