November 5, 2013: Crusade through Texas.

Our latest ground-breaking Anti-sodomy Crusade, conducted during the month of September, was in Texas, clear from Amarillo to the outskirts of Houston, cutting through Oklahoma to western approaches to Fort Sill, with meanderings from Wichita Falls to suburbs of Dallas to Waco to Austin to Brady to Fredericksburg to El Paso and back home. We loved Austin in particular, with its friendly, unassuming, down-to-earth people, especially as seen from our vantage-point of several days aside an on-ramp onto a major road. These Texans waved their heads off, gave a hearty "thumbs-up" to our anti-sodomy sign which says "Secede: come out from among them and touch not the unclean thing"! While one father of two boys finally helped us get back on our way from that spot, when, out of our monthly retirement money, we needed a fan-belt replaced. We don't ask much, just a helping hand now and again. Then too there was a lady in a small town who, a mere hour after our arrival on its outskirts, told us "people are talking, and I just had to have a picture of you". Apparently we were on the local news, or else the local grapevine was of an especially swift kind. Of course, Fox or NBC will never pick up on our story, and we don't especially want their input anyway.

After Texas we went to Arizona again, which mostly in Pinal County, with its notorious openly-sodomite sheriff, has become increasingly abusive toward us and our crusade. Thus did two DPS officers—who often work in close conjunction with local county or municipal judges—veritably pounce on us outside Superior, just across from the Arboretum, where on a nice big stretch of gravel we were getting a rousing response from local mountaineers going to and from work in the Valley. And the older of the two officers in particular let out a string of threatening language, full of violent overtones, as if we were a prime part of the Dillinger gang. On another occasion, I was frisked by the Pinal County sheriff's department—obviously operating upon orders from the sodomite sheriff or one of his favorites—and subjected to provocative language, with billy-clubs at the ready to respond to any exasperated response I might make. Ah the vigilance, ah the "united we stand"! Spare me, please: I knew a better and a truly-free America once. And it was destroyed by all the libertines and libertarians who have taken over since then. Zealots whom such police-officers serve with unquestioning zeal.

November 2, 2013: Rehashing the theory of "conspiracy theory".

As stated many time here, this kind of cant or sardonic terminology is the gloating language of a bully who knows himself to be in an insuperably dominant position. To suggest that people are mentally ill whose dearest institutions you consistently invade or hijack, whom you deny any deciding input into things properly their own: this is a kind of schoolyard-reminiscent mockery, and nothing more. The message from all these arrogant, high-handed, media-dominant people is that the good have no right to defend themselves in any way: that to attempt to do so constitutes some form of insanity. For these pampered, over-stuffed paragons aren't satisfied with brutally dominating us and destroying all we hold dear: we are required, sodomite-style, to love it, too. For which purpose—the chief goal indeed of an infiltrator-introduced rogue-council Vatican II—is consistently peddled this idea of a truly-fanatical meekness as the only Christian virtue of any merit at all. Ah, yes, we can hardly forget, the fifty-some years of "love, love, love", the "war no more, war never again", whenever it has been a question of patrolling the borders of Catholic family, neighborhood or parish virtue, or the defense of a Catholic Argentina against a synagogue-controlled Protestant England in the Falklands war. For to quote Holy Scripture: "there is a time to embrace, and a time to be far from embracing".

We who devote much of our energy to exposing this massive, pan-institutional conspiracy—for such it truly is—do so in great measure in order precisely not to be moved to violent extremes. And we make these articles available to all men on earth precisely so that a true acquaintance with this black-hearted universal betrayal—for such it truly is—will lend them the patience and resolve to do good, sane, institutionally-preservative, rational things, rather to go on some hopeless rampage with a gun. Indeed, truly—and let the traitor quake—to likewise be ready to take up arms in an orderly way if necessary, like noble ancestors of old, to defend what they hold dear. In sentiments such as inspired the beloved emblem so often seen on the hats of drill-sergeants, branded on my memory from my basic-training days so long ago. The brass crest composed of a miniature breast-plate surmounted by the stirring words: "This we'll defend!"

September 2, 2013: New Mexico the most recent judicial conquest for the sodomites. Forays of the National Anti-sodomy Crusade in Santa Fe.

The only people here in Santa Fe who are actually in favor of this perverse and tyrannical ruling of a district court—commanding county clerks to issue "marriage" licenses to sodomite couples, thus signaling as well a mandating of all other rights and privileges enjoyed by those others who are truly of the sacred bond—are a tiny minority of left-wing intellectuals and politicians, allied to equally-small numbers of vocal, perpetually-radical and often locally disdained out-of-state artists and connoisseurs. They who have taken "art" to abysmal depths never before seen lending their downward weight to the institution of matrimony as well: an alliance of man and woman made in Heaven being drug down to deepest pits of Hell. For every five-hundred enthusiastic waves, victory-signs or thumbs-up with which the Anti-sodomy Crusade is greeted on these streets we might find one lone expression of disapproval, perhaps a thumbs-down, a frowning shake-of-the-head, or far-less-often some vulgar hand-signal or blood-curdling yell. This lovely city in the mountains having witnessed so many other momentous struggles, a burgh to which a certain air-of-holiness still clings: having over a long Catholic history seen among other things the martyrdom of Franciscans as the unearned price for cruelties of Spanish explorers and governors often venal and power-hungry in the extreme. In outrages against an Indian people who except for a few more nomadic tribes embraced the Catholic Faith with well-documented if near-incredible ardor across all these mountains spread so far and wide. The devotion of a significant percentage of which natives was only finally cooled after the enduring of a half-century of such unconscionable treatment, in the 1650s with the first return of pagan ceremonies and superstitions, ultimately accompanied by the open insulting and persecution of the clergy, and finally by their bloody hatcheting to death, in two separate uprisings in the late 1600s. The synagogue, alas, having played its usual silent-but-deadly role, of the entrenchment of Jewish values at the heart of the colonizing efforts of Christian lands. A cynical corruption which was fought most valiantly of all by the Jesuits, whose undying desire was to keep the wealth in native hands, who much like Templars of four centuries earlier were rewarded with lies, as if they themselves were the exploiters of indigenous Latin American peoples. With condemnation and disbanding to follow by order of an ill-informed and perhaps even poorly-motivated pope. A vicar of Christ, when genuinely elected, who although typically good and pious isn't at all divinely guaranteed to be thus holy or even just, but only to faithfully transmit the Faith, at least when speaking formally "from the chair of Peter", or "ex cathedra". One whose decision in such (typically long-debated) cases is final: just as was that of Peter, as recorded in the Gospels, in Jerusalem and later in Rome.

The biggest concern we find out here among the people—as indeed across the whole country—is that their children are being morally ruined by the schools, the media, and the remorselessly anti-Christian slant of government policy at all levels, but especially the Federal. (The near-universal prevalence of the "at large" election having however delivered even local politics into the hands of wealthy, well-connected and amoral elites, who have no problem raising the money to mount an election campaign. They who for decades now have achieved a stranglehold on politics from the precinct to the county, so that even a return to the old "ward" system could at this late date mean very little in practical political terms.) The common people prior to our secession movement having thus felt utterly powerless, but now visibly emit a ray of hope. A people a great many of whom would rather die than see things continue to devolve so catastrophically, with respect to all things they hold most dear. A people anticipating a new departure, one blessed for a change by Almighty God, upholding at the very least His natural law, "written in fleshy tablets on the human heart". In a secession expected ultimately to garner all states into its ranks, as a group to re-unite as a new and legitimate nation truly "under God".

More will be reported as opportunity arises. We aren't tremendously tech savvy or equipped, and so can get online only occasionally, generally in motel stopovers like today's. But we will keep you informed as singularly-significant and consequential events surrounding our Crusade continue to unfold.

August 8, 2013: Update on May through July crusade through seven states. More on the wiles of sodomites in their desire to lie with the angels. We are anxious to get first drafts of these running accounts "off the presses" right away, which acts as a spur to conduct the result into a better form in the next day or so. Sorry if some of our initial comparisons, criticisms or descriptions don't do adequate justice to people or events out there: a shortfall we try to remedy in these editing and expanding efforts.

Much of the area we went through over these months is now under water: notably some of those very regions that treated our crusade in an especially hostile way. This is a phenomenon we have seen over and over again, as either the divine wrath or the divine blessing seems to attend our Crusade, in the first case like a kind of scythe. Like for instance descended so swiftly upon a bitterly opposed little wealthy enclave in the mountains that in quick succession first had its wells run dry, then was threatened by a raging wildfire, and finally had a dense cloud of the flying ants, termites and other insects that infest our badly-administered forests—fleeing the mammoth blaze—descend upon it like a biblical plague.

Thus too a parallel to local hostility is found in something even worse—reference-to-which is made above and in a previous article, of January, since withdrawn, but its highlights incorporated here—namely this tenacious propensity of locally-notorious and aggressive sodomites to latch onto us out there on the road, or wherever we are found: not in the welcome manner of an honest and respectful self-admission but under well-rehearsed pretenses of avid interest or heartfelt support. Of course, subterfuge is the essence of sodomy's entire approach, and "counting coup" is achieved in putting others in blind-sighted or compromised circumstances, which easily obtain whenever total strangers and geographical foreigners are involved. Well, we saw this phenomenon in spades these past three months or so, having most notably discovered out there a species of "new evangelism" which is an integral counterpart to the secularist political doctrine being ceaselessly cranked out by the establishment, whether clerical or official, educational or occupational. Namely in the agnostic/dogmatic assertion that we have a humanity which we cannot possibly control, and that the most cruel and wicked of men are those who expect or encourage us to do so. For now, I won't go into all the ugly details of these odious encounters, only commenting that "born again" sodomites—by all biblical testimony a mocking contradiction-in-terms—account for a large percentage of those who stop to talk when we are out there, while we show our large signs on the side of the rig, waving congenially at folks passing by. These overt and indeed aggressive sodomite responses to our Crusade—in less religious cases often including lewd acts of public exposure—demonstrating again that there is nothing very "private" about the sodomite approach, despite endless vociferations about utterly-harmless "privacy" rights transgressed, with quaint images promoted of "good neighbor" sodomites, ever minding their own lawn-tending affairs. Of course, all our unguarded waving and smiling makes us a dead ringer for these most cunning of our age, who belong more in ancient Canaan than even in our own weird and twisted time. But meanwhile, to demonstrate how "harmless" this whole pro-sodomy campaign is, since the inception of our Crusade in 2007 we have faced the utter impossibility of buying a house, as determined by the refusal of realtors, and often indeed of motel or RV-park owners or managers, to even deal with us, in view of our Crusade, known-of instantly wherever we go. So that we are always more or less desperate—"yet behold, we live!"—in that regard. Sweeping and totalitarian being the propaganda-war, the economically-based stranglehold that the synagogue—the perennial universal sponsor of sodomy par excellence—and their secret-society supporters—exercises more inescapably each day.

The sodomite agenda is powerfully motivated by what might be called strategic violence: in a domestic parallel to the false-flag 9/11s that for the past twelve years so abound: a cunning all-points propaganda mechanism, a form of diabolical persuasion powered by the convincing nature of blood and gore deftly alternated with political and incarcerational oppression—which effectively cows the public into submission. In the one case before a host of aggressive wars and the creation of "terrible enemies", in the other before a sodomy-blitzkrieg which calls forth powerful images of Hitler's own (Thule Society) Skull-and-Bones sodomite/Albigensian high-command. This policy-driven culture of violence—a perfect ancillary to the ongoing anti-Christ culture of death—being arduously manipulated by operatives at every level to terrorize and criminalize any who stand in Obama's preternatural policy path: even though it is the sodomites themselves who kill each other in such numbers, while the natural are forced to forego measures of moral self-defense for fear of finding themselves in prison, gang-raped repeatedly by the same infernal crew. Alas, there is an Abu Ghraib or a Pitesti awaiting all who would resist this agenda-of-treason: but for indomitable aid of Almighty God. Hence is the willing sacrifice of a few sodomites—among whose numbers rapes, beatings, murders, and any number of bruising encounters are in-any-case the order-of-the-day—required to keep the illusion of persecution going signature 9/11 style. And "ordinary Americans" are commissioned to kill school-children, whole families or scores of theater-goers, so that this delirious illusion of mass-homicide by secretive madmen, of bizarre figures with theatrically bulging eyes and suspiciously-Jewish-sounding names, can rule men's terrorized minds. The list goes interminably on, with the "ordinary Joe" mowing-down of pedestrians on crowded sidewalks with careening cars, or bloody "right wing" rampages of Lochner in Tucson a couple of years ago, and some parallel to be found monthly in the news. Things detailed and analyzed frequently on this site, with parallels in every conceivable field-of-activity. In a veritable hijacking of American society which will not cease until the traitors are rounded up and destroyed.

But we are protected quite well by the divine aid and that of Our Blessed Lady: she who covers us with her mantle when danger, whether official or candidly criminal, is near, perhaps on occasion after the very manner of her maternal rescue centuries ago of a priest in revolutionary France, hunted by Jacobins just then scouring a certain home. And when the cleric—as attested by a wide-eyed four year old girl, a daughter of the large families of those times—was seated openly at the dining-room table, and no doubt had to be skirted-around by the grizzly crew in their vain search for him. The good father having been perfectly hidden "by a beautiful lady in blue who threw her mantle over him". Alas too, in another sense, how many stunning parallels do we find today to that other little girl who in her equal innocence and simplicity—that which in person of tenderest youth is under most cunning attack today—cried out that "the king has no clothes!". In which case we speak not of prodigies reserved for the eyes of the most innocent but of rank evils and betrayals that should be obvious to all. Hence thankfully all we've had to deal with ourselves have been certain oversteps, albeit almost as murderous in another sense, from people who if identified, and by testimony of name, manner and commanding attitude, turn out incredibly often to be Jews. They who by-and-large are most remorseless in inflicting upon chaste Christian children of God the morbid, infernal attentions of the sodomite world. The whole strength of the position of these consummate actors, Jewish or not, is in the fact that you know nothing about their intentions, and are likewise of that ingenuous character that isn't jerk-knee suspicious of every ostensibly friendly gesture or word, running all through a cynical and humorless mental sieve. All of which "vigilance" (one of a handful of recognized "virtues" of our day) is said to comprise that street savvy which is the only recognized "ethical" asset in a modern brainwashed world. Indeed a whole town or jobsite in which you find yourself is probably privy to ugly secrets involved, in the depths of which snare you are being administered a "test" by a scant but powerful minority, of major-actors and feisty protégés of every politically-correct kind. Truly, it is only when this filthy and disgraceful world of today is finally consumed in the last conflagrations of the coming divine holocaust that such fantasies and morbidities will finally be abandoned, such obsessive efforts of sodomites to overcome the good, and of the complicit compromised to "feather their nests". Sodomites being egged on by both their haters and their admirers, attended by consuming, self-trivializing curiosities of increasingly common U.S. standers-by. Here being a pathological sociology, a diseased personhood, an integral component of a go-it-alone, neighbor-ambushing, perpetually-combative "American Dream" (or rather nightmare) we spread around the globe by the point of a guided bomb. That social pathology which—as the whole world now knows—goes with the latter illusion like a hand in a glove.

This is by far the costliest price we pay for carrying this anti-sodomy sign around from coast to coast, if mostly for now in the West, having to endure the belabored attentions of voyeurs, fondlers of underwear, breathless oglers of pictures of naked babies, seekers of real or imaginary sexual escapades of every conceivable kind, imperviously-protected dangers to mankind that they are. People upon whose faces an abysmal lack-of-character often plays in the most morbid, deadly and disgusting way, mammoth numbers of which ill-named "gays" are killers, stalkers, certifiable BTKs. People regularly met-with in gorier details of the evening news, ruefully familiar to the beat-working police, although such offenders are never—that wouldn't be Obama-politic—acknowledged for what they are. And when such crusaders as we find ourselves in a bind, through subterfuges of this kind—a coup most intently desired by this breed, whose like are amply found among the D.C. establishment all the way back to Johnson, Kennedy, Roosevelt, Wilson and before—we are held back from realizing our own moral and honorable defense in that violent way perfectly appropriate to sexual assault, whether open or disguised. As the sodomite crowd—whose days are now numbered by impending Heavenly wrath—know so well how their vast network of favorable legislative, judicial and executive fiats and pronouncements have tied the hands of the good, so that they can dare go about importuning them with their mocking pretenses, their sadistic obsessions, their satanic fetishes, nauseating symbolic oversteps, telescoping associational code-words, and so on. Ever the timeless fare of any criminal crowd. Thus often beset are we, importuned endless times by the same unnatural breed, identifiable to a degree by their incredible ability to convincingly mock Christian behavior, especially Christian joy—indeed to pose as biblical "angels of light"—as well as by a copy of affection that somehow passes for kindness or even Christian love. They who call this underhanded imposture "being gay". Unhappy circumstances which we might be said by some to invite—being thus misunderstood by those who don't at all understand our Crusade—simply because we refuse to be stiff and unfriendly "macho" or porcelain-doll boors, or even to put a contribution button on our site—which would create an insufferable distance between we and the folks out there, and instantly make us prey to persuasions of powerful donors, who, as in the case of so many originally-good politicians, would probably soon gain complete control of the Crusade, and turn instead it into a charade. Thus the fate of such groups as the Society of St. Pius X: whose saintly founder indeed died in the most mysterious of circumstances, surrounded by cadres of his ever oddly-stiff and militant clerics. We instead preferring rather to depend upon divine providence: going crusading on occasion, perhaps across three or four different states, with nothing more than a pitifully-small retirement allowance. As we want to go out to others in humility, we wish to identify ourselves in particular with Afghanis and Pakistanis being just now blown to smithereens, in this cosmic and continual, synagogue-orchestrated, false-flag war upon humanity: demonstrating that we know some little bit about their unpretentious lot. It is then that the sodomite crowd descends upon us in full form, as when there is an engine problem, half the time the result of a mammoth sabotage of a "gay" mechanic in the town or state before (how many of these theatrically "macho" mechanics are sodomites is a well-guarded secret indeed). But by far the most common disguise these perverts employ nowadays—for they are all good actors, which is of course the whole pith of what they do—is as noted as "born again" Christians of the most fervent kind. They—worst of all—who are indeed consciously and overwhelmingly accepted as such by bible-thumping congregations from coast to coast.

Finally it becomes obvious to us that these morbid criminals are getting more out of this thing than meets the eye, as some modest amount of "help" is attended by bouts of mawkish stupidity, hysterical laughter, over-emotional personal tributes (toward one of us, depending on the gender of the one thus occupied) that have nothing to do with our Crusade, overtures full of overtones of a prying and violating kind. We have had to endure this kind of treatment a great many times: even if each of these eager beavers seems to think he/she is the first to have thus made their mark. This odious triumphalism of the sodomite crowd plainly going light-years beyond thus-unkindly-named benign and charitable (if New-Church-despised) traditional-Catholic tokens of the social reign of Our Lord Jesus Christ of the mid-twentieth century. In the present case a triumphalism of people who the more you find out about them—disturbing voluntary or involuntary self-revelations they should put on MSNBC together with all the false bonhomie—the more you want to run. Is this then the notorious "homophobia"? Well then I admit to it with all my soul.

But finally it begins to mean nothing at all, even to those local townspeople whom yokel sodomites had hoped to impress at our expense: among which wonderful folks are likewise found those occasional inspectors of beard or blouse, fender or collar, imbedded in the fabric of every town, whose dire Gothic-American attentions we, wrinkled, unwashed and unshaved denizens-of-the-trenches that we are, scarcely aim at at all, but which by inescapable circumstance we must endure nonetheless. This, then, alas, is what a certain number of "the locals" probably remember most about us—hardly a sterling view—by guarantee of the gossip mill downtown, at the mechanic's-shop or convenience store: while that ninety-nine-point-nine percent more that went whizzing by, transfixed for a moment by our anti-sodomy crusade sign, saluting us with a hearty thumbs-up: these are the ones we are concerned with above all else. While the dour and irreconcilable are however a rare treasure all-their-own, a precious kind of scourge: one that makes our work the-more-fruitful, allowing us to do penance in a gauntlet of the most trying and startling ways. (When people are tooling by at thirty to sixty miles an hour, at a typical distance of a hundred or more feet, they can notice little about soiled collars, outdated blouse or shirt styles, or slightly-bent fenders and unwashed windshields, their eyes rather riveted on our eight-inch-lettered display). While above-noted local perverts—of which every town has a delegation—are finally left with the same old low-life crowd—their long, inescapable docket of "friends", like the TV series itself—they cavorted with in prior days. (According to good authority, the sodomite will have an average of two or three hundred "sex"-partners in the course of an obscure, haunted and Hell-bent life).

There is much to report about this latest seven-state crusade. Due to certain novel circumstances the last two months of it were spent basically broke in terms of money, dependant upon the tiny trickle of on-the-spot personal donations that comes in, from a people that although mostly favorable to what we are doing are deathly afraid of getting involved in anything, fearful indeed that we ourselves might be part of some "sting" operation, making them victims of some Obama all-departments info-harvesting scythe. Hence the allegedly-typical response to the standard poll: conceding an unenthused tolerance for the evil, as long as the respondent himself is left out of the loop. Accordingly did we have an eventful crusade to say the least—no doubt with a total of at least a hundred thousand having read all or some portion of our bold signs: one of which now reproduces the biblical line, "Secede! "Come out from among them and touch not the unclean thing". While likewise was realized many-a humble but divinely-procured material deliverance, with two conspicuous miracles having taken place with regard to distances: whose details are a treasure for we crusaders alone.

It seems to me that the reason God does these prodigies for us is to assure us of his omnipotence, of His overarching care, of His great love: as these miracles typically happen when we are in dire need, and have come to fear the worst ("Ah, ye of little faith!")

August 8, 2013: Article further developed. Treacherous subtleties abound as "Catholic" network outlets like EWTN attempt to "manage" news and faith alike.

Last night on EWTN the Church of the past was compared to a dusty attic full of keepsakes or odds-and-ends, an endless collection of opulent notional picture-frames, scrap of cherished but outdated clothing, and unused piece-of-furniture: mere imagery reducing negative consequences-of and reactions-to the Vatican II era to the level of a lot of hurt but after-all irrelevant sensibilities. By the single magical touchstone of "progress", of a whirlwind modification of our entire experiential world to a massive avalanche of gadgetry, aggressive warfare and failed mortgage instruments, could this portly cleric with the playful grin deftly demote the whole human corpus of Catholic tradition—admittedly with a small t—to the Protestant-definitive level of a heap of "irrelevant" schmaltz. Catholicism being by such effortless means subjected to the sort of mockery in which its worst enemies have always rejoiced, but now in rectories and "Catholic" studio productions the world round. For what you have in these Western "Catholic" manifestations of today is a smoothly-scripted, cynical adaptation to Judeo/Masonic methods and principles, a glib finding-of-fault with treasures of old, these held up to mocking comparison with today's military/industrial obsolescence-based world: the whole with few if any initiatives on the part of the Holy Ghost Himself. He Who either rules all stirrings of thought, word or deed in the Church or they must come from nether precincts instead.

Hence too for example this latest studio production about the Mexican Cristeros, one which rigidly follows the Masonic/heretical line of New Church about an allegedly-doctrinal radical separation of church and state: a film which thus claims that these intrepid Catholic warriors against the Nero-like Calles were only concerned about "religious freedom", and mouthed the phrase incessantly far and wide, before firing-squads, as battle-cries. And were thus presumably as willing to die for the "equal rights" of Jews and heretics to publicly mislead others by the polemical promotion of error as they were to perish for the blessed and authentic liberty of Holy Mother Church: the true, Heavenly and rock-solid libertarian phrase. For the irrefutable, constantly-demonstrated fact is that we never need worry about helping wickedness and falsehood along, about guarding their prerogatives—as these always have a dense cloud of earthly and preternatural defenders doing formidable battle for them—but that once a nation has embraced the Faith its laws, media and institutions must form a bulwark to help man save his soul, must defend those "sure means" given him by Christ and the Apostles, by the living and breathing Church, His Mystical Body. As there is nothing especially "impartial" about this earth and the things it witnesses or contains, and men in all their institutions must choose between good and evil or be judged as embracing the latter by cowardly default.

Sound theologians used to say that the difference between doctrine and heresy is seldom more than the width of a conceptual hair: but the challenge to the New Church heterodoxy of the past sixty years has been to discover enough of these hairs-of-error to construct a superficially-convincing, all-encompassing counterfeit of Catholic Faith. In support of which turbulent agenda has been put in place this New Church edifice, this string of anti-popes and religious congregations, colleges and media organizations to perpetuate this novel idea of Catholic Faith. Even though the whole concept of novelty in any moral or spiritual form in Church history is repugnant in the extreme, a sort of theological contradiction in terms: for purposes of which fabrication of course the noted Jacobin/Judeo-messianic remedy of "progress" would be liberally applied. Once this unearthly amalgam of methods and falsehoods is put into motion, "success" proceeds with all the irrational force of gravity, "drops like adamant", little effort being required, soon rendering even these obscure machinations unnecessary. For as those in charge know, seemingly far better than their ga-ga-deluded victims, faith cannot long survive this gamut of warping and disfigurement. While as icing on this odd new cake the "traditionalists", in major part only a yet-more-sophisticated arm of the same well-planned infiltration, would claim that "the Mass is all that matters", that as long as it is preserved the Faith will be too: roundly ignoring the historical fact of Orthodoxy, which also has valid Sacraments. The standard traditionalist increasingly practicing a morality in all major respects Jewish to the very core, in a fundamental sense foreign to Catholic Faith, incapable of conveying the latter to future folds.

Most irreconcilable with all these cynical promotions-of-falsehood is the mystery, the paradox and profundity of the One True Faith: elements most responsible for its irresistible drawing-power. An existential reality impossible to render in mere words, let alone in these false and facile forms: a sort of lingua franca of Heaven which theatrical productions of mere human genre can never convey: try as they may. Among which "genuine articles" we consider here only one: the way in which the holy souls of the genuine Catholic past always had something austere and solitary about them, even in the midst of pressing crowds, in labors-of-love, in active ministrations of every sort. You always felt you were first and foremost speaking to God and not to man, when in the presence of one of these holy men, some few of whom I was privileged to know in my youth. (Well-remembered possessors of something that however could hardly have been conveyed by well-rehearsed incoherent mutterings of "holy men" of today, by body language or histrionics, but that must come from the unselfconscious depths of the soul.) The human being involved having been "hidden away with Christ in God", or according to that enchanting Old Testament expression, "hidden in His (the divine) Face". An encounter which tended to initiate you further into this divine charity—for that's what it is—and to remove you from the tumult of overflowing emotion, or "the madding crowd", certainly from studio or workplace mockers that nowadays so abound. Love being found after all to be a quiddity, a reality, and only superficially an emotion: and discipline in a proportional irony a passionate labor-of-love, in this inimitable alchemy of grace. This concrete interiority as it might be termed is what Catholicism first and foremost always is, and the prime reason it has always been so persecuted, and that its most-towering summits are readily accessible to unlettered men. Being so full of mystery, of the annihilating presence of God, of souls imbued with things more mighty than mortal man can himself command or convey. Arousing the envy of fiends mortal and spiritual, official, "apologetical" and preternatural: as in Satan's first revolt against the Heavenly throne.

Thus when EWTN or one of its many associated networks or studios makes a movie about the life of a saint it almost always fails miserably to convey this reality, incommunicable in mere human terms, and tends to produce a shallow, brittle or facile two-dimensional figure, in the case of the typical biography, either uncontainably emotive and humanist or coldly disciplinary or remote: as it hasn't the grace to portray the genuine, awful-yet-magnetic virtues that sainthood truly involves: both a real-time and a theatrical ability lost in the roiling chaos of Vatican II. Productions which sometimes indeed incorporate errors or even heresies in their nebulous or anachronistic scripts. Indeed, had early Christians not displayed so much of the haunting and indefinable qualities of true holiness they would hardly have been perceived as much of a threat, would scarcely have been thrown to the lions in such numbers. Nor for that matter would silence-loving, divine-mystery-contemplating American Mexican Catholics of pre-Vatican-II times—no doubt cultural-flea-market ignoramuses to the quipping cleric paraphrased above—have been subjected to centuries of brutal, peevish and petty-minded persecution from super-sanitary "lets have it all out in the open" Anglo-Americans of every creed and kind. Hence too the incessant American-Catholic saw, the excuse for every folly, excess or wrong: that American Catholicism is "less demonstrative", more practical-minded, less "emotional", and so on, than any other kind. Which is to suggest arrogantly that the mysticism inseparable from traditional Asian- or European-Catholicism is mere shallow display, while Americans thrive on rigors of the biblical "meat diet". Certainly a vast judgment upon everyone from the European peasantry to John of the Cross to St. Paul: an indictment which could never accept the possibility that American Catholicism typically contains little spiritual maturity or profundity at all, thus understandably running no hazards of exaggeration of fervor, or misstep of indiscretion on a mystical seven mansion rocky road. But according to St. John Cassian gravity is what really characterizes the perfect and well-matured soul—a quality virtually unknown here in a Sunday-morning elbow-to-the-ribs USA—expressing profundities involved in true holiness, being a disposition that graces the countenance of those in whom all the virtues are tried and tempered in furnaces of suffering, fully developed and in perfect balance, joyful and sober at one and the same time.

Almost as exasperating as all the above is the way in which EWTN seems to politely undercut everything we say here—although since we are never mentioned by name, we have no way of knowing about this for sure—and certainly off-handedly discrediting anything from anyone that isn't as limp and palatable as their own worked-over fare. Well-marketed monopolizers of Catholic thought, they, who operate hand-in-glove with well-placed Jewish and Masonic collaborators, secularist counterparts in all fields who crank out interminable thought-herding economic and methodological path-dependencies, such as only an air-tight pan-institutional totalitarianism can possibly command. All this fevered activity to ultimately map out a pseudo-Catholic artificial-reality-landscape which will fill every devious need: since plainly there's so much at stake here for all Hell, in a project of Faith frustration and infiltration that is hardly anything new, having been chronicled with horror by St. Paul, and gone on thereafter for two thousand years. A station in which a morally facile political philosophy—aptly termed Hannity-war-hawk conservatism—is kept rigidly if tacitly in place—and all else laughingly, dismissively or witheringly cast aside. With (a recently dismissed?) Raymond Arroyo, this Campbell woman, or the frostily-KGB-like interviewer on "Where God weeps" significantly dialoguing with a host of highly-partisan "on the spot observers" who plainly support this gun-boat-diplomacy view: one which has a thousand corollaries in every region or issue currently in play. A centuries-old Yankee saw which currently allows for loud protests over abortion while at the same time winning you friends in high places indeed. A big-boy-protégé culture-of-death all its own, a flag-waving view whose look-alike Hitler, try as he might, could never succeeded in coercing from the largely-courageous German Catholics of his own hardly-more-wicked day. A "party line" which will never expose you to dangers or accusations of any serious kind, such as Catholic saints since the Reformation have so often faced. (Indeed, wouldn't such a friends-in-high-places "get out of the Coliseum free" card have been handy to martyrs of old?)

Of course, this sanctimoniously-pursued policy of compromise has been the well-rewarded consistent posture for the American Church since times of the revolutionary bedfellow zealots John Carroll and Benjamin Franklin: a politely-advanced, largely-yet-deafeningly unspoken Jacobin position for centuries and with only a few tidy and scarcely-painful exceptions unquestioningly supportive of the Judeo-Masonic cabal that has always ruled D.C. Hence for example, according to the station's policy of undercut, as it might be called, is any support of Russia—the all-important current global "bad-guy" of U.S. foreign policy and Obama sound-bite alike—offhandedly and with seeming oblivious non-advertence discredited by the clear EWTN insinuation only last night that Russia is one of the biggest aborting countries in the world. However a contrary and indeed heroic view of Russia is much more accurate: a nation victim of an early-nineties looting of the whole gamut of her financial assets by a Geoffrey-Sachs-headed Harvard commission sent to "assist" the Land of the Don. Such treachery a haunting déjà vu from a century ago, when the Red October revolution was largely funded by Wall Street moneys and led by a Lower East Side cadre of ever-incendiary Jews, gathered up there by Lenin not long before the Bolsheviks took power. Our more honest and positive view of a Russia grossly victimized being germane to Fatima-predictions of a recovery of Faith the world over, starting with Russia's own imminent conversion: a divergently-positive perspective on Russia held-to tenacious on this site. While the noted threadbare, utterly-non-evidentiary Big Stick assertion against her is one which would seem to roundly disqualify her for any morally upright—let alone heroic—roles of any sort at all. And although I speak on this site of mysteries from Heaven rather than of human conjectures about moral fitness, yet my own study of Russian habits regarding abortion indicate a dramatic drop in their frequency after the fall of communism: when they were committed under the watchful eye of a coercive regime. Thus taking the one identifiable (and thus contestable) assertion of the same interviewee at face value, namely that Stalinist Russia was the global originator of today's womb-related culture-of-death: yet the policies of the domestically-hated mid-century genocide can hardly be sufficient grounds for an accusations so breezily hurled against Russians-at-large. Russian abortions which my own studies, in web-readings recalled from memory, admittedly of at least a year ago, suggest have diminished by staggering degrees, down to something like five percent or less of what they were before. But the whole dark slander—like a host of assertions against Muslim nations not wet-noodle-docile to U.S./Israeli ambitions in the Middle East—does go along swimmingly well with the mindset of Hannity and the Fox gang, which operates as a sort of political wing built seamlessly onto a shamelessly supine New Church rectory of these times.

But alas according to Anne Katherine Emmerich today's less-timorous enemies of faith will not be satisfied with these polite or smilingly-up-the-sleeve surrenders of immemorial Catholic Faith: which can hardly be compared to a dusty attic in any just, accurate, let alone filial-pious way. For to quote one of these adversaries foreseen by the visionary, in the act of making his own assessment of this New Church of our times—a foe with no illusions, described, to paraphrase, as " a member of a cruel race"—"do build it up as high as you can: we will only pull it down again". This outwardly-imposing but unstable and deeply-compromised structure being the very same one parts of which, like EWTN, are being described in this article, of whose ominous, catastrophic future appearance the seer was just then in the nineteenth century being celestially informed. For alas, although New Church for now has many friends in high places, and can on occasion even say or do some good or harmless things, in the end there will be no satisfying the synagogue's insatiable desire to destroy the last obscure memories of Catholic Faith, except by the Church's complete disappearance. Indeed, to quote some Judeo-Masonic spokesman of the Revolutionary Era, I think it was Voltaire: the gamut of fevered anti-Catholic subterfuges and assaults is not to diminish until "the last pope is strangled with the entrails of the last reigning monarch". Hence hardly can the quibbling moral slurry detailed here be the Heavenly mortar with which the immovable City of God will be built up to a generously-predicted towering and impregnable stature once again.

May 10, 2013: Call for a Western-states secession from a perverted Washington, in pious fear of God before threatening signs from above.

Discussed here on this site over the past month and more have been some supernatural events of my own poor life—foregoing corollaries that they are to cosmic events of today, in the now-skewed orbit of the earth, in apocalyptic weather-events, blamed heedlessly on "global warming"—to which personal encounters-with-the-divine will now be added another, this one experienced by both my wife and I. This happening having to do with a small picture of the Russian icon of Our Lady of Kazan: an image, humble replica though it was, which we were enjoined by the same Mother of God to take on a sort of auto-pilgrimage around the Western United States, in the very first years of our marriage, joined in July of 1972. This we indeed accomplished with the little picture, a sort of dark Madonna much like Our Lady of Chestakova of Poland, said also to have been painted by one of the Apostles from the very living person of the Blessed Virgin, still alive on earth, sitting there before his very eyes. While obviously this relationship with Our Lady of Kazan bears close affinity to our call for Russia to embrace the Catholic Faith and thus to outfit herself to play the major role she is obviously called upon to fulfill. This as enjoined by Our Lady herself in Fatima in October of 1917, the very year and month of the Bolshevik revolt, in a series of apparitions attended by stupendous miracles recounted here and there on this page. All in an end-time panoply of unfolding bible-and-seer-predicted events destined to figure large in the saving of both Church and world from their evident impending moral doom.

Most pertinent to the noted heavenly incident of our own personal experience is the fact that abortion had back then only a year or two earlier been "legalized" by the U.S. Supreme Court: lending somber meaning to a sequence of Heavenly events to be described in the next few lines, a drama held to have close relation to these unfolding cosmic political and religious milestones, germane to which as well is our own Frankpledge Party and Anti-Sodomy Crusade. The drive to legalize abortion having been a cunningly-crafted, heavily-elite-funded, unstoppable, baby-killing campaign-of-treachery, already for years conducted in several states, against which I, a decorated Vietnam veteran, had initially vaguely contemplated mounting an armed revolt, already in 1971. Having fought communism in Southeast Asia, being ready and willing to fight it here too. This desire having however been the most unformed and unarticulated of projects, expressed indeed by not a few of those times in the same confused way, having nonetheless all along been greatly encouraged—indeed in large measure inspired—by a certain nefarious older brother, himself more or less a "washout" from the military, murderously jealous of my own sterling army record. A very eloquent and seemingly-patriotic man who at the pivotal moment, when I had with finality decided against the whole idea, turned traitor against me and attempted to have me committed to a mental institution, as plotting the overthrow of the USA, being violently insane. Thus apparently did this Judas hope to establish himself as the most notable and "heroic" of sons: a distinction which in ten years in the military he had failed so miserably to achieve. He being nonetheless joined by basically all my rather numerous siblings—as slander will always find adherents, itching for some salacious thing—these sheep-like followers showing up with him in a body to "take me in". Against which I, wisely or not, offered no resistance, signed the "five day release", and was duly discharged as not requiring such confinement at all. Yet nonetheless, in defiance of the court, as well as of numerous tokens of the intervention of God on my behalf, claiming a kind of infallibility-of-judgment in this cruel assessment of me, in years close after the rigors of combat, there would be orchestrated over two decades by this mediocre and complacent family of mine—with the notable sole exception of my noble father—several high-handed interventions, in one case being joined in intrigue by the New Church pseudo-Catholic diocese at home. The cohort, much like the mob led by Judas to the Garden of Gethsemane, being led in all cases openly or in the background by this violent, unsavory and irresponsible brother, repeatedly dragging me back into court, using recently-minted radical court "doctrines", as if in a "test case", ultimately to the ruin of me and my wife, the woman who stood by my side through it all. While accompanying this bizarre plot against a brother any pretenses of help were always laced with a deeper bad will: a phenomenon of duplicity one has to experience to understand. This a weary sequence of events doomed indeed to be replayed in the lives of a host of Vietnam veterans, if often minus such spousal loyalty and devotion, they who like me refused to bow to a still-deliriously-celebrated, revolutionary, sex-and-drugs-dictated "hippy" behavioral code. A national mockery destined to be fraught with millions of abortions-on-demand, in homicides just then being imposed, a tide-of-infamy forming our laws, customs and conventions, a dope-driven creed-of-chaos for the most part deliriously embraced here in the USA. All this being the final bitter harvest of a USA taken over from the beginning by forces of the Godless synagogue, itself as always at the head of a coterie of secret societies, together the irresistible determiners of the national fate since Benjamin Franklin and the Boston Tea Party. This "enlightened" political philosophy marching most fundamentally under the banners of a radical separation of church and state doctrine: embodying the all-points denial that the law of God—at the very least in its natural law form, "written in fleshy tablets on the human heart"—is the sole source of all valid law. This natural law in turn to be found in legislation all the way back to Hammurabi and before, in codes and laws which except for a few backward and perverted tribes or nations have always execrated and criminalized abortion, sodomy, and all those bizarre and shameful practices now being so notoriously and "progressively" promoted from Washington D.C., basically, in one way or another, willfully or by omission, from both sides of the isle.

Of course to this cabal set up in absolute power in the nation's capitol any messages or signs from Heaven are sheer illusion, and it is certainly not to them that we make this appeal, or reveal these happenings of years ago, but rather to the good and solid citizens of the USA of which there are still a considerable number, especially in the West, as well as to that vast majority of others who although misled and morally corrupted bear a diminished responsibility for same. Being victims of an inescapable institutionally imposed brainwash from schools and government, media and workplace, orchestrated by the same cunning breed: one which is resisted only with the greatest difficulty, and with accompanying penalties of sudden dismissal, peer rejection, social isolation, dire poverty and easily even ultimate homelessness and dereliction. Yet somehow my wife and I have managed to survive the experience of all of these unjust penalties for our genuine patriotism, and especially for holding firmly to our Catholic Faith—denied by the Vatican II pseudo-church—a creed handed down from holy forebears of the anno domino millennia. And we stand before you now, offering to lead this Crusade against the traitors and perverts who now rule so heavy-handedly from Washington D.C.

But returning to where it all started, back then around 1974: my wife had had a intellectual vision—the sort which it is impossible to mistake, due to certain characteristics hard to describe in a few short lines—in which she saw in succession first the Virgin Mary, and then a map of the far-Western United States, after which she heard the holy Madonna say, to paraphrase, again in a manner heard as it were only by the ears of the soul, "I want you to take my image to these states". While this command was further appended, in days to come, by an unmistakable inward warning that if it were not obeyed that she would die. Nonetheless, we failed to take the vision and warnings seriously, whereupon in short order Joann my wife, having taken ill with some sickness, took a sudden turn for the worse. So much so indeed did she sicken that she soon collapsed on the bed, and as the crisis ensued was unable to even utter a sound, though she tried with all her remaining strength to tell me of her plight. Moments later, I came into the bedroom, saw her lying motionless there, her eyes sunken, not breathing, whereupon I could not reconcile myself to her passing and fell on my knees, out in the living-room adjoining, before a holy image, and prayed the entire rosary. At the very end of which fervent, confident, heart-felt prayer, making the sign of the cross as I finished, I saw Joann emerge at that very moment from the bedroom and urgently asked me to make her a cup of coffee, which she had heard a voice telling her must be done, in order for her to live. (Recalling to my own mind the way Jesus in the Gospel, upon raising Talitha from the dead, bade her be given something to eat). Whereupon, refreshed, Joann revealed what she had just been through.

As soon as she had collapsed on the bed, she had seen a very bright light coming toward her rapidly, from a great distance, while simultaneously feeling life leaving her body from the extremities, gradually to the torso and then out the head. Upon which she found her soul suspended above the bed, looking down at her dead body thereupon. She felt at that instant that she "knew all things", and was being beckoned to her Heavenly home, there in that great and dazzling light: but she begged God to spare her, not to take her from me. Instantly, she was returned to her body, got up, and made me the noted request. Hence she had indeed "died", as promised, but was given an indulgent reprieve.

Immediately we began to pack, and although just before we left a man actually came out from the local mine to tell me that a job in the engineering department had come open for me, that I had applied for, we left nonetheless, with no debate at all, and began our marvelous journey: one which witnessed several plainly miraculous happenings as well. It took us through Arizona, Utah, Nevada, Idaho, Wyoming, Montana, Washington, Oregon, and California, in all of which the picture of Our Lady of Kazan—she who drove the Mongols and Napoleon out of Russia—was placed on the dash, facing ahead. On this trip we also placed many bumper-stickers saying, as I remember, "Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us". Bright banners which we affixed wherever they might be conspicuously seen, along the sides of roads. The Immaculate Heart of Mary being indeed the title under which Our Blessed Lady is venerated here in the USA in a special way.

Now, after the passage of some forty years, and many journeys, crosses and confessions-of-faith since that first of many crusading trips, we call upon the people of those same western states, which we believe Mary to have marked out as under her special favor and protection, and any others who might wish to join them, to embark upon this Crusade—the details of which can be examined throughout this site—and indeed forthwith to secede from this seditious and illegitimate, alien and perverted cabal in D.C. Having gauged God's will from the troubled skies, calculated the pitch of His fury and wrath, placed all their trust in His ever-ready assistance and protection. This plea being issued from that same West which saw so many of our crusading journeys of the past forty years.

May 9, 2013: Progress through pain paradigm. Adieu, Jodi.

There is a certain bizarre metaphysical midwifery which asserts itself everywhere in the worldview and vision of the USA, fraught with all the birth-pangs of the most perilous of motherly labors, but giving birth not to life, love, or even "the pursuit of happiness" but to a grim specter of a "progress" ever-more-demanding than before. Suggesting some phenomenological series of cosmic emanations, a veritable fiery earthly eschatology, which will only rest content when mankind is entirely consumed, and robots and biotic men roam the earth in their stead. This view of life crying out for something with which to contrast itself, which isn't in fact at all hard to find: namely, the Catholic Faith. By which I don't mean this beatification-happy sort of emotional binge, fraught with a false mysticism and the quiet accommodation of every evil under the sun, that counterfeit which thrives today in New Church Rome, that "odd structure" foreseen in terrible detail by Venerable Anne Katherine Emmerich, the nineteenth-century stigmatic (miraculous bearer of the holy wounds of Christ). Rather do I speak of that Catholicism of the ages, soon once again to rise like Christ from the grave, that creed which respects ancient traditions, which passionately loves hearth and home: not indeed to make gods of these values and realities but because they are vessels of things much deeper than themselves. That one and only true Catholicism in which pain is not some increment of an infinitude of "grim but necessary" agonies on the road to some final "beam me up, Scotty" rocket-booster-assisted exit from human life, but rather the highest testimony of unstinting love, a volitional cement which holds together and amplifies a world full of fragile—but for that all the more magnificent—human beings. Men and women whose "strength is made perfect in infirmity", who together cooperatively, pacifically, lovingly and patiently "build up the perfect man" (the Mystical Body, the sanctified human race) "in Christ Jesus Our Lord". The One True Faith finding its greatest realization within practical parameters of human life very much as they have until recently existed in villages around the globe: with technical improvements not designed to reduce labor as a categorical value all-its-own, an end in itself, but only to remove all hint of brute penury, and in Catholic lands in particular to accommodate the "holy leisure" of contemplative life. While any vision of progress which brings about the idling of labor on a massive scale—together with a majority divergence of workers into activities of a maddeningly-unsatisfying and/or morally-insupportable kind—this bizarre and apocalyptic anomaly cannot be claimed as valid fulfillment of the command in Genesis to "increase and multiply, fill the earth and subdue it". Especially when the inevitable corollary of the "subdue it" is to disobediently shrink the world's population, to scorn half the dual biblical command, to make war on any who like the Muslims take the first injunction—i.e., to multiply—fittingly and generously to heart. A guileless humanity against whom "heroic" secret-society-articulated thinning exercises are always conveniently at hand, on behalf of whose commencement plenty of lies, misrepresentations and false-flag 9/11s can readily be found.

Any departure from Catholic Faith, practical, doctrinal or some clever combination of the two, will always end up in this "progress" sinkhole, and claim superiority by way of mounting privileges for an eager and "successful" few. They who dedicate themselves entirely—indeed sell their souls—in homage to this progress-idolatry, to a prostrate worship of the Progress goddess: the only deity the modern world knows, whose towering image is indeed found in New York bay. This view which knows progressively less of the vocabulary of real human life, of the joy and self-giving of life's "teeming masses": they among whom myriad unfamiliarly dialects of love are to be found. A Brave New progress-worshipping Humanity, rather than being so wonderfully enlightened—as all this dazzle about "advancement", with loud protestations of willingness to suffer for it, would seem to hold out—being instead increasingly and ironically moved by backward impulses of sadism, of implacable vengeance and blind-sighted spleen, as seen so clearly over the past several months in this incredible Jodi Arias trial. This veritable spectator-sport of a growing new kind, these murder-trials, in this case with the defendant like a condemned gladiator down in the bloody sand, gloated over by viewers up in the stands, provoked, attacked, tormented by a skilled interrogator, forced into a posture of combative defensiveness, and then self-righteously blamed for any negative reactions she might display. Ah, then how much more rapturous the sword thrust, the coup fatal, for belching, vomiting over-stuffed crowds! For really what was before the bench, and remains there now for sentencing, is the whole string of vulnerabilities and dire propensities which marginalized, ceaselessly-warred-upon humanity carries with it wherever it goes—whether in Iraq, Afghanistan, or the Maricopa County court—and which a cushioned, war-hawk, Middle Class America only finds mildly amusing, as it goes effortless on its sanitary, automated, wired-in way. In a USA which, as it proceeds oblivious with its digitized frolic, now and again throws some one of its own numbers unceremoniously down into the amphitheater ring, as a kind of gloatingly-demanded offering for appetites of this Progress-goddess, as a sort of savory sport. Prosecutor joining a vociferously shouting and sneering thumbs-down crowd, Nancy Grace and the gang worthily at its head, grossly misinterpreting the unrenderable reality of a black-out, such as Jodi seems to have experienced, such as tortured womanhood might finally inexorably display, such as the legendary Black man somewhere in the deep South indeed exhibited, back in the 1830s or thereabouts. He who, finally humiliated beyond what human endurance can endure, provoked by some seemingly-insignificant "last straw", jumped upon on the table, grabbed up a butcher-knife, and slew those who sat around, his erstwhile persecutors, just then filling themselves to surfeit. The only equivalent all these stuffy court-room figures could pull up out of the stale obscurity of their progress-jaded minds being PTSD: that which has to do with battlefield fatigue, an entirely different subject indeed. So that thus entirely misunderstood, Jodi could be condemned as putting forth just another "laughable excuse". Ah yes, the very same thinking we use when we want to invade other lands, where correct and honest interpretation of words, events or ideas—of people in indigenous grueling circumstances—is the last thing that is actually desired. Mercy, candidness, disingenuity, "becoming as a little child" being to all these grave-faced living-room judges—upon some of whose visages you could crack rocks—only so many Gospel "stumblingblocks" which would prevent them from endorsing those brave decisions that progressively alter an entire world. A progress which knows not the pathos of life's twisted paths, which knows only guile, only how to laugh. And to "make the world safe" for this hyper-sanitary, woman-hating, love-negating, sodomy-embracing, population-reducing Progress-goddess in New York bay.

Now and again some clever defendant may indeed "fool us" with dramatic displays, but that were far better than that we should so thoroughly repudiate our humanity in this way. But there is a Judge yet more exacting and implacable, America: Who knows truly how to turn a deaf ear. Look at the sky, hear the roaring of the wind. There is a Defender of the defenseless, roused, furious. Ready then, skilled engravers, the tombstone of the Progress Goddess, chisel its name quite well. So that future peoples can recognize it for what it once was, there amid the rubble that remains.

May 4, 2013: Sawing off the limbs of the national tree and setting them at odds: the entire problem of political life today.

The tree is precisely the model from which our Frankpledge system takes its form, having a trunk from which springs forth an integrated network of branches, sub-branches and fruit-bearing twigs, of any degree of complexity: with each national tree having its own silhouette, like some native variant of beach or oak, spruce or fur, or one of some other hundred breeds, but always preserving this invariable blueprint of root to trunk to leaf. With no elite breed of "perfect trees" to dictate to other species how their limbs should lay or sway: arrow-like conifers laying down the law to stubby spreading deciduous hardwoods, digging their heels in the ground. With the origin of the sap, as might be named the will or intent, of the ruling power always directly traceable back to its source, hardly something introduced from afar, but rather from immovable roots. And the fact furthermore that this coursing life within is entirely and intrinsically for the common good—indeed the very source-of-identity of the whole towering organism—this is never the least held in doubt. While some false or foreign substance could scarcely hope to intrude itself into this flow-of-sap: that life-blood which is contributed-to, helped-on-its-way by each and every cell in the sub-bark, energetic producers instantly alarmed were a foreign substance to invade, busy conveying life toward leaves and fruits, with instant recognition of friend or foe. While were such an infiltration to take place the branch involved would immediately begin to whither and die, standing out in stark dried and yellowing testimony to the treachery involved. Indeed precisely indicating the spot where it had been introduced, by this very night-to-day contrast of burstingly-healthy leaf and limb from brittle, moribund foliage just down the line. Even as hardly acceptable would be the argument, of eager invaders, that the morbid national or arborial decline is only a "difficult phase" through which the organism must go, for the sake of a "progress" into a brave and brilliant future as yet un-glimpsed, unknown.

Hence evident the need for a system of direct and determining personal native involvement in matters-of-state, rather than one by some team of international professionals who claim in all circumstances to "know what's best". Indeed, the very "unprofessional" quality of the input of these atoms of tree-bark is testament to their ruddy authenticity, an utter unknown to articulate linguistic figures come from afar. They who for centuries now have counseled a cleaver-like division of constituencies or powers, "checking and balancing" one another after the manner of lifeless inanimate things, when any hiatus or interruption in the sub-bark is precisely what brings about death and decay: the need rather being for a teeming reciprocity, an intimately-engaged coursing flow. The people in another figure of a living political tree being the humble-but-sturdy roots, the nobility the mighty limbs, the king the trunk, all sustained by this draught of the common good, which as noted corresponds to sap of a tree. This element of commonality, plain and familiar as the very dust, being the required thing, the pith of the wood as it were: which is manifestly not at all to suggest a despotism, as vigorous consultation is the very soul of such a tree, of such an advocated Frankpledge system and party. Just as each cell in the sub-bark utters its own ruddy yeh or nay to the goodness and palatability—the common good—of the sap coursing ebullient upward through the tree. The whole being the organized embodiment of the human community under God, in a way of life planted in us by Him, in which no "benefactors" "lord it over" us, the while congratulating us on how grandly free we are. Political life, the good of the people, to whose peculiar patois they are alone incomparably versed, hardly being separable from those it motivates and organizes, nor contractable to some body of international know-it-alls. Nor can the state when seen in this good and honest way conversely be condemned, in suddenly-appearing Manichaean categoricals, as if "government" were just such a foreign, intrusive and piratical thing: a popular misconception dear to invading hoards. And if there are some fools who think that the whole glory of "liberty" or self-government is in this "brave", "macho" view—that "we can trust no person" or leader or "politician" to do us any good—well then, we must leave these fools to their own devices, their blank-faced rejection of the burden of history. Hardly can we contain these breathless figures, with their adventuresome "breaks of the game" "democracy", of virtually adored "forefathers". Claiming this alleged mortal political vulnerability to be a treasure so great that we wage wars, sacrifice our own youth, spreading this radical notion around the globe, preserving it doughtily here at home. Alas, there is demonstrably little use in attempting to sway these zealots from their brittle, suicidal course, like fanatical, hysterical Cathars at another doomed Montsegur: heroic figures indeed in a bizarre, terrible and transfixing fashion though they might be. But it does take a certain humility to live in this good, traditional and honest way, as a child of God, safe from the shrieking hoards.

Why doesn't the Catholic Church speak out about the gradual historical introduction of these deadly principles into matters of state, beginning already in the fourteenth century, accelerating at the time of the Protestant Revolt, breaking the sound-barrier during the Age of Revolution, going into orbit in the computer age? Simply because during this same extended period the Church herself was being invaded, in her ever-vulnerable human components, by those who carry with them this deadly disease, always wrapped, concealed in this heady notion of "progress", "liberty", morally-naked varieties of the rights of man. The subject of the state easily-if-erroneously ranked a sort of mere corollary to doctrine, easily shunted off into realms of philosophy, and from their to a status of "matters of opinion", and so on. And when "embarrassing" tomes of St. Thomas Aquinas are uncovered at last, laying down precisely the nature of the state in incontrovertible ways, then there are sleeve-mutterings about "great historical misunderstandings", and so on: scarcely daring to be more plain than that. Allowing to squeak by this notion that somehow liberty, all of life, is some kind of game-of-chance, that we prove our metal by throwing to the wind prudent and painstaking methods of the past, opting instead to trash proven vessels of the common good, all so we might be up to the latest thing, obsolete next week, whose much-vaunted benefits are bought at such a dear price. While finally, when all else fails, along lines of the same sort of last-ditch logic, the claim is made that church and state, morality and government, are radically separate realms. That—donning robes of sanctity at last—"in this place of testing" the state will always persecute the people of God—that that is how we win our crown. In this way summarily giving over the earth and all it holds into Satan's thrall, as if by sovereign right. Even though everything in Holy Scripture is of the opposite sense, and every treatise of theology places the state as the most formidable servant of God, in the upholding of right, the extirpation of wrong. And not as some coarse-mannered referee to see that the perverted and the just fight each other on allegedly equal ground. The Godly purpose of the state thus being surrendered without a struggle, with a whimper of cowardly denial or retreat. Good statecraft plying a laborious way, struggling to make—not "the world"—but our streets and homes safe for our children to walk and to play, to learn and to pray. A good state which doesn't produce instant or flashily-spectacular results, mocking tumultuous rustlings of the dying, yellowing leaves: flash-in-the-pan to benefit those who intrude themselves into a political organism which once reached to the sky, subverting it into a twisted, warped, desiccated shrub clinging obsequiously to the ground. Or even transforming it into a tiny mistletoe which sucks the sap from erstwhile healthy, if prudently humble, neighboring trees around: itself remaining yellow, like a vision of death to passers-by.

How do we return to a good system, a good tree, which the Savior assures us "we know by its fruits"? Most essential is that we learn once again to trust human beings, after God, rather than lifeless "principles of government" of those who have proven themselves our enemies, hiding in the thicket of ballooning, perverted court-doctrines, agnostic "constitutions" and self-serving, dictatorial bureaucracies. Returning to the law of God as the sole source of valid law: after which the rest is intuitive, and if laborious, indeed a "labor of love". Yet relatively easy—as difficult things go—to bring into being.

May 1, 2013: Man's identity as an interior throne for God.

We speak here of the mind, indeed of the biblical sword of truth which "cuts between bone and marrow", between soul and spirit. The spirit being in fact "the man", intellect and will; the soul a gamut of equipment whereby the spirit expresses itself. In the good, the spirit acts as a throne upon which God Himself sits, in the "inner chamber" over which the equipage of the soul keeps guard, within which if well-disciplined it allows no unseemly tumult before the King. While furthermore the magnificence of this inner chamber is testified, made manifest, far more amid humble material surroundings than in any great glut of earthly things, of fine cars or buildings, things which tend rather to detract from Heaven-scented glories within. With this inner throne and "He Who sits upon it" deserving our undivided homage, without competition of any group of men or array of goods. The very most magnificent of God's many thrones being by testament of saints like Teresa of Avila contained within this Interior Castle, the innermost part of the human soul: that which is indeed the title of one of her three books. While it is in this activity, this homage that we each find our true identity: that "name written (by God) upon a little white stone", known to the soul alone.

But today not only is God not thus inwardly adored but the human person himself is denied the dignity which divine worship assumes and requires, being instead compelled into prostrate service to the nameless, faceless, secular and profane group. With the individuals of which it is comprised finding their whole meaning only in relation to this vulgar conglomerate, to what others think of them, finding their azimuth entirely outside themselves, alienated from their crystalline, self-defining inner castle and throne. So that even when such people gather together in some church to pray, their worship can hardly be acceptable to that God Who dwells within, and demands the noble tribute of a sovereign heart and soul. This new and self-obliterating "humility"—"before science", before the group, before anything and everything—seeing oneself not through the soul's many tools of spiritual self-evaluation but rather, as uniformly taught by today's leaders, teachers and media-figures, primarily through the prism of other people's eyes. Ones own estimation left only for tumult, feasting, lusting, and the like: not even conceding oneself the intellectual and volitional agency which divine adoration—the most crucial, life-giving, defining function of the soul—intrinsically requires.

Manifestly, when men group themselves together in this Godless, pantheistic way you have Orwell's 1984, or Huxley's Brave New World, and the total absence of inner peace and contentment: from which follows in short and easy steps the loss of ones soul. While nations which once adopt this strange sort of group-adoration—typically calling it democracy—rush forthwith to impose it on the rest of the globe—being entirely possessed by the demons involved. Introducing by force of arms a way-of-life against which the good of any sincere creed will undyingly and with praiseworthy heroism rebel. The new collectivist religion imposing a rigid "path dependency" in socioeconomic terms as well, restricting all earthly life in fine detail to parameters materialistic, hedonistic and perverse: with technical knowledge in particular exploited to bring this about in the most murderously "efficient" way. Calling those who resist "terrorists": indeed introducing genuine bloody revolutionaries and false-flag killers when the hate-indoctrination begins to flag, while afterward self-righteously, "collaterally" killing any in whose company the justly-intrepid might on some drone-strike "target day" be found, as if these were accessories to a crime.

Have no doubt that evil is from Hell; integrity, the Golden Rule from God: not the forthright or childlike we should fear, but they who slander, the dissolute, they who "overturn the landmark", the natural law. That "he who lives by the sword, dies by the sword"; that the road to infernal perpetual war, to domestic upheaval, is to "be a bad neighbor" to an entire globe. And finally that God does not tarry forever—measure the rivers, look at the sky—oh foolish White House crowd. Devouts to a tin-horn antichrist, following in the footsteps of the very first Tamerlane, of Napoleon, of "The Iron Chancellor", Der Fuerer, and a long line of others before.

April 29, 2013: Quo Vadis, Ecclesia? A specific path to be pursued, by Russia in particular, in the reclamation of the Catholic Church, now fallen into the hands of cruel robbers.

In the genuine message of Fatima, as conveyed by the younger two little shepherd children Francisco and Jacinta—a Heavenly missive and commission seemingly betrayed or at least compromised by the eldest and long-surviving of the three seers, Lucia—there is opened out for humanity, for the Church, a way through the thicket of the modern apostasy. That which is the forerunner to that coming denial-of-Christ which will take place under Anti-Christ himself, so soon to appear. These being those "times just before the end" when however we are not to be discouraged, rather to "lift up your heads, for your redemption is at hand!" But neither is it an ordinary time for the conventional reliance upon those things that were once solidly in place, as those in New Church would have us believe who esteem themselves the picture of traditional stability. All of which bonhomie is nothing more than overbearing choreography, without a scrap of truth involved.

What then are we enjoined, taking all realities of today soberly to heart? First of all do we have not only a departure from fixed and timeless doctrine, and a running-after things bizarre and new—an eventuality of which a valid papacy would by divine decree be entirely incapable—but also an episcopacy (Catholic bishops) who since 1970 have almost universally been consecrated invalidly, due to a grossly-defective rite. This specifically with respect to a form or wording which doesn't at all convey the substance of the Sacramental powers allegedly being "confected" or conferred. This the disability which vitiated the consecration-of-bishops of the first heretical and schismatic Anglicans of new rites instituted in the mid-sixteenth century, whose subsequent attempts to pass on the Sacramental office of bishop—due to the nullity not only of that which they themselves possessed but also of the very rite-of-consecration itself which they employed—would thenceforth likewise be null and void. All this as determined by Leo XIII, after exhaustive studies of a pontifical commission appointed by him, in findings later reconfirmed by Pius XII: ex opera operando findings obviously meant to apply in all cases, whether within or without the Rome Catholic fold, with no qualifiers at all being applied. (Hence no hint of the idea in a Leo or a Pius that "as long as Rome does it, its OK": the sole naked standard-of-validity, holiness, excellence, etc., since Vatican II). And indeed a nineteenth-century Venerable Anne Katherine Emmerich speaks precisely of this coming sacramental vacuity of the post-Vatican-II Church in her prophetic writings: in words focusing on inevitable invalid masses that would inexorably follow upon a loss of episcopal powers, often quoted or paraphrased here: passages unfortunately no longer available to me for citing (publisher, page, date, and so on). In prophesies maliciously twisted, caricatured or misquoted on EWTN, private revelations whose truthful exposition is positively critical, serving indeed as highly instrumental for any clear and compelling understanding of the modern impasse in the Church. Furthermore, this defective sacramentary—with the New Ordo sacramental formulary of Mass probably, if not quite as certainly, invalid as well—has as might be expected been aggressively promoted since forty-some years ago when first instituted—with major changes demanded by the Vatican in Catholic Eastern Sacramental rites as well. So that at this late date the only validly-consecrated Catholic bishops still surviving would almost certainly and in almost every case be those of the various traditionalist groups, who broke away decades ago from an errant Rome, and did their own consecrations.

However, as reiterated frequently on this site, these various traditionalist groups have themselves, in our own experience, been universally subverted morally and doctrinally: a dire fate which, if any have escaped, it is totally unknown to us. Groups in which a certain controlling clique make it such a hateful experience to attempt admission-to or return-among parochial numbers that a certain indefinable departure from Catholic Faith is plainly and ruefully involved. These groups being rigidly controlled by axe-sharpening partisans of deadly spleen, of a character entirely foreign to Catholic Faith: with these laymen in turn, incredibly enough, being cow-towed to by clerics who hardly hesitate to attack the humble, the soundly and piously formed. The whole traditionalist movement, almost indistinguishable in this and most other ways from New Church, being in a word Judaized to the hilt, veritably beatifying the wealthy and well-placed, indeed with a mocking impunity which is a dead-giveaway to the familiar repugnant chuspah of the millennia.

Hence our solution: to place our confidence not really in these abortive attempts to revive or preserve the Faith but rather to urge Russia, in accordance with a grossly-neglected and abandoned Fatima Message and attached critically-complementary "Secret", to become "converted" to the Catholic Faith: something which, despite incomprehensible protestations of Sr. Lucy and a string of anti-popes and their supporters, Russia has with redundant clarity not yet done. Something we urge her pious and exemplary Patriarch to undertake forthwith, for Russia's sake, in her own threatening perils, as much as for the Church-Universal itself. A Russia which still retains much of her ancient piety, in spite of the gulag of the communist years: a Russia which, together indeed with much of Asia and Eastern Europe, remains resolute before vile U.S.-sponsored outrages of the sodomite crowd. A Russia having thus returned to the One True Faith, from something scarcely far removed, already having genuine and valid Sacramental bishoprics, in view of their own immemorially-valid rites-of-consecration: a revivified national Church whose newly-converted bishops in almost all cases can forthwith take full and rightful possession of their sees. As any Catholic occupants of same are almost certainly not validly consecrated, and thus incapable of ordaining priests, or otherwise exercising episcopal powers. The powers contained in "jurisdiction" becoming animated, as it were, upon full accession to the One True Faith, suggesting, under present extreme circumstances, an ipso-facto communion with the font of churchly authority, flowing in this case directly from Christ Himself, in the temporary absence of a Vicar in Rome. (Hence vivifying the validity of those sacraments, like that of Penance, which depend upon jurisdiction.) While thereafter finally, depending upon developments, as, say, among other hitherto-Orthodox national Churches, or among any Catholic-traditionalist bishops who might be rightly aroused, these new Russian bishops would join with any of these others, all alike risen like new Sauls on the road to Damascus, and elect a valid universal pope, the first in more than fifty years. Russia thereafter being commissioned and empowered by God to give moral, political and military leadership to the forces of good, today in universal mortal conflict with an institutionalized global savagery and perversity, centered in Israel and the USA, such as has never before been known.

I have no standing of my own to make these urgent requests: although I was present as a layman in Fatima, Portugal, in 1969 at the enthronement of Our Blessed Lady of Kazan: the miraculous icon of Russia which together with Our Lady of Vladimir is full of holy significance to the Russia fold, and has often led the way to national salvation before threatening armies of enemies like the Mongols, Napoleon, and others of the same kind. Myself being found providentially at this sublime event, amid the splendor of the Byzantine Rite, conducted by the kind and venerable Father Moffat of the times, during pilgrimage-related fulfillment of a promise made during a firefight in Vietnam only a year before. The ancient holy image of Kazan having been reclaimed from a British museum, to which it had been sold by the Bolsheviks some decade or more before. And although I am the classical "nobody", I do admit having had some private mystical experiences—for which sometimes the most unworthy are divinely chosen—which connect me solidly to this endeavor, starting at the very time of the noted enthronement so long ago: events whose burdensome implications I have as it were run from all these many years. More recently indeed, in a vision, finding the dead body of Christ, just taken down from the Cross, lying in my own unworthy lap, as if transferred there momentarily from that of Our Blessed Lady, myself being then mystically imbued with the understanding that the Mystical Body, the Church, thus done-to-death, betrayed and abandoned, was in my own incapable hands. That I was being enjoined, ever-so-reluctantly, to make all these statements and disclosures: as difficult as it is to do, in view of my own sinfulness, insignificance, and proven folly. Yet depending always and only on the love, the will and the power of God and the rectitude of His divine law, the sole source of all valid law, of all legitimate government.

Finally to be considered is the obvious fact that contemporary realities mentioned in 1917 by Our Blessed Lady cannot be expected a century later to be precisely the same, not to have morphed repeatedly in many ways. Her prophesies being living instruments of the divine mercy, not stiff and lifeless ones. Thus evolved being those things in particular having to do with the October Revolution just then during World War I materializing in Russia, so far from Portugal itself: a real-time Marian geopolitical prophetic disclosure testifying in its own way to the redundantly-miraculous nature of the staggering event. Thus for instance the announcement that Russia "will spread her errors" around the world plainly having over time been superceded by a Russian departure from communism in 1989: that which we here on the Crusade hold to demonstrate first phases indeed of her Fatima-predicted "conversion" from egregious state-doctrines of Bolshevik or Brezhnev times. A conversion however far from complete, as we must always take our Blessed Lady entirely at her word, namely that Russia will fully embrace the Catholic Faith. A Heavenly visitant and intercessor who hardly indulges in the quibbling and disappointingly-imprecise language such as now so characterizes a "windows thrown open" New Church Rome: in endless effeminate posturings which the virile, metal-proven Russian character is little likely to entertain. Furthermore, with respect to the intertemporal development of this phrase "Russia will spread her errors": these were at the time of the Apparitions naturally understood as being contained in communism, but if we delve into the deeper meaning of the latter term, as we exhaustively do on this site, it will be ascertained with finality that the quintessential definition of communism is as a prime chaos-producing instrument of Judaism. Marxism together with its equally enervating, order-overturning, yin/yang polar opposite, capitalism being the characteristic spawn of perennially-revolutionary Judaism. With Jews on the witness of on-the-scene U.S. Naval Intelligence sources having indeed comprised some 93% of the Bolshevik ruling congress or Commissariat when Lenin (actually a crypto-Jew named Bronsky) first took power. Hence are the "errors" of Russia mentioned by Mary to be understood most fundamentally as the unprincipled methods and diabolical principles of Judaism: solvents, corrosives which have indeed been "spread around the world" in a host of institution-warping ways since those earlier times when Our Blessed Lady appeared. Today's majority-talmudic Judaism, with little in common with that of ancient biblical times, containing within itself those abominable satanic falsehoods which Russia is now in the perfect position to counter, to crusade against, to place, in fulfillment of the prediction of Genesis, beneath the same virginal Marian feet.

April 27, 2013: Latest possible links in bombing: Kim Jung Un to gangland connections to allegedly-dope-pedaling Tsarnaevs, through the universal grapevine of the narcotics trade, giving us the much-boasted "miniaturized" "deliverable" detonation.

In this piece is presented an alternative interpretation of evidence—real, false or fanciful, who can really say, when dealing with an increasingly tyrannical USA—that piles up by the day. Herein being found major elements of the bombing plot more-or-less as initially conjectured by us the day after, and as strongly confirmed in some immerging details, like the three drug-ring murder-victims of a year or so ago, one of whom attended the Oriental martial arts center that Tamerlan also frequented. All this if true only bears out what has happened to the USA in the last fifty years, when the drug-culture has completely taken charge, elevating to the sky gutter-values like "street savvy", "hip" and "cool". The Jews perpetually use this abominable corridor-of-power, addictive drugs and their stout commercial/gangland connections and murderous behavioral codes, in their most consequential of power-bids: as with the crypto-Jewish FDR, who together with Chiang Kai Shek and his dope-peddling, all-controlling Green Gang of Shanghai, determined—by a process of all-consuming, treasonous corruption—the communist fate of China in the twentieth century. A nexus-of-families which included the Bushes, Delanos and other big names of the past two hundred years. The whole saga, of a General Stilwell frustrated at every turn, of a Japan which at the time was the only hope for an Asia sinking into the geo-finance mire, having been developed here in a "summary of ideas" hyperlink below. This the culmination of Asian strategic manipulations carried on already by Roosevelt's nineteenth century forebears, plying a centuries-old drug-trade-route which started—and still originates—in Afghanistan—with Opium now grown by descendants known for decades as the Northern Alliance. Namely that gang of thugs from which Karzai was drawn, and which the Taliban tried so heroically to drive from power, and which Bush/Obama, both also crypto-Jews, reinstated in even greater glory than before. This whole global network of drug-related gangland ties being in turn and arguably quite easily accessible to Kim Jung Un, sustainable through various Korean-national operational contacts in the USA in a host of occupations, conspicuous among which would presumably figure things like Oriental martial arts. While the possibility is not entirely negligible that Dennis Rodman, in his visit to North Korea so soon before the Boston atrocity, could have been used as a kind of currier for this plot: although he too seems to us to have been quite sincere and disingenuous. Rather, as we mentally grasp at straws, perhaps the unsuspecting athlete might have had some criminal-contact-man there among his own entourage, ferreted in somehow to do his dirty work.

Whoever is really guilty—and it is still hard for us to incriminate these two young men, whose highly-believable relatives almost unanimously speak in support of them—this sort of bloody train-of-events can be expected when we "leave things in the hands of the Jews", they who shrewdly "know all about practical affairs". This the consequence of that quintessential heresy which is the radical separation of church and state: which lost us good kings like Sts. Louis, Vladimir and Wenceslaus, and gave us in their stead a long line of madmen and profligates after the brittle pattern of Henry VIII. This separation-doctrine the fundamental Freemasonic principle which completely governs the modern world: in its peculiar, hideous, deadly, mechanical, automatonistic way, like the bony finger of a Skull-and-Bones skeleton. That which removes the moral code entirely from the functions of state, commerce, education, foreign policy, and gives these countervailing forces over into the hands of a tiny ruling cabal who care only for their own wellbeing. They who allow the citizen a tiny participation in mostly-illusory boons of the modern technocracy, only so that, drug, sex and violence-sodden, and ultimately perverted, he may be finally and irrevocably destroyed, as being a "gentile": that is to say, sub-human.

We take our refuge under the banner of the two Sacred Hearts, held unfurled by St. Joan of Arc on the cover of our first book, Integral Catholicism. We fear no numbers, nor brute force, but only the name and law of God.

April 26, 2013: Divine mercy outfits us to be holy, any other concept of which is a fraud. Article further developed.

I don't mean to mount the pulpit to give a sermon, but in view of the inescapable practical dominance of a whole new Vatican-II religion of mercy, as it might be called, and the inseparable tawdry rubric of an utter neglect of divine justice—and because these counterfeits make a pious layman's life infinitely hard—it must be reconfirmed that the most staggeringly-important mercy of God is nothing other than grace. That which in turn is defined as essentially a Heavenly desire to be good, holy, pure: a sine qua non which powers our moral conversion, which contains all other lesser mercies within itself. Grace then feeds into a comprehensive, institutionally-imbedded life of good works, while having attached to it a host of earthly gifts or blessings as well, some in the form of crosses, some as comforts, successes, gratuities large and small, tokens of the divine love. (Contrary to the peculiar self-justifying Horatio-Alger-Catholic view of life on these shores, there are precious few who fail because they "just don't want to work", and a great many who "succeed" because they are good grease-monkeys at lubricating towering egos, at grinning complacently in the presence of wrong, or when the job-site dope-bag gets passed around, and the power of the mob gets proportionally stronger, and that of law enforcement proportionally small. All the while there is hardly a pause in contented grins when gangland slayings multiply to the skies, or another mob/terrorist domestic bomb goes off). Hence without the recognition of the unparalleled primacy of this essential Heavenly desire to be good which is grace, any notion of mercy is a counterfeit, a fraud. Granted, we may indeed stumble, falter, disappoint the angels in making good on our holy desire: but it is always this divinely-planted longing after holiness which is the embodiment of divine mercy, which is indeed the entire purpose of all the attached concessions and gifts: a consuming appetite-for-good to whose inner cravings we must sooner rather than later accede, of whose inner exhortations we must never tire.

But what did John Paul II, the "Blessed", about whom there is so much enthusiastic ado in the New Faith, convey to us with respect to that divine mercy of which he made himself the undisputed anti-pontifical herald? His whole persona, as amply reflected today in those of his innumerable followers, conveyed this idea that not only does God forgets our sins "when we call upon Him" but that forthwith we can forget them too. The new if deafeningly-unspoken take on mercy inaugurated by this Polish actor with the broad smile being that little if any amendment of life is actually required, that the efficacious desire for comprehensive integrity, sexual purity, for custody of eyes and tongue—in a word, for that hard-won perfection of the Father to which we are biblically enjoined—that all this is an outdated gratuity. This John with the odd Sartrian name, come to "let us off the hook", so that "zeal for the house of God", in this new take on mercy, can hardly be said to have "eaten us up". Such fervor being held nice, optional, quaint, but after all a bit overdone: if suddenly-word-economical figures were to speak their minds. Age-yellowed leaves of the old moral handbook having been declared as much through flung-open doors and windows of Vatican II, rigors-of-old replaced by this notion that big Johannian smiles and communal bear-hugs are all anymore that's really required. That God, like some celestial version of Macy's Santa Claus, will give us a jovial nod and a wink, just before he conveniently disappears up the chimney, and leaves us to our own uniformly-jolly devices here below.

It is in this whole new pan-pagan, Jovian idea of God, going well beyond any single heresy—this jolly elf that dwells in the dark heart of faith-without-works, the prime error of the Reformers, far surpassing in importance a mostly-instrumental sola scriptura of which so much is made in New Church ranks—that is contained the inclusive heterodoxy of Vatican II. This great moral latitude that for one thing always has lots of room for another flimsy excuse for another Wall-Street-traded, barely-camouflaged aggressive war. This new take on mercy embodying the fifty-year-long and running epicurean holiday from the inner-battlefield vigilance, the watchfulness against age-old enemies of the Faith, the mortification, the salutary, ironically-joyful fear and trembling of our forefathers in Christ. As we scour the third world, rather than the local neighborhood, looking for ragged beneficiaries of impressive New Church "charities", all the while unblinking, without a break in stride, dropping baby-killing drone bombs far and wide. Very little of what our Catholic ancestors left us being disposable "out the window", or out the bomb-bay: as if a "newly discovered" mercy were some sort of holiday from ghostly preoccupations and grave obligations of traditional moral and military, political and spiritual life. For which handy purposes we must mawkishly cling to our miseries for dear life: opting for a "humility" crippled and vitiated, full of maudlin pleadings for another divine bailout, with the Johannian grin-up-the-sleeve of the assurance that Almighty God is an easy mark. Shunning the age-old "hunky", babushka-wearing rectitude, the good harvest that God seeks from us, "pressed down and running over": opting instead for a cowardly confession of impotence—and battlefield omnipotence—of one who, full of a false and craven lowliness, buries his (moral and spiritual) stewardship in the bloody sand.

April 25, 2013: The new Jericho.

Christianity and by extension the Western nations aren't supposed to act as a springboard or beachhead for Jewish values to dominate the world: indeed, nothing more perverse could be imagined, since values specifically and concretely Jewish were thunderously repudiated by the Divine Founder of Christianity Himself, Our Lord Jesus Christ, its hawking exponents driven from the Temple with a whip. He Who spoke through the prophets already in Old Testament times of the fundamental departure of the Jews from the good path: indeed, from the goodness even of the natural law, so that conditional promises made to the Hebrews by God were contemptuously withdrawn—in accord with graphic disclaimers found only a few lines further on from pledges so liberally bestowed—and the nations since those times have always compared favorably with the Jews on every moral score. Furthermore, even when it comes to the spread of genuine Christianity, because of this very moral goodness so often found among native peoples like the Flatheads, Shawnee, Pottawattamie, Pueblo, Papago and other American tribes, the Church has always built upon what is already there to the greatest applicable degree: never attempting to impose Christianity or Christian values on others, as if we could extort the message of the meek Christ: a contradiction-in-terms. Rather must the unfettered power of the Holy Ghost so accompany our missionaries, inspire our penitents, teaching-orders and solitaries, our own behavior and example, that the whole earth is taken by storm, in an overpowering avalanche of grace, of willing acceptance, of loving embrace. In a transformation which always includes the Christening of the state, the organized embodiment of the people, with the two swords, secular and ecclesiastical, according to the infallible Unam Sanctam, "both borne on behalf of Christ".

Hence when we speak of the restoration of the Catholic state here on this page it is only in view of the monumental failure of Catholics to achieve or preserve this final embodiment of the noted only-authentic apostolic end: hardly harboring any desire to impose our will by the sword. Rather wishing to expose for the shameless cowardice that it is this universal admission-of-defeat which is the pith of Vatican II, dressed up in Masonically-inspired exhortations to "throw open windows" of the Church. This fanciful demand—which hardly addresses underlying surrenders involved, in all important practical terms—this slogan-of-capitulation of legal and social, cultural and conversational high-ground of two thousand years: all this mobilized on the claim that there is some new and progressive bandwagon that outperforms the Catholic Way. We may indeed have to patiently bear the consequences of this clerical and episcopal treason, this pusillanimity which a century and more ago commonly called Pius IX, in his protracted battle with Italian Freemasonry, stubborn and backward—words spoken up the broad American-clerical sleeve as much as in the open air—but we can never accept it as the will of God. And we must know that many will burn in Hell for having conspired to bring this ignominious betrayal about.

What we have today is a religion-of-convenience, a courtesan-cult, a surrender of prerogatives of state that are the legacy of a millennia of martyrdom, articulated in a baptism of custom, statute and culture, of cinema, of dress and conversational code. For which terms-of-surrender it is required that we "discover" that we have "been too hard" on the Jews these two millennia; that all the papal decrees of condemnation and reprobation have been misled, have signified "a great misunderstanding", to quote the recent encyclical on the Jews of Benedict XVI. Here being signaled rather a great compromise with the world, with the most twisted and diabolical of worldly values, so that everyone can be contented, filled to surfeit with comforts and undisturbed consciences, with dainties and delights. Except of course for those West and Southeast Asians who stand in the way of the great Judeo-Western panzer advance, bent on making the world safe for this "gay" and smiling view.

No, we true Catholics still left after so many treasons, "a remnant, selected out of grace", will never accept this mockery. We await the word of that commander of the armies of God, "terrible as an army set in battle array": that Blessed Lady who patrolled the battlements of Jasna Gora in Poland, threw their cannonballs back at the enemy and drove them terrified away. Doing battle for the pitifully-small garrison, in her own motherly way. For which reason Poland is Catholic to this day. No, we will not be perverted by law, by custom, by media or education, "bit by bit": taking the last element in national conversion, that of law and custom, and turning it into a hangman's noose for the Faith. We will stand firm, our line is there in the sand: while Mary even now sounds trumpet around this new Jericho—hear its strident echoes in the billowy sky—"and the walls (will) come tumbling down".

April 24, 2013: More thoughts on the state.

We discuss such fundamental things here on this site because it is precisely these nuts and bolts that modern man has lost. It isn't that he is challenged by the complexities of a space-age world, or the "best of all systems": but rather that he has lost his will and mind, out there between the planets, the drug-culture, the digital ballot-box, algorithms, the morning rush and the checkout line. Having a system which in many ways really does run itself, but more like something demonically possessed, having been programmed by a tiny few. A rushing, roaring "democracy" Yanks launch so many drone-bombs to so gloriously impose.

Hence do we rather speak of humble, micro-neighborhood-sized political units, of political/military figures starting at the level of the medieval knight: who might represent a hundred families in an all-purpose chain-of-command. The whole ascending upward like a sort of flower-trellis, through various authority-levels, all the way up to the throne, straining to articulate ordinary human society in a loose-knit-organized way. That which is the classical and our own definition of the state. A polity whose liberties are expressed in constantly-hammered-out reciprocal charters, with living actors who incessantly improvise, negotiate and modify these self-governing provisions, for an ever-developing, freely-arrived-at common good. "The government" thus not a sharply-distinct group or force apart, but rather only the head of a body which, surpassing human flesh in this regard, is rational throughout: much as the whole of Christ's Body is found in each microscopic part of the Sacred Host. But it is when we attempt to extract this collective mystery from out of the body politic—to make it all simple as a see-saw or a stump—that the trouble begins: or when we concoct a system built like the inner workings of a clock, then wind it up, and expect it with humming abandon to tick away. Forthwith rather becoming a giant "advanced" and "progress-loving" culling-station, a slaughterhouse, to be rid of those who can't "fend for themselves". This nuclear self-reliance an anomaly in an organized-human context of rational men, as that which truly and realistically holds society together is in all cases personally intermediated: hardly any cause of surprise in societies of highly-personal women and men. The whole wrought most sturdy in human frailty, in a customary, variably-intimate, reverse-looped awareness of each-to-all. Is this an easy thing to do? Of course not: but it is well worth the effort, to avoid a smashingly-progressive system always in some allegedly-heroic mode, which demonstrably ends only in bankruptcy and strife, depression and death. As much as we might all doughtily sing the national anthem just before they turn the spade.

Of course, the problem is too, that there is a certain species of people—whom we might call generically sociopaths, or enemies of the state, or "enemies of mankind"—they who are represented in a major way in certain creeds, or in nationalities as permeated by such creeds. Belief-systems which would more accurately be termed as exclusive pacts. Full of those who can't possibly see life this reciprocating way—the way it actually and historically is—a "radical" transformation which would make them creatures apart from what they have hitherto been. The polity to them being a sort of milk-cow, or rather a milk-factory found most productive—for their purposes—when it is digitally automated, udders mounted with suction devices, sick cows summarily whisked away to the soap-factory down the road. A Spartan, a "progress"-dazzled enterprise indeed. While the little calves are found to be best produced through hideous mechanical means, with all the bizarre arrangements this metaphor might suggest in the human-"sexual" sphere. This then the world-view of the slave-driver or slave-merchant, the traitor or infiltrator, and so on. There is no need to get anymore specific than that, in naming population-groups of which there are some few worldwide: brilliant, "philanthropic" self-advertisers that they are, who always have a few encouraging crumbs to throw to the dogs. And it is because of the existence of these self-serving groups that the state must most imperatively be organized in the general way outlined here, with laboriously-maintained checkpoints, dedicated personal watchmen: they for whom their own private good is closely and thoroughly identified with the good of all. That which is sound and realistic statehood, rather than this wild and fantastic machine for the "efficient", the "freedom-loving" milking—and dispatching—of humanity.

Finally, part of the noted mystery of this system—of rational human parts—is that after it has been thus thoroughly, irreversibly hijacked by wicked, sociopathic men it can only be set aright again by God Himself. Insurgencies, in themselves, having no power at all. It is to Him that we must go, to Whom we must plead. While the polity here espoused likewise has its own system of messengers, or battlefield curriers, in those miraculous interventions of the same Good God, and multiple-personal inspirations toward the necessary and good. Of those biblically described, those guided by the Divine Spirit, whom others "know not where they come from or whither they go". Here then the only "intelligence service" we need: based on wisdom, love and virtue, rather than underhanded chicanery. Realizing too that even the most wicked have an inner watchman whom we can as it were bribe: who can be treacherous to the treachery itself, in which they are intently engaged. Since after a point we are all constructed to seek the good, as by the most basic of rational creaturely necessities.

Thus do we ask you humbly, peacefully, at the local level to launch this system, this Crusade: and by the grace of God its leaders, and much of its peculiar methodology, will come forth as it were naturally from out of this rational entrepot, this human whole. That which "lives not by bread alone"

April 23, 2013: Proving the good to be dangerous: the principal aim of New World Order politics, education and media indoctrination.

I have seen it everywhere since I was a boy: this drive to make out the earnest and devout, the sweet and kindly to be time-bombs packed with dangerous impulses or designs, while the flipside contention is equally insisted upon that only the careless jokester, the mocker, he who "laughs at what he loves", who "never says what he means or means what he says" is entirely safe to be around, healthy in mind and heart. This whole fantastic paradigm being put forward—contouring precisely Protestant "faith without works"—that to try too hard to be good is to put oneself "under a terrible strain", to threaten someday to go berserk. This moral-cyanide pill—the cunningly-devised nemesis of genuine, and a-fortiori Christian, moral training—allegedly thus uncovering "what is wrong" with Latin Catholicism, or that of grave-mannered Slavs. They who accordingly must be portrayed in book and film as dangerously unstable, readily-enough Rasputin-depraved, a misrepresentation cunningly choreographed by turncoat Grand-Lodge freemasons, operating with impunity there on native soil. Traitors whose whole commission is to do fiery, incriminating, nationally-humiliating deeds, such as were indeed done by PLFP terrorists a great many of whom weren't Palestinians at all, but members of an international terrorist ring with a hard core of crypto-Jews at its core. Indeed, the same frame-up-job was done to Our Blessed Lord by the very same crowd, when He spoke entirely of interior goodness and purity manifested in good deeds, showing no interest in swagger or military conquest at all. Being thus inevitably deemed dangerous, deserving of death, before a Pilate transfixed and bewildered by the logic of raving, shouting, truly unstable and fanatical men.

It is this sort of hare-brained logic that has built our drug-empire, a prison system at least twice as big as its nearest dungeon-happy rival, has made our schools and neighborhoods into danger-zones, full of people who too often despise and distrust one another, under rule of an ethic so shallow and cheap. As we meanwhile sit ensconced in high-tech privilege, globally trampling earnest-and-uncompromising humanity under our feet.

I don't know for sure whether the Tsarnaev brothers were terrorists, but I do know that the psychological and evidentiary tactics of framing people criminally is in the USA "state of the art": accoutrements of witch-hunting prosecutorial and "Homeland Security" machines that are a worthy match for the prison-system described above. Arms-of-the-state that would make the KGB or the Okarana of the Tsars look like altar boys. The case of the Tsarnaevs already "open and shut", with a randomly-shot policeman and a chaotic "shoot-out" adding classical elements seldom to be found: both of whose real nature may never see the light of day. With the "witness" of the first event, unreported, undeveloped by the slain officer himself, termed with convenient anonymity "a source"—just now when everyone is desperately searching for eye-witnesses to add substantiality to what resembles a nightmare or mirage—with circumstances of the alleged carjacking, of separate visits to two different gas-stations, being bizarre and potentially irreconcilable in the extreme. With highly-plantable bomb-making material likewise duly found, which together with par-for-the-course confessional misrepresentations and highly-pliable digital data, always the centerpiece of these "terror" cases, again decisively involved. Hence when I see young men of such fine caliber—with an older brother, now termed a "bad influence", who left school to train for the Olympics, who was so devout that he had perfect inter-gender custody of the eyes—something devout Catholics of generations past used to prize—when I see such a true man termed a terrorist, I naturally suspect the same highly-prized process-of-misrepresentation, of frame-up, of doughty leading-law-enforcement "always on its toes". Of the criminalization, the categorical vilification of the good, in calumnies seen now everyday in a thousand places, a thousand times. Some of whom may indeed take up arms, defend themselves against institutionally-promoted evil, against liars and slanderers, like the redundantly-justified Palestinians against overpowering, world-dominating Jews, with whom we are so closely in league. These Muslim "terrorists" who don't meekly tolerate their nations being turned into "devil may care", "anything goes" dens of "harmless" moral-laxity and abominable perversion, to replace good deeds of noble and pious men.

April 22, 2013: Hear the roaring of the wind, watch the rising of the flood, modern Pharaoh, and obey. The two ways: one leading to life, the other to death.

This is the primeval fork in the road which all men must face: the one sustained in peace upon the good things that are, the other ever petulantly lusting after something more. The one calmly incorporating marginal improvements, the other always "throwing the baby out with the bathwater", revamping, "updating", tearing down and rebuilding after some new and outlandish design, in hedgings of frivolous profits wasting both resources and human lives. The one view rejoicing in colloquial patois, the other only in sharp-edged legalese, or some guttural, hustling, dope-peddling lingo-of-the-street. The one, as noted in Esdras, a People of tumult, always ready to rebel, or to sacrifice some innocent life for some fevered end, granting wedlock to perverts, offsprings from out of a tube, riot and riches for a "chosen" few.

The wastrel road has many easy gains, conducts many bloody victories, but ends only in economic depression, the idling of mankind, their ultimate death-march into expendability, along downward slopes of this brave new way. It heralds a New Church which speaks incessantly of an "open window" of reconciliation with same. But look at the sky, hear the roaring of the wind, the mounting of the waves, rising on levies, pounding on coastal breaks: to this comes your damned and remorseless futurism, you goats marked for the Last Day.

April 20, 2013: Article revised on 4/21. Boston marathon and threatening upheavals.

The admissibility of highly-modifiable digital evidence in making such apocalyptic terrorist charges against two model young men is doubtful in itself: the whole procedure having been regarded with skepticism on this site in other cases of this kind, the most incriminating parts of which fifth-dimensional "proof" the common citizen is never allowed to see. With "top secret" status of all critical material having become inevitable in all such war-decisive, propaganda-critical things. Even God Himself leaving us tokens of the Resurrection, as in bidding Thomas place his fingers in the sacred wound, while Uncle Sam is said to have no such obligations, being considered an "exceptionalist" cut above in every respect. All this calling to mind a phantasmagoric "capture of Bin Laden", with highly-questionable, grainy and disgustingly-unconvincing digital-film-clips which are seldom even spoken of anymore, let alone aired. And it remains that any ethnic Muslim, seeing himself thus identified as a terrorist, would probably have fled police too, as what followed in the past in Guantanamo or elsewhere has often been revealed in terrible detail, and what the future or even present treatment of prisoners might hold is anyone's guess. While with respect to charges that the younger of the two was joking and partying ghoulishly, while blood was still fresh on his hands, for days after the event: people here first and foremost used to assume that this was a sign of innocence, and not mocking impunity. While finally even the obvious fact of the two "shoot outs" must be balanced by the consideration that a gun-battle also took place just after Dealy Plaza in Dallas in 1963: an exchange also shrouded in mystery to this very day. Even as inevitable droning charges of "conspiracy theory" cannot fairly be hurled, in view of the regularity with which false charges are brought here, in cases both high-profile and low, here in an allegedly "freedom-loving" USA.

Oh, yes, fellow-Yanks, I know we all like to have a celebration, and love a rush-of-adrenaline: but lets make sure we've got the facts straight, first.

But assuming for a moment that these charges are true, consider something just as astonishing, to wit: that only a few years back, in halcyon early days of the Bush Administration, the certifiable multiple-terrorist who a short time earlier had staged the Beslan elementary school takeover in Russia was hailed by our own Congressmen as some kind of romantic hero, granted some special sort of visa, and wined and dined in D.C. Having masterminded that mammoth atrocity which culminated in the deaths of some three hundred schoolchildren: an act which provides the purpled backdrop to the granting-of-asylum to this little Chechen family whose two sons allegedly did this thing. An act-of-barbarity which may or may not have been coordinated with North Korean designs—the Kims no strangers to Islamists—according to the hypothesis presented just below this piece. The tremendous variability of hybrid terrorist coalitions having been remarked frequently over the last tumultuous decade, being detailed at length in Yallop, David, Tracking the Jackal: the Search for Carlos, the World's Most Wanted Man. New York: Random House, 1993).

But there are other dragons at work here today too: like for instance those White Supremacists responsible for the 1995 Oklahoma City bombing, an act-of-terror whose timing was planned to both commemorate and avenge the massacre by Federal agents of civilian cult-members at the militia-like compound at Waco, TX, a couple of years before. The Murrah Building attack—although like 9/11 there is said to be significant evidence that the Government itself, or some government-protected group, was involved—having been linked to a sworn group of racist anarchists whose handiwork the same government was at such great pains to limit to the lone wolves who were finally blamed, and which the rote government narrative inevitably requires. Although there were trails a mile wide linking a host of such guerilla-patriot groups to the blast: men mostly claiming to be Christian, even though an indeterminate number (nationwide) are satanists, or members of Wicka. The most consequential elements of which groups have ideas at one-and-the-same time lofty, twisted, visceral, bursting with independently-crafted deeds-of-chaos and nihilism, wrought by bombs and guns, stockpiling massive arsenals of military equipment of a highly-sophisticated kind. (Dees, Morris and James Corcoran, Gathering Storm: America's Militia Threat. New York: HarperCollins Publishers, 1996.) The reality of these largely-White-racist militias having come to light once again recently, having mostly been kept under official and media wraps all these many years since riveting events of the early nineties. Major disclosures having finally been made after the prison-warden in Colorado was gunned down, and connections with the gargantuan Aryan Race brotherhood in Texas, a prison-based gang, were mentioned for possible involvement, to astonished listeners far and wide.

No, Americans: its too late to talk about assault-gun legislation now, after the USA has made itself the major supplier of weapons to Drug Cartels and Islamic militants worldwide, a time when armed-to-the-teeth gangs will hardly stand meekly by while they are summarily disarmed. Hardly can we expect to stem the staccato of gunfire at this late hour, especially in these days of late April, when another anniversary of the Waco conflagration (April 23, 1993) comes around. As the above book notes, there is indeed a gathering storm beginning already to break: a present-time when a fertilizer plant (the Murrah explosion used fertilizer in the mix) just now blew up in Texas, near Waco, significantly-or-not, in an event whose many casualties would have amply filled the bill of these armed domestic fanatics, who of set purpose seek maximum infliction of pain. These being the nefarious tactics of an ever-infiltrating synagogue which since the Rothschild-financed Revolutionary Era and the Red October Revolt of 1917 has never hesitated to "crack a few eggs for the cause". A synagogue to which the walls of sovereign governments and private organizations of almost any size are permeable indeed, a synagogue which with consummate cynicism puts forward Jews like Hitler to fulminate-against and sometimes even kill other Jews: all this simply so that the same skull-cap breed can keep control of all things. Can "keep the enemy close at hand". By dint of lavish funding mounting to the leadership even of those movements ("the loyal opposition") which seem to be most virulently opposed to Jews and their ideas: so as to steer them astutely, to discredit them with the dissemination of the most reckless plans, fanatical language, and violent deeds. Thus too the simplistic logic of the synagogue-dominated Tea Party: whose leadership seems to care little about those moral issues which are destroying the souls and minds of our young, who rather drone on and on about taxes, as if that were the only evil on earth. A synagogue among whose most active modern-day marrano (crypto-Jewish) agents I count men like the rabid, ever-conservative-discrediting Glen Beck on the right, and the whole gaggle of sodomy-advocates on the left. This being the age-old place we must look for bloody-handed and chaotic deeds, as before Pilate, as in the crucifixion of the little Catholic boy that triggered the (short-lived) Expulsions of Jews from Spain in 1492, as in the brutal-and-exploitive mostly-marrano-directed Spanish colonization, following close behind. To be succeeded by a later radicalization of Latin America, with the same financier-piloted, control-bent ends in mind. And as in the mercenary-spirited Native-American genocide of the American expansion west, or for that matter the whole unparalleled bloody, geo-finance-driven world history of the past several centuries.

Very simply: we cannot live and be motivated by greedy, allegedly "freedom-loving", but actually cold-blooded Jewish values and ideas, and then expect to escape the grasp of the worldwide Jewish thrall. For as Our Blessed Lord said, "where a man's heart is, there will his treasure be". But we on this Crusade do put forward a "more excellent way", which we urge you to examine in exhaustive analyses and expositions presented on this page.

April 18, 2013: North Korea undoubtedly the perpetrator of the Boston attack, to anyone who wants to open their eyes and look. Join us in breaking free from the evil "American" breed that led us into this terrible ambuscade.

It came exactly on the appointed day, after their own highly-successful marathon, an event mocked as had been their missiles, straying attempts billed by newsmen and comedians as schoolyard stunts. But in the anti-logic of New World Order theater, hard faces and flint-like cheeks allow so brave a combatant as Uncle Sam to scorn the incriminating deadly gun, with the greasy and visible fingerprints, the expended rounds lying there on the floor. Just after this "despicable" and "infamous" opponent announced "out of the blue" a "bizarre" and "irrelevant" marathon, the very day before. One in which highly-natural people raced gaily—that is to say happily, according to the true meaning of the misused word—thereby with mum and wordless Oriental mockery announcing themselves the doers of the impending deed. Which they had indeed "miniaturized" in the most "deliverable" possible way. Whatever sort of surrogate they may have enlisted from the street.

Oh, Uncle Bar-Samuel, are you really going to push the whole world around, as if you were some sort of bouncer at a global bar? Are you going to starve to death those with whom you disagree, with sanctions, blockades and quarantines, and then call them aggressors when they struggle to break free? Are you going to call their leaders madmen, while you yourself so rave, set down the law to all mankind, like the cartoon character who "takes over the world" every day? Meanwhile calling sodomy marriage, and marriage sodomy, defending everything low and depraved?

But where is all the arrogance, when real opponents call your bluff? Then, John-Kerry-brave, you must look under the couch, or out in the yard, for exhibit A, lying there on the rug. From a tiny nation with whom a few days before you would not even talk, had bombed into the stone age a half-century ago, like a half-dozen more to come. Attacking its people, its little and young, as in a decade of "no-fly-zone" nuclear dirty bombs in Iraq, and drone-bombs in the West-Asian hub.

Can you then be so blustery to China, whose name somehow you can no longer even pronounce, which stands up to you today, when blustering, barbarity and dirty tricks have paid you back in kind? Oh, universal serial-killer: women and children are just as defenseless, wherever they are found. And cowards will kill them, and call it "collateral damage", and make a dozen Hollywood movies beforehand to acquaint us with the terrible term.

Good Americans, no longer be cowed, by such a contemptible breed. Join with me, announce a good king, a good and honorable nobility. In a system based "from the bottom up", but ruled by the law and from the throne of God, as developed in detail here on this site, in this Crusade. Let us abominate perversions and quick-fixes of evil men, and realize that to be a biblical "enemy of mankind" is to be no ones friend: least of all your own.

April 16, 2013: Premonitory dreams about the meaning of Vatican II when I was a young man.

Much remarked on this site is the way that Vatican-II-era "cradle Catholics" bear the biblical "mark", as it were, of what they have become, in an air of grinning or breast-beating complicity with wrong of the "can't turn back now" antipope-beatifying crowd. Stout supporters the "odd new church, built against all the principles of design", prophesied by the stigmatist Anne Katherine Emmerich. A structure no matter how high it might momentarily tower to the dizzy heights doomed to be "pulled down again", by a (to paraphrase) "cruel race standing afar". Demolition exercises to take place just before a (now soon approaching) valid papal election under terrible circumstances, and Armageddon following close behind, to culminate in the long-predicted reigns of the Great Pope and the Great King.

Indeed, the compromised character of Vatican-II-vintage "Catholics" has been witnessed by my wife and I in every sort of setting since our marriage in '72: herself a convert from backwoods Tennessee-Methodist training, with paternal ancestors who were "circuit-rider" ministers back to pre-Civil-War times. Joann having multi-line forebears who came here well before the Revolution, in one case in the 1640s, and blood-connections to the first doctor in Kentucky, and inlaw-relations to Daniel Boone and the earliest colonial Vanderbilts as well. She being one of perhaps two lone Catholics of the Carroll County of her youth: having learned her catechism as a teenager from the Knights of Columbus by mail, obtained her precious rosary in the same way, but finding no priest to receive her in that hilly, tall-treed clime. This good soul too feeling unworthy to enter so holy a fold. A woman who nonetheless thereafter with incredible courage joined me in fighting a seemingly-endless and ultimately loosing battle—with courts, false-friends, and mud-slinging, litigious relatives—to raise our children in the solid Catholicism of all times. This during two decades of "harmless", mocking, post-council Jacobin revolution let in the "open window" of Vatican II, and in after-shocks and repercussions as bad to this very day. With the skeletal grin of Vatican II having become the new standard or measuring-stick from whose middle-class-serendipity ethic all things are judged.

Over all those years: treasure to us, gemmed with many toils and tears, driven from jobs and native towns, termed fanatics for our modesty-of-dress, called lazy, "unwilling to work", treated worse than felons by far, we were likewise held by a generality of nuns and priests to be backward fools, told by one sister from Holy Ireland to get my one-time-widowed wife's daughters out of her school, if we didn't like their school-uniform-miniskirt dress-code, or the ruling gaggle of dope-taking kids who mocked them at every turn. Here then was the open-window New Age on steroids, to be followed over decades by all the utterly unrepentant glib or wrong-headed disingenuity seen to this day, with scales of blindness of our own eyes stricken away, all illusions cruelly shattered, but Faith somehow remaining ever-more intact. Along a trail of abuses and complacently-accepted perversities encountered in a gamut from doughiest right-wing Traditionalists to rabid left-wing Modernists. A route peppered with grim-mannered Tridentine virtual pulpit-denouncers—before whom we might have been Mr. and Mrs. Luther themselves—before whose doughty judgment "good jobs", good clothing, and nice properties were the hallowed mark. These bouts of icy-handed Calvinism counterbalanced precariously by passionate New Church cross-gender "kiss-of-peace" huggers, and veritable veteran rollers-in-the-isles, if we looked in on the Novus Ordo, somehow thinking we had perhaps made a turn too far to the right. As there was planted at Vatican II, among modern people raised as Catholics—and inculcated beforehand in a two-hundred-year-long trial-run of a Black-enslaving, Indian-killing, "go-getter" John-Carroll-oriented American-church breed—a store of polar hot-house-heretical sentiments, stubbornly-insidious errors and pathological spleen. That which by the odd alchemy of easy compromise and bad will would readily translate into the post-council anything-goes hippydom which would be the universally-doted-over order of the day. Which knew no other alternative than the suffocating stuffiness of Calvinism/Jansenism, with all its bizarre fetishes, its twisted pseudo-machismo, its serial-killer-spawning take-on-life, in a "make the world safe" USA. Guaranteeing for one that most who reacted negatively to rosary-stomping antics of the immediate-"post-conciliar" years—mostly perpetrated by Marrano-Jewish infiltrators in rectories and seminaries of the times—were likely-enough doomed to go to the other extreme, to vent ("macho") woman-hating, racist or classist sentiments, with this "either-or" see-saw of polar-opposites, of an utter lack of spiritual prudence, ever to be seen. Among all of which congregations if you displayed a truly Catholic spirit, as had been dyed in the wool of my parentally-taught Croatian-Catholic soul, and learned so faithfully by my beloved wife, you were likely to be seen as some sort of enemy, to be systematically discouraged, morbidly criminalized, tidily disowned. In the course of which stampeding events of that serendipity world, feeling betrayed by the inevitable "love and forgiveness" sermon, every Sunday morn, in place of solid moral admonition which might have won us some momentary inch-to-stand-on reprieve, I must admit that I wasn't always the picture of studiously-planned-out good sense.

In token of inner treacheries an all-betraying air of the mawkish is an inseparable earmark of survivors of the old Vatican II crowd: something not near as common among younger folks who weren't in on the great betrayal of those times. I myself having been warned of what it all meant when as a young man, just barely returned from Vietnam, I had an inspired dream so prophetic that its memory still haunts my mind when now and then recalled. Although it took me at least a decade to realize the full meaning of it all. A vision in which I beheld transfixed what might have been the whole human race, and certainly the whole pseudo-Church, gathered on the very edge of a gigantic, vapor-shrouded body-of-water, on a precipice upon whose perpendicular edge were all in mortal danger poised. A promontory formed like a bowl, a sheer bluff descending through the mist perhaps as much as a mile down. This immense group, a hint of whose shoulder-to-shoulder numbers I could just barely descry straight ahead, the distant extremity of an oval human loop so far away, demanding in harsh, dictatorial tones that I leap into this lake with them: an act which I knew to signify eternal death for the soul. From which apparition I woke up panting, in a sweat. This New Church crowd of fifty years—in another such dream, within the same year or so of my first moral conversion upon my return home—seen as a little family all black, not of race but of soul—getting out of their fashionable car just in front of my parish church, where I then attended daily Mass. With this same terrible sense of eternal loss attending their impassive faces and oddly-militant gait, some deadly transformation having enveloped both they and the familiar, beloved structure just across the street.