Here we go again. JM Bergoglio, the Petrine Squatter is reported to have delivered some “off-color” remarks to a group of Spanish seminarians back in December.
Know what this reminds me of? If you guessed my own time in McCarrick’s seminary, then you’d be right and I will award you one gold star.
I saw this on Canon212 earlier (and please hit Frank’s donate button). If what is being reported is true (and please check out the story), then JMB is at best a dirty old man, at worst, well, it doesn’t get much worse than being an antipope and , as Barnhardt calls him, the “probable false prophet forerunner of the antichrist”.
But let’s stick with the dirty old man motif for a second. Is it important that men being trained for priesthood have a basic awareness of the kinds of situations they might face especially in the confessional? Yes. Is it necessary that these men be sexually harassed in the process? You don’t think that’s what this is? In any workplace situation where the CEO comes in to address the most Junior of trainees and starts using that kind of language and indulging himself with sex banter in blunt terms, those trainees could sue. And rightly so. No one wants to be forced to listen to an octogenarian talk about sex at all, let alone in anything other than the most sanitized and clinical terms and only if absolutely necessary.
Let’s not even dig deeper into the question of his supposedly telling these young men to absolve everything even in the absence of a sign of repentance on the part of the sinner. If that’s true then we simply have more evidence that two “churches” exist side by side. Apparently Our Lord’s instruction that some sins could be refused absolution means nothing to Papa Pervo.
But back to my days studying for the holy priesthood. I will never forget the day when the rector of my college seminary delivered a talk to the 25 or so of us young men sitting in the chapel. It was the weekly rector’s conference. I believe his topic was something along the lines of chastity. Yet somehow, about five minutes in, he began describing in vulgar detail the male ejaculation. Only he used other words. He couched it at first by giving the etymology of the French term “petite mort” – the “little death”. I was so confused wondering where he was going with all of this. And then he just blurted it out. “Men, I’m talking about [Latin conjunction for with]-ing”
I was 19. I had never been with a woman. I was not unwise to the workings of human reproduction. I knew the words he was using. I was still as red-faced as a tomato. In front of the Blessed Sacrament, no less! What was he thinking?
Years later I got a copy of the Catechism of Trent and discovered that the Church used to teach that such matters should be broached with great discretion. Not to our rector. Apparently he thought it was “chill” to be “down with the kids”. Again, I never did figure out how his talk related to chastity or what practical information a seminarian could glean from this garbage. I do remember him describing the marriage act in graphic detail including observations about how couples need to “work together to achieve mutual pleasure”. I’ll spare you those details. You’re welcome.
He went on to become a bishop, the Vicar General for McCarrick, and got his own see not long after. Good old Teddy strikes again.
Coming back to Bergoglio, though, I have no doubt that this story is true. For starters, it appears certain that he abandoned his prepared speech. My guess is he noticed actual theological terms on the first page that he knew he couldn’t pronounce.
Regardless, it would behoove him to remember that just because he’s a twisted fetishist doesn’t mean everyone else is. Also, if you’re still wondering how the older stream of Vatican II wickedness still seems to flow through the Church today, look no further. It’s called grooming and they’ve been doing it for years.
I was asked by a good friend earlier today if I would write a rebuttal to an article linked on Canon212. You will understand why I am not goin to mention either the name of the article or the author or the same. It was a classic screed written by a man who apparently knows very little about Tradition and even less about the Traditional Latin Mass. Frank Walker refers to him as one of the two “ThugBrothers”. I hope Frank trademarks that word. The author waxes idiotic about his premise. “There ought to be one, single liturgy in the Roman Rite,” he opines, or some other such horseshit. “And that liturgy should be the Novus Ordo.” Wow, big shocker from a big brain. He goes on to write a few hundred more words to prove that he has indeed made good use of that thesaurus the other ThugBrother gave him for Christmas.
I remember a conference I attended some years ago in the Denver Archdiocese for Teachers of Theology in Catholic high schools. One of the speakers, a brilliant man, gave a talk wherein he lamented the state of the young mind, how it had been absolutely raped by our degenerate culture. This was in late 2015. He talked of how he would give lectures at local high schools and students would ask him ridiculous questions such as, “Why does the Church hate the gays when they just want to love each other?” and “What’s wrong with trannies and when is the Church going to stop being racist?” He told the assembled group for this conference something that made absolute sense. “I very quickly realized,” he said, “that I will not engage with them anymore. They don’t want answers. They don’t have logic. They cannot argue from reason. Shake the dust from your shoes and move on.” And so to the friend who asked me to rebut the Thug, I will say something similar.
I would love to engage in a battle of wits with this man but I don’t fight unarmed men.
George Neumayer tweeted something recently. I’m not on Twitter but others are and they forward me the tweets. I have been a fan of George for many years. I even had the privilege of meeting with him on one or two occasions. As an aside, he is perhaps the most down-to-earth guy you’d ever meet. He is a true reporter. I admire his work. George tweeted to the effect that the Vatican might not be able to produce the laicization documents for my old ordinary/nemesis Teddy McCarrick because they might not exist. I’d be willing to wager that George is right. I think I shall explore this question further… Stay tuned.
She’s definitely after me, folks. Today I was on a Zoom call with a contractor who casually mentioned he had rescheduled our meeting because of “St. Rita”. Puzzled, I asked what he meant. Turns out his kids go to St. Rita’s School and he got stuck in carpool hell. She’s a clever one, that Rita. Look, I don’t have to have a house drop on me to know she’s up to something. I’m hoping it’s something big. Tomorrow is day 9 for my novena. If you read this post and you think about it, consider joining in one prayer to this saint for my intentions. Thank you.
You Don’t Say
I had a conversation with a young man I had just met at my sister’s house a few nights ago. I may have had a gin in my hand. The lad had recently graduated from college, a fairly good one at that, solid faith, etc. At the right moment I pounced on him with the antipapacy thesis. “But you can’t say Francis is an antipope!” he said breathlessly. “I just did,” said I. “Now fetch me another drink and we’ll continue your education.” A few moments later the Legionaries of Christ came up. “You mean that money laundering rape cult?” I asked. Again my young friend jumped in, “You can’t call them that!!” Again I replied, “I just did. Open your ears, pal, you’re starting to sound like a broken record.”
Old Queers and How We Should Call them
Mr. Walker had a wonderful headline up this week. Beneath a picture of a clearly decrepit Ted McCarrick were the words “Uncle Ted Not Looking Well”.
Look, Teddy has made many deals with Satan. I’m sure we’ll have his nonsense to deal with for a while. Either way he’s an old faggot and there’s nothing worse than an old faggot, as a priest once told me. And to those who still question why I call him and his ilk by this moniker? It’s simple. Noel Coward was gay. These guys? Soul-stealing sodomite faggots to the core.
From the “news” source NJ.com we get the following. Full link here.
So, Brother Joe simply cannot escape the ghettoes of the internet even if he allegedly isn’t trying. Don’t feel bad, Joe. I lost a term paper I was five pages into once. Never hit “Save” and the whole thing went down the drain, lost in the third level of clipboard hell for all time. I know. I sympathize.
Wait, what’s that? This was a case of someone spoofing you on social media?
Oh forget that then…
Dude, you are a spoof of a Roman Catholic prelate. How do you top that?
Sympathy level just dropped. Sorry. I was cleaning my dresser off this morning and the large mason jar I keep with loose change and a few spare F’s got dumped. So it seems, you know, I’m all out of F’s to give, as the kids say.
The thing is Blanche*, I’d be more inclined to care if you hadn’t previously tweeted your love and affection for an Italian pillow-biter or your sister or something. Side note: I’ve said many times before. I have 8 sisters and I’ve never said anything so retarded to them in my life as “Nighty night, baby.”
Oh and by the way, this spoof account has been active for some time. Several siblings of mine received invite notifications to it a few months ago so how’s that Archdiocesan Social Media Director working out for you?
Pray for these men.
Our Lady of Quito, pray for us!
*I am reminded by a reliable source that Blanche was McCarrick’s Golden Girls name. The above should read “The thing is Dorothy…“
This past Sunday morning after mass and breakfast I was on the phone with one of my nephews. This is a part of my usual Sunday morning routine. A solid man, my nephew is also one of my many godchildren. Like myself, he discovered the Latin Mass a few years ago. Like myself, he dove headlong into the study of tradition, wanting to understand this beauty more and more. On Sunday mornings we trade stories about the sermons we heard and any other happenings in the Church at large.
Somehow or other, the topic of Fr. Paul Wickens came up. I think it was as a result of the fact that certain people we know who might be inclined to attend a Latin Mass refuse to attend my nephew’s parish in New Jersey because it was established by Wickens.
If you are not familiar with the saga, click here.
I remember as a boy and later as a young man growing up in the Garden State, in fact in Newark. My parents would discuss news items around the dinner table and in our general activities. They never shielded us kids from the horrors of the world – not to traumatize us but because they believed we should know that evil exists so that we could combat it. Also, both of them – but especially my dad – wanted his children to be able to hold intelligent conversations. Fr. Wickens was discussed occasionally, and always with a bit of sadness. They sympathized with him (they did not know him personally) but they also believed he was wrong to “break from the Church”. Hindsight shows me that he did no such thing and that he, like Archbishop LeFebvre are in fact heroes. Remember that I have a personal history with Ted McCarrick as he plays into this story significantly.
As I spoke with my nephew I was also on the webpage of a tribute to Fr Wickens. This lead me to several articles from sources like the Gray Lady herself, the New York Times. These articles detailed what exactly happened that caused Wickens to “go rogue”.
As I was eyeing the pages, I stopped a moment when I came across the section about how Wickens vehemently opposed the teaching of “sex ed” in Catholic schools.
“Odd,” I remarked to my nephew, “I remember around that time very well. I was in the fifth grade at Our Lady of Good Counsel in Newark. I think Archbishop Gerety, before he retired had implemented a sex ed program in the Catholic schools and McCarrick pushed it through full-steam. I recall, along with my classmates, being handed a book by my teacher on a Friday afternoon and being told to bring it home to show my parents. The understanding was that if they had any objections they could ‘opt me out’.”
I didn’t know what any of this was all about at the time except that the book was clearly about sex.
I was ten years-old.
Being filled with a native curiosity about how things work and, you know, being a ten year-old boy with a book about sex in my backpack, I rushed home, read the book, and then remembered I was supposed to give it to my parents. I did hand it off to them and they, to my surprise, cautiously allowed me to sit through the next three weeks learning how babies were made. If I recall correctly, the book was more clinical than anything else but to this day I do not remember a semblance of moral teaching. And I cannot explain why they did not opt me out except that there were moments in the past 50 years where we have all been caught off guard.
Can I back up to the part where I was 10?
In the time it took me to read that book (it was sonly 30-40 pages long and filled with illustrations), my innocence was destroyed. And people wonder why I homeschool my kids and will NEVER let them into the clutches of another until I am certain they have been formed properly enough to be solid in the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic faith of our ancestors. Sorry if I went a bit off the rails there. That afternoon, something changed. I now had a whole lot of knowledge I did not need at that moment. I had a little bit of confusion too as a 30 page booklet couldn’t possibly fill in all the gaps and, as I mentioned, it left out any moral teaching. In fairness, my teacher never strayed from instructing the class that this beautiful gift was reserved by God for a man and woman in the sacrament of marriage. Thank the Lord for that. And of course, my parents always taught the same and more at home. But something died. My boyhood was over. I was 10.
I came across something quite germane to this discussion in the Catechism of the Council of Trent recently. I’ll quote it here. Remember, the modernists before, during, and after V2 never wanted you to read this particular catechism even though it’s still official Church teaching. Ask yourself how you can be in unity with anyone who denies these truths.
And that’s the problem. The pastor (typically Church law refers to the local bishop as the pastor) was McCarrick, a sodomite sonofabitch. These men are so vile they desire not only to corrupt the youth but to kill their souls. This is classic narcissist behavior. “I’m miserable and you should be too!” They have purged all love from their hearts and they desire your death for their pleasure.
Why do I bring this up? As I continued to read about Wickens, after sharing that sex ed story with my nephew and explicitly telling him how I felt my innocence was robbed from me, I read a line in that Times article. Wickens, it seems, knew what this program would do and did what he was supposed to do. He manfully stood up and said, “Up yours!” In fact, he called a press conference in which he said that this program was not only unnecessary but would, wait for it, “rob children of their innocence.“
How did the Church respond? As you can guess, they got a judge to evict him from his rectory where he’d lived for 29 years. He raised some funds and built a chapel where he offered the TLM. McCarrick’s goons told the world that Wickens had been excommunicated although that appears not to have been the case. And in the early 2000’s, Wickens died, a man willing to suffer much to defend his people – especially the children not only in his care (he had been a teacher himself) but of the whole archdiocese.
And Here’s Where the Soldiers Come Marching In
Men, when are we going to wake up? When are we going to take the stands we have to take? I’m not talking to those who have been fighting this fight for years. No, to those men I raise a glass of my finest bourbon even though I’m a gin drinkier. But not just to those men but to the women, too, like Barnhardt and Mary Ann and Susan from Les Femmes or the Nellie Grays of the wold. If you’ve been arrested to save the babies, you’re my hero. If you’ve called a bishop a faggot without fear of “excommunication” because, well, he’s a faggot, God bless you!
But to the men… Our Blessed Mother told us that the final battle would be over marriage and the family. THE family, not just your own. My vingette is not just a stroll down a thorny memory lane or an expose of the rot. We all knew that was there already. The point of this is to steel our resolve as men. We need to be the Wickens’ of the world. Husbands, fathers, brothers… God gave us the physical strength and spiritual fortitude and the headship over our beautiful families to fight this fight. Your training ground is the altar of Calvary at mass, your home kneeler, and your garage gym. Your captain is St. Michael and your Queen is the Queen of Heaven and Earth.
It’s us. We have to fight for marriage and the family. Don’t be afraid to stand up when you know you must. Resist the heresy. Repudiate the heretic. Learn your faith inside and out. Call out the queers for their evil. Don’t ever let them take the Catholic Mass away from you. Pray. Pray. Pray. And love your wives and children.
Several years back, before we knew his depths of depravity, my mom gave me a book of the collected weekly columns of Theodore McCarrick. The book, titled Thinking of You, contains hundreds of Teddy’s weekly columns that appeared in The Catholic Standard, the archdiocesan newspaper for Washington. McCarrick had written the column for 14 years prior to assuming that see when he was Archbishop of Newark. I’ve held onto the book only because I think it might be a collectors item at this point. That is, if one is a collector of the bizarre.
Every so often I will pull the book off the shelf and thumb through the pages. What amazes me is just how ambiguous the words are. Much like the vaunted documents of Vatican II, every missive in this tome could be read with a straight face and could have been written by a straight man. It is only in knowing the backstory that one sees the hidden and disgusting rot that pervades this man’s evil mind. Take the following for instance.
First, diabolical narcissist much? The first few words read like a Facebook post of a 13 year-old girl. “Like and share if you don’t think I’m not pretty.” On the surface it seems like a banal, congratulatory note of approval for one’s successor. Yet McCarrick knew full well that Wuerl was not a good man. He was one of Teddy’s handpicked boys, someone who had presided over a funeral mass for a priest who had been murdered by a gay rent boy, assuring the congregation that the man was in heaven. No, when McCarrick said Wuerl was a good man, he meant “he’ll do exactly what I trained him to do and that is to wreck the Church.”
It’s kind of like how when Sacrosanctum Concillium says that Latin is to be retained in so many words, yet we end up with a Church who’s mother tongue is all but forgotten because “hey, we still drop a literal word of Latin in once a year or so”. And technically they’re right.
Funny how the key players in attempting to topple the Church all knew the same tricks, isn’t it?
Between the years 1996 and 2001 I was a seminarian for the Archdiocese of Newark.
Well, not quite. I will be working on a piece or two recounting my time in seminary by way of trying to help the reader understand the current state of priestly formation, or malformation as the case may be. Even better, I hope to be able to help the reader know how our current priests came into the priesthood – what kinds of things were taught or withheld, what spiritual formation was given, what the subcultures were like. I can tell you that every seminarian in my house of formation was indeed scrutinized, though not necessarily in a laudatory manner.
Speaking of Newark, does anyone know where McCarrick is these days? His boy McElroy is going to get one of those nifty red hats. Ooh, I have an idea. Let’s play a game. It’s called “Insult My Intelligence”. Here’s how it works. I make the perfectly logical connections and state the obvious that, even in his early 90’s Teddy is still kind of calling the shots in the American Church and you tell me that’s crazy! But you have to promise to say it like Rod Roddy. Anyway, last I heard he was still living on Church property. He was still being, in some way, supported by the Church. I wonder why that is. Why is it a man with his kind of money – keep in mind he was besties with Leona Helmsley and the entire Hilton family – needs remuneration from the Church? Speaking of which, I’ll never forget the time I saw Leona entering the rectory of the Cathedral Basilica for a dinner date with Teddy. I heard some stories afterwards. That’s called a tease because I want you to keep reading (and even to subscribe).
Friends, these are just this trad dad’s musings on a Friday night. It’s been a long week. I hope yours was blessed. I hope you had opportunities to spend time with your families and to meditate on the Passion. I hope you enjoyed the few words scattered on these pages. I’ll leave you with one final thought.
I wonder if we could ever get the Archbishop of San Antonio to say the line: “Rich, Corinthian leather…” If you get it, you get it.
Folks, I got off all that social media nonsense a while ago. Sorry but I'm not on Twitbook, Facepalm, YouHu, WingWang or any of the others. Maybe an event will happen to make me change my mind like Peter and Paul coming down with flaming swords and commanding it be so. Until then, read the blog and if you feel a comment is in order or you feel like sharing a tip or suggestion for a topic, email me at email@example.com.
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