First lines usually set the tone and this one was no joke.
I don’t like to waste time – mine or yours. Let’s cut through the bullshit. I’ll re-write it for you.
In other words, the synod-goers want a Catholic Church that ISN’T Catholic. That wasn’t so hard, was it?
They want women’s orders, lay-run everything, abortion, contraception, sex, sex, sex, free stuff, more sex only as bizarre as possible this time, and general faggotry busting out all over. Thank you, no. These things are not Catholic. And I won’t apologize for saying it, nor for my tone in saying it. To quote Ann Barnhardt, “I want my Church back, you sonofabitch!”
Let’s see. They want to think of themselves as Catholic but not actually be Catholic. I think we call that the Protestant heresy.
Did someone say antichurch?
It sounded like someone said antichurch?
God in heaven, have mercy on us!
*The original version of this post misquoted Miss B. as “Give me back my Church, you sonofabitch,” instead of the correct version: “I want my Church back, you sonofabitch.” Apologies to Miss B.
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…“
Our Lady of Good Counsel Catholic parish sits at the bottom of Forest Hill in the North Ward of the City of Newark, NJ. The parish was established in 1904 and built up by waves of immigrant Catholics. Hard working Catholics. Pious Catholics. God-fearing Catholics.
By 1941 a massive new church building opened. Constructed under the direction of famed architects Maginnis and Walsh, the Irish neo-Gothic structure seats around 1,000 people. From early on there was a thriving school system in place centered on the parish. Generations of Catholics learned the faith – and the mass – from the Sisters of St. Joseph of Chestnut Hill and holy priests like Fr. Tom Smith
And then the asteroid hit. And like everywhere else the parish began slowly to die.
How do I know so much about this place?
Our Lady of Good Counsel was my home.
This was my father’s parish as a boy and into adulthood. He was baptized here. He received First Holy Communion and then Confirmation in the beautiful big church. He and Mom raised their family here. At least half of the sixteen of us kids were either baptized here, confirmed here, or married here. Six of my siblings are dead and three of them and my dad were buried from here. Many of us attended the grade school here. We worshiped here at daily mass every day for years. My own son was baptized here.
In the 1980’s the parish survived the monstrous and demonic Fr. Richard Galdon. For 25 years three successive Archbishops of Newark (including Peter Gerety and Ted McCarrick) allowed Galdon to stay despite his proclivities for sexually abusing altar boys and Boy Scouts.
There seemed to be a revival of sorts or at least a leveling off in the 90’s. But that was just the sense that it couldn’t possibly get much worse. My father railed against the sex ed curriculum. My mother pulled the youngest two of us out to homeschool us.
Then we had the influx of the Neocatechumal Way and their bizarre nonsense. Oh, by the way, ever hear of McCarrick’s “pipeline”? Yes. Look it up. It was confirmed to me by a very reliable source that it was all true. I guess the pipeline had a spout that run into the gutters of Good Counsel. There’s more. Check out the court filing of Fr. Bob Hoatson and draw your own conclusions.
Coof-o-Rama came along and effectively killed what was left of the core family or two who remained. The parish is still open and “active”. Sure, the schools all closed and the masses are almost non-existent. And now to pay the bills, the pastor and the Archdiocese lease the school buildings to a public high school. This is where we join the story tonight.
The Newark School of Fashion & Design occupies at least some of the property these days. And what a wonderful treat we get when we visit their Instagram page!
What Pride Month celebration would be complete without vulgar displays of twerking, rainbow flags, and God knows what else in the very shadow of the church? I mean, come on, you know the answer. Check out the pictures and video above. I’d recognize that 1950’s-era Catholic Institutional Style linoleum cafeteria floor anywhere! Mrs. Mooney used to serve me lunch there. The outside wall of the school building? Sr. Therese used to greet us good morning and clang her giant brass nun bell right there. And the red brick wall to the right of the kids twerking? That’s the dining room window of the rectory where Galdon abused children and stole their innocence.
Do we expect anything less from Joe “Nighty Night” Tobin? By the way, I’m not being disrespectful. Tobin met with a group of queers in the Cathedral Basilica and told them to call him their “brother Joe!”
Brother Joe, do you support this? Are you one of them? Do we know the answers? Could be. Something about walking like a limp wristed duck and all.
But for the sake of charity let’s assume no one at the chancery had a clue that by leasing space to a school for fashion design there would be a satanic parade on church property.
I’m sorry. I know you’re not dumb. Forgive my use of a literary device.
973-482-1274. That’s the parish.
973-497-4000. Ask for Maria Margiotta, the Archdiocesan Comms Director.
And when Brother Joe gives you his tired synodal gay ways nonsense and says he’s building a bridge and accompanying people and not at all laughing at you for your silly adherence to the sixth commandment and the laws of nature; you can hang up and say a prayer for him.
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.
Harvey is a funny, witty and interesting read. Want to know what's going on in the world of Harvey? Then make a point to subscribe to his blog! You just never know when those pesky Weebles will show up. Hmmm, speaking of Weebles - haven't heard from them in a while (wink). Seriously, you just never know what to expect and whatever you find, it never disappoints! -- Debbi Robertson @ Photos and Facets