Tag Archives: TLM

A Break from the Insanity – And God Gave Me a Son

Two afternoons ago, I walked into my house after running errands to discover my 14 year-old son sitting at the counter in the kitchen and poring over documents. To be honest he looked like a cross between a 1950’s TV lawyer and an 1890’s dime store novel detective. If he’d had a monocle, he would’ve been wearing it.

The 12th Station, mosaic, St. Patrick’s Catholic Church, Philadelphia, PA

“What on earth is all this?” I asked.

My boy, really my young man, looked up briefly, locked eyes with me, and folded his hands.

“Father,” he said pensively, “I’ve purchased a square foot of land in Scotland.”

My expression changed rather quickly to one bit of bewilderment but of absolute befuddlement.

“Huh?” was all I could muster.

He paused a moment and then capped his initial statement of his real estate prowess with the following.

“Now you have to call me… Lord.”

Good night everybody.

St. Joseph, pray for us!

TLM in NJ…

On Canon212 just now is a link to an article detailing the fate of the ancient Mass in the diocese of Metuchen (NJ).

First, Metuchen… This diocese was carved out of the Trenton Diocese in 1981 and received as its first ordinary a young-ish auxiliary bishop from New York named Ted McCarrick. McCarrick remained at the helm of the fledgling diocese covering affluent suburban Central New Jersey until he was transferred to Newark in 1986. The diocese was then headed by Bishop Reese (*correction: Hughes, Reese was bishop of the neighboring Trenton Diocese at the time*) who was succeeded by Bishop Vincent dePaul Breen, a man who suffered from early-onset dementia, at one point even forgetting the name of a young man he was ordaining to the priesthood – DURING THE ORDINATION RITE! I know this because I know the man it happened to as we had been classmates in seminary. Breen was followed by Bishop Paul Bootkoski (one of McCarrick’s auxiliaries in Newark who had served as Newark’s administrator for almost a year until the arrival there of Archbishop John Myers. Bootkoski had intimate knowledge of McCarrick’s crimes and had even been involved in at least one clandestine payout to victims. When I was in the seminary, the diocese was known to the candidates for priesthood as “Much-a-touchin'”. The current ordinary is a man who excused his flock from the meager obligation to abstain from eating meat on the remaining Fridays of Lent in 2020 because, hey, they had suffered enough with the then-just-introduced Coof lockdowns.

‘Nuff said.

Church of St. Patrick, Philadelphia, PA – one possible alternative to the absence of Latin Mass across the Delaware

Now then, the article on Lifesite lists as an alternative the chapel of the SSPX in Caldwell, an hour north. While this is certainly an option, it is not the only one. I personally know of several Latin Mass options for Catholics in the area of NJ in question. Due to the cloak-and-dagger nature of the current state of affairs, I will not publish them here. However, if anyone wishes to know where he may attend the Mass of the Ages in the Garden State, let him email me and I will reply.

St. Martin of Tours, pray for us!

Thursday Night Roundup: Now with More Vote Fraud!

Let’s Start with Rita

My new friend Andrew from St. Luke’s Gallery (do check out his site and his amazing work) reached out to me this evening with the following picture.

St. Rita statue, lower church, St. Patrick*, Philadelphia, PA

I am blessed to have been able to spread devotion in any small way to this saint of the impossible. She means so much to me and, as I can see, to many of you as well. Know that I am in a perpetual novena for all of you. Please, in your charity, pray for me.

Of Teeth and Matches

My lighter flamed out tonight. It was a Bic. No big deal. They last a few months and then, well, they die. No Last Rites, no Apostolic Pardon. They just eat dirt. I went searching in my emergency stash – my top dresser drawer – and found, among my meticulously folded underwear and a treasure trove of sentimental things I will never part with, the following.

Not what it looks like…

Imagine my surprise when I slid the box open to find not matches to light my Marlboro with but two tiny teeth in a little bag. It seems I know the Tooth Fairy pretty well these past 14 years and he seems to have left my childrens’ chompers there as a gift to remind me of some of the happiest times of my life. I needed to see that (especially now when my kids are practically old enough to vote and my reason for existence is questionable at best).

Upon This Priest Rock

There is a priest visiting my parish from Ireland. He said the noon Mass today. Pray for the priests. I was intrigued after Mass so I went home and Google-stalked him. Turns out our young Father gained some notoriety during the Coof-o-Rama by celebrating the Sacrifice on ancient rock formations along the coast of the Emerald Isle. if you know, then you know. Apparently not long after that he decided that the ancient Mass was what he needed to be immersed in. What a blessing to us in Traddyland! That did not , however, stop some of his detractors online from ranting about his being drawn into tradition. I found the following online and I share it for one reason that you will see presently:

“These Latin Mass societies should be totally and immediately suppressed by Francis and the Vatican. Their foundation and continuation is a direct attack on Vatican II and the intentions of the council fathers as regards the celebration of the Mass in the vernacular.”

If only it was an issue of vernacular language, you ankle-grabbing twit. Continuing…

“I’m surprised [bishop] is allowing [priest] to abandon the diocese he was ordained for to join up with these bunch of nutcases. What about the [diocesan] money soent (sic) on his training? He should gave been forced to do at least 10 years of service in [diocese] before indulging in this fantasy. Were I his bishop I would have given him a firm NO and told him to serve [diocese] or apply for laicization. The priesthood is primarily one of pastoral service. Not a way of indulging liturgical fantasies.”

“Primarily one of pastoral service”? You are retarded.

The priesthood is a sacrament whereby a man (you know, a full grown biological human with a Y chromosome, testosterone, facial hair, and male gonads who happens to not have any degenerate sexual predilections) is configured to Christ the High Priest in order to carry on the Sacrifice of Calvary. Pastoral service? Did you pull that line out of a Marty Haugen ditty or was it revealed to you in a fever dream?

Yes, pray for our priests who are under assault not only from the devil himself but also from his minions in the form of spongiform-brained hippie-dips with a slightly-better-than-DSL connection to the internets.

St. Patrick, pray for us!

*The original version of this post incorrectly labeled the St. Rita statue as being found in Ss. Peter and Paul. It has since been corrected.

Election Day

In just a few hours, Americans (and others?) will head to the polls in a referendum of sorts on Joe Biden. Call me crazy, but I’m not optimistic that anything will change. It never does.

So instead of simply pulling a lever or checking a box, why not make the effort to attend Holy Mass today? You are guaranteed to see Real change – on the altar and in your life.

Just a thought.

Assumption, stained glass, St. Mary of the Assumption, Fort Worth, TX

Our Lady, Queen of Heaven and earth, pray for us!

Updated: November Indulgences, All Souls, First Friday/Saturday: The Grace of God Aboundeth

This post will be updated later with the specifics. For now, I wanted to remind the readership of the things mentioned in the title. I was able to obtain a plenary indulgence today. This was most fortunate as I received news that my sister’s mother-in-law died overnight. Her name is Teresa. Please offer a prayer for her repose.

First Friday Devotion

First Saturday Devotion

November Plenary Indulgences


Ever have one of those days?

My days are typically filled with exciting things. I always get to go to Mass which is the greatest thing to do. I get to teach my kids which is something I truly love. I make no money doing this but when I was a Catholic school teacher I similarly made no money so there’s no change there (when I was an administrator I made even less!). And most days I get to spend an ample amount of time on my front porch in the late afternoon enjoying a gin and tonic and watching my Sacred Heart flag gently blow in the breeze twenty feet above my quarter-acre signaling that all is right in my world.

Today? Not so much.

Today I missed Mass. strike #1.

I got the pleasure of shuttling guests of my wife’s company party back and forth between two area airports and a hotel. I actually enjoyed this as I love meeting new people and I love airports. We’ll call it a draw here.

My dryer is busted. Four years old and the drum ate away at the housing while the dish ran away with the spoon. I’ve been shuttling laundry to my mother-in-law’s house in between my other assigned tasks. Don’t buy a GE.

But the absolute worst thing today was confession. As in, it didn’t happen. I’ve been trying to go specifically for the November plenary indulgence. Unfortunately amidst all of my airport runs, I had to pick a church that I do not usually frequent – as in ever.

Confession at this church runs from 11-11:30. I arrived at 11:32 and got on line. There were five people in front of me. Person #1 enters the box and exits within two minutes. Person #2 meanwhile answered his phone, exited to the adjacent vestibule and proceeded to gab at full volume for about fifteen minutes. Person #3 (now serving as person #2) enters the box and seemingly got sucked into a black hole because she remained there for fifteen minutes. Person #4 enters the box next. While he was in there, the original Person #2 re-enters the church and jumps on the back of the line until… Person #5 (the only man standing between me and the priest at this point) motions for him to come back to his original spot.

The next thing that happened was that this line-cutter went in, presumably confessed his sins, and stepped out just in time for my watch to signal it was time for the moon Angelus. And then he dropped the bomb.

“Father said he has no more time. Sorry.”

So now my question is, when I get to confession tomorrow am I obligated to confess wanting to strangle this man? Kidding. I’m glad someone got his sins wiped clean. Just wish it could have been me.

St. John Nepomucene, pray for us!

One Mile

I could write volumes on what I heard today.

I could. But I won’t. That is because I have been so thoroughly disgusted by what I heard. I was shaken to the core almost as much as the man who told me these things.

Many of you know that I have a “source” in law enforcement. One of my nephews is a detective in a large Northeastern city. From time to time he fills me in on the details of life on the job. Today he called me and this was no ordinary phone call. He was almost trembling as he spent the next hour relating to me the absolute demonic state of our world. And this is the takeaway.

Earlier today, Ann Barnhardt posted another brilliant piece about a subject that used to garner universal support in this country. Her thesis, if I may, is that sodomy is among the worst of evils and a society that ignores such blatant violations of natural law (i. e.: not executing sodomites) is soon doomed to disaster.

My law enforcement source sat through extensive training for the past few days. The topics ranged from investigating financial crimes (and the absolutely criminal ways your government goes about said investigations – perhaps a topic for another day) to more routine “traditional” police work.

The Finding in the Temple, stained glass, St. Mary of the Assumption, Fort Worth, TX

But the thing that left him wondering why God Almighty hasn’t blasted the third rock straight to fiery hell focused on what he and everyone in his cadre referred to as “the single greatest epidemic of our time”. And no, it isn’t fentanyl (though I’m sure that’s not far down the list).

I’m talking about sex trafficking.

I cannot repeat most of what he told me and I don’t want to either. Suffice to say that literal children – pre-pubescent boys and girls all the way down to infancy – are being raped every single day in horrifying numbers. Did we not know this? Well, not to the extent that he made me aware. And the worst part is that we and, of course, law enforcement KNOW that the overwhelming majority are being funneled through that southern border for this express purpose. In one instance alone (for which my source saw the actual evidence) a young girl was raped over 200 times in a single week. And that’s just in one location that was discovered.

What infuriates me most of all is the malevolent obtuseness of the hierarchy in this country – both civil and ecclesiastical – who overlook all of this as they tell you to welcome the immigrant, you racist bitches. Then the ecclesiastical part of that equation take money from the civil side for “refugee resettlement “.

The souls of every one of those children is on their hands.

But the most shocking part of all of this – the reason I write this at all – is what he was told next. this was told to him by his superiors in no uncertain terms.

“There is nowhere on earth that you could go where you wouldn’t be more than one mile from this heinous crime.”

One. Mile.

Think about that. Then get on your knees and pray to be spared the effects of the chastisement that surely must come because God is infinitely just and the lives of these children call out to Him for vengeance.

I’m convinced now that the oligarchs are well aware of this. They don’t care. They’re most assuredly part of it. Dear Lord in heaven, it wasn’t enough for them to murder them in the womb? No, Satan spits in God’s eye as he convinces men to turn their backs on nature.

As the Council of Trent proclaimed: “There isn’t a single sin man would not commit if not for the grace of God.” That goes for you and me alike.

Lord Jesus, Son of the Virgin Mary, spare us!