Anyone who makes any connection at all between troubling events.
Whereas today’s “correct”, “enlightened”, “educated”, “well informed”—the ones
who are allowed to manage a store or finish a graduate program , and
increasingly even to keep any kind of marginally-good job—are those who look obediently
at what is placed directly in front of them. And couch all reactions of horror
within phrases that express incomprehension that such a thing could have
happened in such a wonderful place, under “the best system in the
world”. And otherwise nod their heads reverentially at the utter innocence of
each new—and mutually unrelated—step along the way. They must ever be
January 9: The
Believe it or not, all this was prepared when we Catholics “turned the corner”, to use another epic Boomer phrase, at Vatican II. Sure, there were other things going on in the world, but they were largely interrelated. For as any reasonable consideration amply reveals, that great Easter Island stone idol of our day, Modern Techno-Progress, at least as presently conceived, draws together by nature all the disparate strands of human life and binds them into a totalitarian whole. Hence the wonderfully freeing experience of a way of life that must be spread around the globe by military arms. Otherwise this great buzzing or humming utility trunk, if you will, would become utterly non-functional: as its mega-debt-driven day-of-reckoning must consume all the earth’s peoples and economies in its gigantic maws. Ah, for hallowed deity Progress’s sake. It doesn’t take a conspiracy theorist to see this, only a supine, own-bread-buttering follower not to. Hence in order to maintain the absolute unanimity which this bloody monolith demands, moral or religious belief had first and foremost to be brought into tow, to be incorporated into this bulging cable of institutions and infrastructures, of media doctrine, mirroring faithfully the ideology of the totalitarian state. Hence, ergo, Vatican II. Now, if this makes me a dangerous man, I confess from first to last. I need no bare lamp bulbs or “ways to make me talk”.
Nobody but a moral-monster can feel anything but gut-wrenching
horror over events of yesterday in
Do we expect to continue this incredibly-belligerent if
breathlessly-argued foreign policy and yet here in the
But as suggested above, this whole huge thing, if you would look at it in a desperately-needed critical totality-of-perspective, is really much bigger and more apocalyptic than one tragic event, and evokes in the most searing sort of way of all the bewildering consequences of Vatican II, both for the wider world and for Catholics. Of course, to those standard spokespersons and others who welcomed the radical transformations that came about—a tiny minority compared to the epic numbers who left off church attendance, or even lost their Faith—all this was “just great”. While the fact that we were left with a New Church which has basically jettisoned the poor, those in marginal circumstances of various kinds, and has become a smiling affair full of pruned and manicured neighborhoods, parishes and schools: this is thought to have been a “sad but necessary” sort of “house cleaning” exercise. Oh, it is all the old “goody two-shoes” exhibition that the good and solid Catholics of a couple of generations ago used to abhor, that which my parents and grandparents used to hold up as the prime illustration of the moral and spiritual bankruptcy of Judaism and Protestantism. The old Catholicism of the millennia—before all the noisy hoopla that debouched like a geyser from out of the cavernous moral voids of the council—used to be a grave and sober affair, whose genuine moments of laughter weren’t a lot of raucous guffaws from empty minds—a Church which would never have equated a “good family” with middle-class circumstances, which was ever on the watch for the hypocritical “evil eye” of those who “already have their reward”.
However, as Jesus assured us, “when you see all these things come to pass, rejoice, for your redemption is at hand”. It will be through the instrumentality of these somber and terrible events, unfolding really over the past two centuries and more, that the final social and political reign of Our Blessed Lord and Blessed Lady, Mary, the New Eve, will finally be firmly established. Always God brings something better out of bad things, always He has some wise and merciful providential design.
Deeper still, as we dig in the violently-disturbed soil of the past five decades—or in another analogy, when the common people, even like this young assailant, have been left without a rudder on horrifically-choppy seas of this new “good life”—we find incriminating evidence that the artfully-disguised, sugary contempt that the council represented against all that had gone before would in itself work an essentially-unbreachable hiatus with that grave, mature Catholicism of ancestors gone by. A kind of blasphemous assault upon ancient customs and usages, domestic greetings and traditional songs, working a fatal dissolution of the very “substance of things hoped for”, of Faith itself. That which comes to us clothed in the familiar garb of biblical “handed-down” particularities of the Catholic fold of each age and land—each of which, along the thorn-strewn, age-old Catholic way, has its irreplaceable part to play—or it comes to us, generally speaking, not at all. While gone thus too would be the calming effect that all these endearing popular and domestic institutions once had upon other souls far and wide. For violent deeds don’t come from out of nowhere, and neither did Christ bring us a religion in which language is blunt, utilitarian and rude, the unfortunate are summarily-if-smilingly excluded, and conveniently transmuted into “bad guys” when all else fails, and long before they actually do anything wrong. (Ah, for how many a last view of the fence or hedges, or perhaps even the closing security-doors, in front of the parish is the lingering symbol of the “fellowship” going on inside). A sort of corpus delecti, if you will, this staggering hiatus, of this contempt for the devout, musical, kindly but largely-inarticulate Catholicism of the past, introduced so deftly at that notoriously-sardonic, wildly-media-celebrated council. Where tones of the businessman would ever-so-deftly take charge, and priestly unction would come to sound more like Freudianism than the manly wisdom of the Son of God. A new and cynical feature so soon to spread everywhere in Anne Katherine Emmerich’s prophetically-seen “odd new church” of these latter times. A contempt suggested ever-so-artfully not so much in the rambling schemata, modified, added to continually, these being rough-drafts of conciliar documents ultimately to come. Schemata uncannily like three-inch-thick, abstruse Obama legislative proposed-enactments, read mostly in a cursory way if at all by the assembled bishops. A contempt-for-the-Catholic-past detectable much more clearly in highly-purposive opening statements and addresses by popes and chief ecclesiastical figures—much indeed like now-notorious presidential “signing statements” here in the USA—and most of all in media interviews of the same persons. The shadowy figures in particular of cardinals and “periti” who “ran things” at Vatican II becoming familiar evening-news-time living-room fixtures in the family home of those days, always posturing photogenically, before the daily camera, in soon-to-be-universal churchly poses of truculence, mockery and disdain, at the imposing entrance to St. Peter’s Square. Pontificating as to the intended and even then often carefully-disguised (we wouldn’t want to upset the ignorant masses) significance of veritable verbal time-bombs which these (on balance) dull bouts of sanctimony would so unobtrusively contain.
As all this labors to convey, what we speak of here is all very
subtle and illusive: as indeed are all things spiritual: the supernatural being
entirely beyond our strictly-human ken. But once we open the double doors of
the Catholic Church the least chink to compromise, to contamination, they are
quickly forced open and become floodgates of a rampaging moral, cultural and
societal decay. For God will have no “heroic” steadying of the
One very good example of the systematic undermining of Catholic Faith and teaching, actually first inaugurated well before the pontificate of Leo XIII in the late nineteenth century, has been found in the obeisance of Catholic theologians and exegetes before radical claims of scholars, alleging themselves to represent “the latest”, as for instance notably in the field of biblical interpretation. Indeed, only last night EWTN came out with another of their gems, although the dead-giveaway is always in the haste with which a subject is aired, and then quickly passed over, no doubt with a studio-signature hearty chuckle. In this little sound bite was however reflected a timidity already seen in the time of Pope Pius XII, in the 1940s, when Vatican theologians were first spinning the notion—basically if not in precise terms condemned by Pius IX in his Syllabus of Errors and other writings against the Modernist Heresy—that most of the Old Testament could be dismissed as historical documentation. This simply because of the “literary genre” in which its various books had been written so long ago. Thus was coined the idea, very hypothetical and thus not couched in the thundering language of papal infallibility, but largely or entirely in the musings of theologians rather informally nodded to by Pius himself, the idea that some of this was “sheer poetry”, had no historicity, and only a symbolic, or at best an instructional place—as a sort of mythical object-lesson—in Revelation.
This was of course the very substance of the error that had been
so thunderously condemned nearly a century earlier by Pius IX, although there
was a sufficient level of the indeterminate, the imprecise, in the older
language that allows this new departure to as it were “squeak by”. Indeed, the
later pontiff would even mutter something about “of course, we mustn’t hold any
longer to things which were proven to be incorrect”, or words to that effect,
in one of his balcony addresses or constitutory
statements—or even perhaps in a document related to this very issue (I don’t
just now recall, having read about all this many years ago)—of those later
times. Here being the pontiff whose lack of firm resolution would open the way
for the astute John XXIII, held on convincing authority to have been a
freemason, and a lengthening string of other anti-popes following in the van.
One of them indeed—the one who prayed with pagans at
Of course, eagerly-imaginative egg-heads decidedly to one side, we know by a much more dependable kind of research that ancient writings and even orally-passed-down legends, even those of primitive tribes, confirm in the most precise way various catastrophic events that were of a global significance, and that not uncommonly formed the starting-dates for various calendars once in use in various lands. Velikovsky (I don’t know if you can find his writings anymore, in this wonderfully-free new society) demonstrated this in the most brilliant way. While in fact Sodom and Gomorrah themselves were found in the last couple of years, complete with singed rocks and other signs of catastrophic conflagration; even as the finding of Noah’s Ark is arguably the most justly-celebrated event of the twentieth century.
What this hijacking of moral leadership and spirituality has done,
as represented by the hijacking of Sodom and Gomorrah—to be followed by an
utterly-new “compassionate” consideration of the vile abominations of sodomy
itself, and a Catholic priesthood struggling to get an odious contamination off
its garb, all the while the new gabby pastoral methodology contrast violently
with virile, fatherly solicitudes of centuries-gone-by—is to put in place a new
philistine leadership of sports-jocks and aggressive warriors. The sorts
of guys that people Fox News, basically identical to the boyhood set that
played sports, together with their inseparable and even-noisier hangers-on, and
sat at the back of all the classrooms when I was in high school, and disrupted
class in their low-toned, murmuring, grinning and glowering way. (Those
precincts from whence I heard my first sodomy-laced humor, when a lad, like
them, of only around sixteen). These, then, are the heroes that keep us
perpetually at heroically-pre-arranged wars—like the incredible
fabrications now a-brew over
Dear loudly vociferating politicians, clergymen and commentators: people are going to react strongly when these sorts of moral and political foundations are as it were “pulled out from under them”, from under a more-or-less basically free people. Especially when it is done is such a catastrophic, scientifically-shock-managed way. And it isn’t the fault of those who point it out that these things are so, anymore than it was the fault of the little girl who cried out, “look, the king has no clothes”.
But then, finally, there comes the coup fatal, in which the
agents of those who imposed this incredible regime of lies take up bombs and
guns and pretend to be outraged by these outrages. For to make the
defenders of the genuine state, of genuine freedom, into madmen: this is the
most eagerly sought after coup of all. Ergo, the Nazis, who managed to bury in
infamy, seemingly forever, any attempt to defend the state against the
intrigues of dual citizens mentioned above. The Nazis—together with
doctrinally-yin/yang, global pincer-strategy-indispensable Communists—whose
most direct descendant by all candid accounts is to be found in the modern
State of Israel. With her methods and philosophy bolstered and imitated so
shamelessly by the
Indeed, events even in so huge an ocean-going craft as the Bark of
Peter don’t really happen in a vacuum, and as intimated above the explosion of
technology, like a sort of typhoon, is much at play. And I will not at all
shrink from placing blame here where it belongs: namely upon those Jews
operating upon the church from outside, and those Judaizers, as they are named
in the New Testament, operating upon her from within. They who throughout the
Christian centuries, just as during the Apostolic Age, seek to undermine her
influence, to destroy by persecution from without or poison by infiltration
from within. (No doubt, the smiling figures at
It’s big sport among New Ordo Catholic
commentators at local socially-pruned parishes and on EWTN to lament “the way
that the council was misinterpreted” by wicked or over-enthused priests and
laity during its two-decade-long “immediate aftermath”. But the fact remains
that those in charge of the implementation of the council’s decrees in each nation
were appointed by the very same clique that had presided over the
much-media-celebrated gathering from first to last. While notable too, indeed
staggeringly-so, is the fact that all the robber councils of the past operated
in precisely the same way as Vatican II had. We always somehow picture the
instigators of these rouge councils as having been epic/angry nailers-of-theses to church-doors, but in fact the wolves
who typically “snatch and scatter the sheep”, and those false shepherds who let
them into the sheep-fold, generally used language that on first glance sounds
doctrinally sound. And it is only in tiny details—as in the hairsplitting
precision of a Greek which sometimes manifests itself in the difference of one syllable—
Yet further, at a high level of consequence, we have in all this marching progress the repudiation of that ancient ordering of mankind which always placed the sensitive and contemplative in positions of great influence for the guidance of society at large. No child of a heady historical moment, this meditative disposition was unfortunately destined to be displaced by this violent, inanimate, uncontainable idea of material or “scientific” progress, of success and conquest, as being the undisputed ultimately value in human life: in an epic reversal of the azimuth or orientation of human history since Christ, turning man over on his head. Indeed these two values, of conquest and contemplation, would seem to be the polar antithesis at the very heart of human life and aspirations, indisputable chief combatants in the epic battle of good and evil. The one being awash in peace and light, the other full of turmoil, violence, darkness and fear, if typically-enough presenting itself uprighteously as an “angel of light”. The one harboring compassion for the weak, encouragement for the faltering—these, “the least of these my little ones”, thus schooled in the taxing disciplines of infirmity, often found later to be persons capable of the highest heroic extremes—the other concealing an arrogance unfathomably insensitive, unable to appreciate the least profound impulse of the human heart. Nor truly-brilliant insight of the human mind. And even though this demoting of the contemplative, within the Catholic fold, would later be succeeded by a putative “renaissance” in contemplative religious life, it is likely, at least from my own experience, that these “new contemplatives” are at best the merest baffled neophytes in such a now-rare adventure, and at worst morbidly introspective: that which was always considered the bane of monastic life. Of a tradition of Catholic mysticism always essentially virile, outgoing, self-abnegating, self-forgetful: a ready inner companion too, if typically in less-formal ways, of the farmer, the field-hand, the laborer in the factory or store. An outbound sea-path albeit plied mysteriously within uncharted oceans of ones own soul: sea-lanes nonetheless amply contained in the intimacy of that spiritual “inner chamber” where one “sups with God”. Hardly nursing any inner conceits, “analyzing” inner propensities only as genuinely required, avoiding like a plague any spirituality of any “precious” or self-fondling kind.
In this kind of profoundly-undermined society, described in this piece, this sort of ruptured moral universe of the USA today, outbursts like the one experienced in Tucson are met with mere cosmetics, with symptom-treating, because no one involved has the profundity of insight needed to truly “fix” what is so desperately wrong. So that as a “safety measure” those who “make waves” of any sort are increasingly monitored, dealt with as a danger rather than a potential fountainhead of wisdom and leadership. And so that the most ignorant, shallow sorts of people decide for us what is healthy or sick, sane or deranged. The answer is always more Wall Street traded guns, cameras and imaging-devices, Drs. Oz or Phil, with the latter in particular tending, quite the contrary of a merciful God, to “crush the bruised reed, to quench the smoking flax”, stomping all over this poor homeless guy with the Bing Crosby voice, to name only one, in an endless file appearing, hat-in-hand, on his show. When what is needed is rather a rethinking of dominant outlooks and values barbaric, piratical in the extreme, destructive of human concord, prosperity and peace, ever-so-“progressive” though they might be touted to be.
Unlike the pundits, I don’t make that much distinction between rich and poor, but rather between the good will of the ordinary citizen, rich or poor, on the one hand, and the absolute power-grasping malevolence of a certain group of dual citizens and their groveling followers and associates, on the other. And I feel furthermore that the first group is open to persuasion, while the other has a remorseless, unwavering agenda to pursue: albeit amid flag-waving dramatics of the noisiest kind.
This second group, about whom I speak much on this site, who loudly populate both sides of the political debate of today, are chiefly identifiable by their advocacy of huge, inscrutable institutions. Those monstrosities in which the person interacts with overwhelming official or corporate bureaucracies: behemoths which seek, typically through the minute regulation of seemingly-trivial details, to determine things profound, utterly beyond their rightful purview. Ultimately impacting every sacred or pedestrian facet of human life. Corporations and government entities, in every case “reading from the same page”—albeit amid oratorical pretenses of conflict—becoming for all intents and purposes a bi-faceted idol to take the place of any recognizable creed. A sort of sky-darkening, bi-polar King Kong, this new institutional deity, whose stiff, exaggerated, over-kill motions mirror the input of perfectly-detached financial manipulators, working strings like puppeteers. Always claiming that these horrendous oversteps and deadly miscalculations are only much-lamented “breaks” of the “best of all systems” game. Even as chief players on either side readily exchange places with one another, going back and forth to high-paying posts at either pole. Alleged disagreements between the two, pro-government and pro-corporation, continuing the while to be louder and more vociferous the less consequential or concrete they actually are, as they greedily divide the public pie in two big hunks. These people ceaselessly rend their garments and throw dust in the air over heath care, for instance, but in either case we will end up with the same kind of menacing, bewilderingly-complex system, something completely different—of course always invoking the lumbering “progress” idol—from patient/doctor relationships of decades gone by, now in every case shelved as “backward”. Thus the most the Republicans can come up with is a continued whirlwind of “across state lines” consolidations in the health-care and health-insurance industries, as a cost-saver, while Obama no doubt foresaw all this months or years ago, and prepares himself, of course with required expressions of regret, to fall completely in line. Thus too his monumental sell-out to the banking industry, and his appointment a couple of days ago of this Wall Street regular, a Daley-machine fixture (indeed, another Daley), to be the new White House chief-of-staff. No, this is no sea change in the Administration, but only more of the same. Of a president who quite self-consciously models himself after an FDR who single-handedly established the overpowering corporate/government nexus that we have today. Neither side today, with the exception of some few of the Tea Partiers, really cares about the survival of companies and medical facilities which are family and locally owned. These one-time beloved and familiar carriers of cultural and religious values—by simple daily association, that most formidable of influences—that genuine Americans hold dear.
I make the point often on this site that it takes a certain kind of radical religious belief to motivate people to thus take control of human life. Ordinary people—even ordinary “bad guys”—have no interest in such grand plans. Rather only that very identifiable group of people who so obviously consider themselves “not like the rest of men”. They who by their millennia-long orchestration of the mere venal power of money have progressively put mankind, and not just Americans, in the heaviest of moral, intellectual and political chains. They who claim fervently to believe in the progress-mediated perfectibility of human life, and yet who lead us from one war or epidemic or economic crisis to another.
But men of goodwill, rich or poor, accept life on earth for what it is: they don’t try to make one massive assembly-line out of it, for the efficient dispensing of medical care or pills, of automobiles or food, of “security” or “freedom”. An agenda against which everything in us cries out, as an abomination, as an unnatural scam. They realize, when they give it any much thought, that human beings naturally seek those social and organizational configurations that are most natural and benign, within which they can bring cooperatively to one another the greatest amount of goods both spiritual and temporal. And that any gargantuan pipe-dreams benefit only the noted tiny elite which wishes to rake the cream off the top, to divide and rule.
I talk about all this much here, and have even instituted a new
political party for the advancement of these ideas: one whose concepts may be
put into play immediately, locally, within family and circle-of-friends. Do we
need friends among the “big boys”, to bring this power-distributive
configuration about? Why of course we do. Which is why we invoke God,
January 7, 2011: Cooking the books, the garbage-in/garbage-out of the Congressional Budget Office. The “man’s world” of radical capitalism and sodomy.
I will admit that I studied finance on my own, apart from an economics degree which didn’t actually require even one credit hour in that field. And I really don’t regret or resent that course-load omission, after my own try at the subject, arduously plying the various calculus formulae that do “time-series” or “variegate” projections, or calculate a certain yearly corporate “flow of income” from out of some investment. And then there is all the managerial accounting which as I remember has two main methods of tallying up, of charting the course for some corporate ship-at-sea. It’s all a matter of leveraging your assets with your liabilities—a sort of shifting of ballast or bilge, if you will—of being a grand financial planner, of guessing mathematically what the future will hold. That for which one principal rule applies, to wit: that you don’t want to over leverage, or get too deeply in debt. Because then you have too many action-restrictive burdens, or what they used to call assignations, on the net-worth of what you own. You “sit too low in the water” for your own good.
Actually, I myself think it is a lot of mumbo-jumbo, even on the relatively-modest corporate—as compared to U.S. Governmental—plane, since it adds cumulatively to what I consider the chief crime of modern commerce: the biblical usury, the Thomistic “making money on money”. That which is like an anti-matter cancer on an economy meant to thrive in entirely positive ways, upon sea-lanes built on honesty and personal trust, upon roads that are safe from brigands, pimps and murderers-for-hire. (As well as from street-corner punks put in the Oval Office by the Chicago Machine). The genuine economy—essentially the same whether based on the sea-shell-currencies of South Sea Islanders or the brass coins of an unshakably-solid Roman commerce—hardly needing the opulence-catering, rabidly-TV-enthused-over “intrinsic value” of gold—this market-commonweal breeding by contrast, and with wild exuberance, an unmeasured, multiplier-prolific, popularly-participated public and private wealth. But when you take the former phenomenon—of a usurious managerial accounting—to the towering level of the U.S. Government, you are talking about something so designedly and bewilderingly complex that it defies all description. A government which deals in tens of trillions, and simply “puts them on the tab”, one which speaks in tones of condemnation usually reserved for accused terrorists regarding those who refuse to raise an already stellar debt-ceiling any further. While Republican senators and congressmen revealed that what really matters are the figures the CBO puts into all these government monster-formulas, “garbage in” data which are generally manipulated at will for political reasons. While finally there are the monetary manipulations of the Treasury Department and the Fed, using the U.S. dollar, the global reserve currency, to transform circumstances in a trice, for us, the Germans and the Chinese, without needing so much as to give anyone a nod.
At stake too undoubtedly are the myriad campaign promises, and the many hefty interests to be paid off, among which are massively-subsidized armaments and sugar-beet industries, to name only two, these being the real reasons the debt ceiling goes higher and higher, and campaign finance is the sacred cow it is today. And there are even those who say that there is real extortion involved, for which the fate of the recent high-level government figure, found dead in a dumpster, might be a kind of object lesson for junior congressmen just come to town. Can they really make this massive dreadnaught return to harbor, this ship-of-state positively dedicated to the ideology of laissez faire, which is nothing other than a kind of (“buyer beware” indeed!) ring-eared piracy on the open seas? Whose Barbary-Coast apologists like Glen Beck feverishly brandish oratorical sabers at anyone who disagrees?
Again, as stated in articles below, the problem is a confusion of liberty with license to do wrong. This is the whole public debate today, indeed: in a guilty hubris gone so far as to find it criminal—with newer draconian penalties preparing by the day—to even criticize activities—and not really persons—vile, ribald, self-destructive in the extreme. The alleged “legal” basis for mounting accusations against the enemies of sodomy being the claim that some criminal deed against sodomites was provoked by the mere reading or hearing of something one of us wrote or said. Apparently, or so we gather—as by the criminal-investigatory manner of many we meet out on the road, while on Crusade—even if it was written or spoken in an entirely reasonable and civilized way.
But please consider that in its final consequences this is to
condemn those who criticize murder or rape, as those in law enforcement who
have dealt with sodomites know so well, so that what we realize finally to be
the ultimate significance of this sea change in legal doctrine is the
complete reversal of morality in all regards. It is the “turning on its head”
of two thousand years of Christian belief, the passionate embrace of all the
bestial excesses of sodomy, and ultimately of bestiality itself and other
unspeakable abominations as well. Oh
But the same sort of unreasonable, diabolical condemnation is likewise reserved for those who would condemn capitalism—or an economy based on the unleashed power of speculative money, as the root word capital indeed implies—for what it truly is, we who are often regarded in the most transparent way as veritable traitors, or at least as weaklings looking for a free ride. (Ah, this is where great champions of liberty like Judge Napolitano and Ron and Rand Paul show their true colors: since to leave the citizen abandoned on such a Robber Baron high seas is to irreversibly—if in a deliciously-indirect way—effect all those personal chattel enslavements, those Bill of Rights violations, they pretend to condemn so vociferously). Even as it isn’t by any stretch socialism that we suggest as an alternative: capitalism and socialism alike having close-kin collectivist or quasi-collectivist roots in ideologies of geo-financial kingpins who effectively rule nations as if they were mere pawns on a board. While with respect to morality, it is as if we of the Anti-sodomy Crusade would harbor or encourage hatred for that unfortunate young lad who killed himself, having been harassed at some Ivy League school, being ultimately “filmed in the act”. Nay rather, it is these sorts of things we seek to prevent; it is these young men and women—so often of that unimpressive outward appearance which draws cruel scorn, which propels them into the satanic, sadism-driven dominion/submission roles of the hellish sodomite world—people who however historically have profound treasures within themselves, bred on that very suffering which unfettered unkindness breeds. Men and women who, when the time comes to make their societal contribution, typically put their erstwhile mockers to deepest shame. It is this whole bewildering, occult, preternatural phenomenon—which breeds on bad companionship, which demands that we guard our minds, hearts and souls from the foul breath of the fiend—it is this genuine bullying that those opposed to sodomy wish to damn to the ignominy where it rightly belongs.
But in fact these new legal sodomy-apologists don’t just want compassion for the sodomite: they want the foul, health-destructive activity itself to be completely accepted, indeed to replace Christian institutions and habits virtuous, orderly, constructive, “of a good odor of salvation” for the soul of man.
Only Christ, and ultimately only Catholic Faith and civil
institutions, can lead us out of this terrible ambush into which we here in the
Me and my wife have met these young people just now entering the thralls of sodomy, and there is little of any belligerent radicalism in them, such as we meet in those true, inveterate perverts who are Boomer age, or a little younger, and who do all sorts of pranks out there, in encounters on the road. Indeed, you can speak to these young people, some of whom wear expressions almost angelic, in a kind of disingenuous innocence/ignorance, young people who have been pressured by their elders into accepting a characterization or rote brutally unkind, unfair, degrading in the extreme. Some of whom actually express heartfelt regret that they were being systematically denied traditional blessings of home-life, of real family, of heterosexual marriage, and all the sweet attachments, and proofs of innocent devotion, it implies. These are people you can speak to of honor, and they are ready to hear. But let them stay in that terrible, unconscionable condition—against which their own consciences mutely cry out—and in a decade they will be coarse, cynical, unrecognizable for the fine persons they still in a sense are, or at least have the potential to be.
However and unfortunately people seldom seem able to “pull themselves up by their own bootstraps” from out of the dire ditch of sodomy: they desperately need a society, or at least a neighborhood, family or circle-of-friends, around them that actually knows what a real man or a real woman is. That these are neither bullies nor seductresses, but good, kindly, decent, “without guile”: those whose hearts are the true harbors of genuine romance, the begetters of children, the founders of nations and towns. And then indeed, these good and solid things once announced, there is no such thing as “un-curable”, let alone the unspeakably-evil and perverse assertion, “by nature”, for this deadly sodomy malaise. For as the Early Fathers of the Church maintained (see a sixth-century John Cassian’s Conferences, and many other ancient and early-medieval Church writings as well): the overcoming of some sin, the biblically-prescribed “rooting up and tearing down”, after which is carried forth the likewise-biblical “building and planting”—of habits wholesome and good, in the place of the bad—this makes the ground—of a soul once polluted—substantially immune to the moral wrong that once held it in thrall; stronger at that one point indeed than anywhere else at all. And there was never any exception admitted: probably least of all any exception with respect to sodomy. Which, if we cannot escape, if we must live thus filthy and degraded, then where is there any hope at all? Who then indeed will deliver us “from the body” of such a miserable “death”?
What is needed is a healthy and hopeful consciousness which sanely puts all bizarre memories and associations out-of-mind for good, “in the outer darkness” where they belong, in those regions “where there is the weeping and the gnashing of teeth”, an ebullient worldview which simply scorns them if they would reappear in the pacific, joyful and hallowed temple of the biblical “inner room”. Rejecting this morbidity, inherited from Puritan ancestors of yore, which sees certain random thoughts or feelings as fraught with some sort of indelible significance. In a human mind which both of our great Sts. Therese, separated by three centuries in time—the more recent of whom never committed a single deliberate sin of any kind—aptly and inimitably described as prone toward becoming a sort of madman, there in its own unseen precincts, especially-but-not-exclusively in those occasional unavoidable moments when not constructively occupied. While any lack of such a salubrious sense of humor, one indeed found in most places on the globe, and universally among soundly-instructed Catholics, is doomed to produce the domestic tyrants, aggressive warriors and BTKs we have about our ears in such number today. People notoriously bent on “proving something”—an obsession whose pith is to be found in monumental claims of “American exceptionalism”—to a whole globe—but mostly to themselves, to an inner man who harbors the weirdest of school, media and doctrinally inculcated misgivings about himself. Here, alas, too, culminates in a miserable—and utterly unnecessary—whimper all the false doctrine, the predestination, the “born again” conditions, etc. As these people stalk the earth in search of some way to convince themselves that it is all so thunderously so, even as inwardly they harbor dark polar apprehensions that go far beyond what sanity—and good doctrine—and good humor—would more humbly entertain.
Can we accept such a hopeless Christianity? Hardly do we do so foul and thankless a thing. Hence it goes without saying that we reject with contempt the Freudian fantasy—Sigmund himself having been a classical wall-eyed multiple-psychotic—that some weird, random, hell-inspired thought or impulse brands us with infamy as having “a tendency”. For the human imagination, the victim of Original Sin—especially in the filthy media/school/workplace cesspools of today—can act like a veritable lunatic, far more readily indeed than in the days of the two Saint Thereses, up there in the cranial cavity. Or, more accurately or positively, the mind and imagination take many phantasms or images-of-life and contrast and compare them. (“That’s what its there for, stupid”, as modern tongue-in-cheek vernacular might say). In a sifting process meant, with the aid of an upright will, to net charity, purity, goodness, and to discard—as from out of the Gospel net—those mental fishes poisonous or unpalatable to humankind. And although we take reasonable care to see that we don’t get too riveted on this inner “dragnet” or “line up”, yet on the other hand it is the mind which remains undisturbed by the ribald circus of today which should cause us concern, as being perhaps silently poisoned in the most fatal sort of way.
But where do the two subjects of this article—capitalism, or an
economy based on usury, as the very name innately implies, and sodomy—meet? In
the bloody arena of values good and bad, where cruelty confronts mercy, true
wealth and peace. It is the whole present-day, utterly-un-American
merciless take-on-life which finds the
You know what I mean. All this ”the American people gave us our wake-up call” is the sort of phrase you can expect to hear every day over the coming month or so at least. It will join the bulging closet full of other such Boomer epigrams, jostling for position next to such indispensable treasures as “what you have to understand is…is”, and of course the shoulder-shrugging “at the end of the day”, and so on. These guys and gals have got to make a real scene over everything, to demonstrate in the most dramatic possible way that “the American people have finally won out”. How came about all this heart-on-the-sleeve humility from some of the most powerful, not to say wealthy and arrogant, people on the globe? It’s all wind and window dressing, after which, to quote Capone in the Untouchables, with the inevitable background laughter of his hefty entourage: “life goes on”. For just as has been the case since the drug mobs steadily took over “out there on the street” and on the job, since the Kennedy assassinations, since the sloppy gangster-talk began to dominate diction, with an upper-level variety for “around the water cooler”, political speech has become a con-man act, and little more. And just like the mobsters are so good at doing, they mock the voters or other suppliants by claiming a willingness to do what is desired in the most graphic or clutching of terms.
Of course, here is ignored that 800 pound gorilla in the room, namely the fact that the voting machines can give us any results the big boys on the Hill and in the White House want—while forthcoming as well is a big “trust me” to honesties of mostly-liberal-opinioned electronics technicians as well—so that the dodging of a Republican sweep of the Senate too could likewise easily have been engineered by a carefully concatenation of misrepresentative polls and outright fraud. But we constituents supposedly don’t sweat such “small stuff” anymore.
But “at the end of the day” Pilosi will
flash her iron grin as a symbol of the Marxian march through the
institutions of a new sodomite/aggressive-warrior
No, to our White House and Congressional leadership we are only a vulgar mob to be patronized and placated with slogans that assure us that “our voices are being heard”, after the manner of the hideous ironies that have come to characterize ordinary speech here, thanks to the sorts of goons that have ruled from jobsite to White House for decades now. In that unfixable sort of national existence in which, in the worst kept secret on earth, one of the main ways to assure oneself a job is to get on the dope peddling/buying gravy train, and to slavishly observe the “code”, of language, behavior and level-of-performance, that the above-noted “don’t worry, pop: we won’t come back” so laughingly implies. That’s why the economy isn’t going anywhere anytime soon: because the much-mocked “good guys”—the enthused, the imaginative, the real producers—qualities which always demand a virtuous life—“get washed away in the wind and the rain”, under the shoes of these faggots and tough guys who rule the day, and who no doubt still “land that job”. This kind of “your voices are being heard” actually means that the big boys will listen politely to our shouts and screams while they drive the bus-of-state into the ditch again, yet more catastrophically, to a no-doubt loudly-lamented national demise.
Granted, I know there is a disconnect here, that around the time Reagan came into office all the boomer “success stories” who opted to be “good boys” after the historically-unprecedented new correctness-standard—of a foul-mouthed, cynical barbarity totally divorced from the moral law—who with model docility smoked their dope, adopted the mocking Robert Dinero hit-man or pusher lingo, and so on—whether on the jobsite or around the water-cooler—that they were one fine day informed that they had “passed all tests with flying colors”. And could now get a haircut and a shave, and still stay employed. And indeed act stuffier than grandpa ever thought about doing. And it coincided nicely, too, with that time-of-life in which, wild-oats thus sown—if with an uncanny new “sense of duty”—the title “solid citizen” becomes more important than anything else. A time when hot broth might likewise begin to rival passion on a list of personal priorities. A time too when all we struggling parents with kids underfoot, who had spent a decade or more under the social and occupational onus that good language and behavior entailed, roughly from 1970 to around 1982, were suddenly shouldered with the further burden of being looked at with suspicion—by all the new stuffies—as trying to invade their sacred territory. For, obviously to these managerial level worthies, we weren’t “of their caliber”, having neither large wardrobe, McMansion nor new car, and had better stop “putting on”, and start speaking and acting like the slobs that we were, if we wanted any consideration at all. Hence there really was a “sea change” away from the gallingly-slick or tough-guy antics, and with the rise of younger age-groups, who had no clue about elder hypocrisies involved, a whole new ethic was born. Many younger people coming up from the ‘80s onward actually took this virtuous Elliot Ness guy from the movie quite seriously, so that even though these “youngsters”, ranging now in age from around 40 back to under 20, might indeed still “do dope” or worse, yet it isn’t at all with the lusty bravado of Boomers gone by. Lacking as these new folks do any heady sense of “selling their birthright for a mess of pottage”, which, much like a close-cousin apostasy, always imparts a radically-unique take on life. These younger folk that I indeed look to, to lead this country back out of the roadside ditch into which Boomer elders drove the bus with such abandon decades ago.
But the dead-giveaway to all this Boomer hypocrisy is to be found in those co-generationists never quite made it, who got “hung up” and over-did-it on the dope, who “did time”, who had to be more-or-less adopted by the mob as full-time pushers and doers-of-violent-chores to even survive. So poorly had they developed any much-touted new “job-skills” at all, even those of being smug, stuffy or obsequious. Enter, then, the fifty-to-sixty-plus year old guys whom you will find around your ears in some precincts, whom you still see and hear around places of public resort, doing unruly things, like twelve-year-old boys. Guys and occasional gals—generally speaking so different from young folks coming up—who might indeed have finagled a “nice” disability for themselves, allowing them effortlessly to wreak non-stop havoc in some motel, where they live alone, or on some street-corner, or in some bar. Since women for them, while they themselves still had some charm, were only something to use and discard. These Boomers, in either event—water-cooler success-stories or no—whose dwindling survival rate precisely models a much-remarked but little-understood radical drop in crime.
But we have “a more excellent way” here on these pages and in these publications: one in which goodness is rewarded, and easily trumps “success”, and politics is a labor of love, not an exercise in stirring sloganry.
I tried, in yesterday’s version of this article, to exonerate Uncle Sam, to blame a proxy who had betrayed the elder relative’s trust: but I had to remove that characterization. Since manifestly after a point the one who consistently drives the “getaway car” in the old film noir movie is just as guilty as the one who works the trigger on the Thompson. Uncle Sam—that nattily-dressed top-hat-wearing Calvinist who would make the whole world one big exhibition hall for world Jewry’s laissez faire props and wares—and for the social and mental sicknesses that inevitably ensue—must be blamed, just as He is presently indeed being punished by God Himself, again and again, in renewed trips to the woodshed. An Uncle Sam whose status as “the world’s only superpower” doesn’t any longer require a high placement in math, language, science or any other tests, where a global position of 45th or 50th will do nicely enough. As these sorts of breathless reports come in like snowflakes in a snowstorm, about naughty boys in the world neighborhood, whereupon it is incumbent upon us all to become even more convinced than before of the righteousness of our 10-year-long, shoulder to shoulder “war on terror”. But what is needed to infuse new life into this dead horse is the perception of some new domestic threat: for this sine qua non of American foreign policy, anti-terrorism, must not be allowed to grow stale, to die on the vine: for lacking the breathless convincer of fear, what would so able a nation have left? Oh, all the attempts to provoke the mentally unstable to carry a load of amateur explosives into Time Square, or somewhere, have proved on the balance too much of an embarrassment. What we need is another enemy after the epic character of a new Saddam Hussein. The much-counted-upon Yankee sense of mission being ever-ready to broker a soul-stirring absolute trust in the con-men, crooks and perverts who led us all into this genuinely home-grown black-ops defilade all along. This utter destruction of innocents in Iraq—without even bothering to maintain hospitals or water supplies, as is incumbent upon any combatant, let alone an unprovoked aggressor, by immemorial natural and international law—this rank barbarity which gave birth to today’s Shiite-dominated puppet-regime which condones the slaughter of Christians whom Saddam welcomed affectionately among the Muslim throngs. Preceding as all such treacheries must from the highest levels of the state, from Uncle Sam’s own mansion on the hill. Thus do we remain blissfully blind to the way in which dozens of these “jihadist” groups are fronted and invented by our own people: oh, that would be a black and disloyal thought to even entertain. For here seems to be the one and only domestic offense: to understand cause and effect, like the little girl in the story, to frankly acknowledge that “the king has no clothes”. Hastily thrown-together groups whether to blow up people, to peddle drugs, to do beheadings, or just to make such rabid, frightful statements as alleged in this report. A phenomenon uncovered numerous times across this decade past, this radical-group-commissioning, and remarked upon by locals involved in tones more bewildered and terrified even than that of we folks here at home. These highly-revealing testimonies being found especially in those venues where people actually tell the truth, however unpopular, unspectacular or un-photogenic that might be. Like for instance in the Asian, and especially the Muslim, media.
Providing tiringly-familiar parallels to this sort of demonizing is the way the immemorial spoiled kid in the neighborhood, the bully on the block, once he is retaliated against by some one of “his inferiors”, finds the most tear-jerking pity from ever-doting parents, who punish this fearless “ruffian”, perhaps in extreme cases even by calling in the law. A recourse which might even end by sending the miscreant to the juvenile home. Although that’s where the comparison breaks down, since this bully really has no attackers, but is rather so craven as to wound himself so that his prominence in the neighborhood will be assured.
Granted, at first the penalty for ragamuffins who dared to
resist was limited by sheer necessity to the occasional coup d’etat or
“heroic” sending-in of the Marines, with the inevitable excuse being an alleged
“corruption” in the “regime” of some “strongman”. But now things have gone way
beyond that naïve stage, so that with the astronomical development of
technology some people who resist all this arm-twisting—coercions of course
“all for their own good”—can expect to be ballooned into highly bombable and invadable
prominence through intricate intrigues of the U.S. national security crew.
Hence there is no need to coax anyone anymore: unless to avoid nasty, tell-tale
appearances of haste, in “negotiations” that are mere one-sided, Tel-Aviv-style
rantings against a ruffian who “refuses to get along with his neighbors”. That
tired old war-preparatory factotum which supplies when all else fails.
So that with supreme economy-of-effort—how much does it really cost Hillary
thus to rave?—we can be both attacker and attackee.
For “evidence”, besides being hidden under a host of (trust the reigning
pervert) top-secret wrappers, from
We great global saviors readily get involved, invited or no,
wherever there is a genuine popular groundswell concerned only with
intimately-local events on the ground, and by noted routes supplant them with
stooges of our own. Or allow the indigenous vacuum to be filled by people so
feckless or deranged that they are liable to say anything at all. While the
Israelis must take the cake for creating and arming some sort of local
“heroes”, winding up their mainspring to rant—in scratchy tones, perhaps to
their own demise—about jihad, and so on. This sort of synagogue-signature end
justifies the means—of the noted gamut of “missions”—being plainly-enough
behind the above-noted report concerning Somalia: where the mild, moderate
Islam Courts government of a few years back finally brought some semblance of
order, coalescing in a natural way out of the ten-year-long chaos we and our
(majority Jewish and fanatical-Christian) Ethiopian allies left behind in that
stricken land. (A rampant
This story is as old as mankind, akin in a way to communist
Partisans in World War II era
January 2, 2011: Hey, sodomites and “heroic” sodomy defenders: you wash dishes in the kitchen sink, not in the commode.
Does it mean that I “hate” you by saying these things? Does the health department official hate you when he cautions against neat ideas about washing dishes in the commode?
December 28, 2010: Beck, bad oratory and the Manichaeans.
What we are describing here, in this Beckian lockstep/hysteria, in all this deification of a “winner takes all” capitalist system, is a false and deadly mysticism, under the broader umbrella of a Manichaean dualism—a condemnation of human frailty, of the frail flesh as evil and the allegedly-indomitable spirit as good—with an intertemporal connection to Nazis themselves anti-matter, ritual-obsessed Albigensians to the core. Not coincidentally, this is the genie that came out of Vatican II as well, that anti-council which, by way of the most circuitous indirection, provided the revulsive of a libertine license: that which always provokes the ultimately-intended polar reaction of rigorist sanctimony and ire. The “council to end all councils”, as I call it, having achieved all this after the manner of robber councils of the Nicene era, always under the cover of conveniently imprecise words. That mostly-empty diction in which the sheep no longer “recognize the voice of the Shepherd”, the ring of His firm resolve, nor feel the welcome prodding of His stout and ably-wielded staff.
This constantly reappearing evil, of anti-matter, Gnostic, Manichaean dualism makes possible the highly-convenient and ever-eloquent compartmentalizing of life into completely separate spheres, of spirituality, on the one hand, and the everyday domestic and sociopolitical concerns of practical life, on the other. Thus Beck’s repeated rejoinder, to paraphrase “I’m not worried about all that morality stuff, ‘cause the country’s going down the hole.”, as if the one had nothing whatever to do with the other. While in the Church this contagion is ready with supreme neatness, a signature “virtue” of Gnostic times—in an utterly-unique, indeed “exceptionalist” U.S. Catholicism historically chafing to take its place beside merchant-class Franklins and plantation-class Jeffersons—to divide dioceses into parishes rich and poor. Indeed tending ultimately to herd the poor completely out of the Church, into the waiting arms of low-brow Evangelical far and wide, where they are thought fittingly and with sugary condescension to belong, in a veritable ghettoization of the most razor-sharp kind. The founding bifurcation—of license/rigorism—having been “put on steroids” in a much-celebrated post-Vatican II St.-Peter’s-Square glorification of an already-Holy-Office-proscribed (in the early twentieth century) Pentecostalism, slyly renamed “Charismatic” in its neo-Catholic version. This veritable spiritism to provide a starkly-contrasting background of (séance-like) hand-holdings and hugs, moans and tears for an ecclesiastical policy of laissez faire regarding moral issues in public or occupational realms. This immemorially spiritual-director-execrated “precious” sort of Catholicism nonetheless allowing an occasional overflow-of-eloquence into so lowly and pedestrian a topic as abortion, or less commonly, clerical celibacy. Here then being prepared the Catholic-faithful slide into the deepest pits of aggressive-warfare-indulgent, Caesaro-papist state-worship—that investment-procuring sine qua non which the money-lender always requires—such as we languish under now: albeit amid thunderous acclamations of doctrinal orthodoxy, and signature-smiling praises of God. The pro-life movement having become a grand marathon of media promoters and motivational psychologists in spite of which—despite all the hideous pictures of aborted fetuses, which only cause a state-of-shock, and then a hardening-of-heart—as if Hollywood’s ceaseless portraying of murder would somehow decrease the homicide rate—abortion itself however continues to wildly thrive, in its many forms. Including the (always fertilized-egg abortion-producing) “birth control” pill: the very battle-cry of the ever-independent “American church”.
Always this is the central struggle: this denial of the sanctity of human life, ultimately attacked by its weaker side, the physical sphere. That error which finds a yet-deeper antecedent in Arian exaggerations of the paternity of God the Father, in a hatred of the Second Person of the Blessed Trinity Whom satan would appear to have desired to displace, having found this Word or Image of the Father to be much too humble for His own toweringly-grand designs: so much so as to have taken human flesh. Here being no doubt the fundamental satanic reason for the Hellish hatred of humankind.
Even St. Thomas Aquinas himself would seem to have been profoundly
affected by these Manichaeans against whom he expended the titanic intellectual
labors of his rather short but exhaustive years, having for one thing,
wittingly or not, founded the “Dominican school” regarding the thorny question
This undercurrent of Manichaean “purism” was of course an utter
unknown in the first Christian centuries, an ebullient time which knew nothing
of rigorism except of the Epistle-notorious “Judaizing”
variety, itself seemingly roundly repudiated at every turn. This Eastern error
thus first invaded the Church just after the late-ancient arrival on the world
scene of Mani of Persia, the founder of the
anti-matter dualist quasi-Christian sect of that name. Although we must suspect
another Jewish brokerage here, as in the case of an also-rigorist Islam roughly
three centuries later, arising in the same West Asia, a primitive
edge-of-the-sword Islam which originally knew of no Mohammed—himself supposedly
a merchant—until some sixty-six years after the alleged flight of Mecca to Medina.
An Islam which by then had fallen decidedly under the sway of Jews once again
It’s interesting that the debate between the Dominicans and the Jesuits—who held no such rigorous ideas—came to a crescendo during an early-modern era—I think it was in the mid-1700s—when the Church itself was increasingly under siege by ever-invasive forces of Calvinism, Jewry and Freemasonry. The Flock at this time having been gravely effected by a flesh-hating, quasi-Calvinist Jansenism, an erroneous “Catholic” system, thriving furiously for a full two centuries or more, in which the heresy of full-blown predestination was more-or-less wordlessly enshrined. Even as the upshot of this debate would terminate in a papal prohibition of any mutual name-calling or condemnation between these two embattled theological sides.
However, this kind of theology-of-the-soul flies in the face of a Catholic spirituality, in private revelations to souls—and especially in the long-developing Sacred Heart devotion, begun among the Carthusians in the thirteenth century—one which plainly sees the soul as capable of going either way throughout its earthly career. Indeed, in the words of Jesus to Sr. Josepha, until the very last second or breath of life. For manifestly, and as revealed to this humble seer, it is this very universal-human capacity for spiritual things which elicits the worst torments of Hell, as in memories of earthly moments of devotion or spiritual joy. Saints providing us a centuries-long string of colloquies which forcefully enshrine the principle that we are all of precisely the same condition, of mortal peril/opportunity, throughout our earthly years. Excepting alone a Gospel “unforgivable sin” which is the sovereign choice of the soul, resulting in a complete, personally-embraced cessation of grace. While leaving aside this extreme exception, the malleable quality of the soul til the very end is found in a striking way in Jesus’ warning to the humble Spanish sister of Les Feuillants in France, just before her death, that if she didn’t prove docile to a certain path that she too would end up in Hell. Surely, this was no empty threat, to someone already “formed” to go to Heaven. While the same standard—of a rigid non-pre-determination of any sort, however vague or indistinct, however much labored human words or thoughts might struggle to supply—must be applied to all these mysteries Pauline phrases. A saint who is constantly dwelling on the razor-sharp edge of the paradoxes and ironies of grace, salvation-history, divine life, providing us a veritable fountainhead of one-sentence parables, bursting with profundities. Phrases for us to, Mary-like, “turn over in our hearts”.
Hence, in order to understand the mystery-fraught heavenly words, we mustn’t “rush in where angels fear to tread”, and we must observe the also-Pauline injunction to use the two-edge sword of the Faith to “cut between marrow and bone”. God is indeed absolute sovereign of salvation as of all else, but we have one sole liberty in this regard. Namely, we can resist grace. That failure which is close-kin to sin itself, that for which, as saints assure us, we can “alone take personal credit”. Even the least murmuring of “yes” being entirely beyond our power, anticipated only in a refraining from a repeated “no”: after which the wings of God infallibly bear us up positively aloft, in a thunderous affirmation of grace which is itself grace-inspired from first to last. A free gift of that God Who “provides both my prayer and His blessing”. As here we deal with things divine, far above mere human power. After which noted refusal, by contrast, as this “saying no” becomes hardened into an obdurate habit, God then applies the penalty of blinding our eyes and of hardening our hearts. Simply by refusing us, from His end, that grace we have already resisted so long, which alone can supply that ultimate active suppleness of a condign correspondence with grace, a sort of dove-like Heavenly mating in the sky, to use the inimitable mystical phrase. That which can alone provision us with “ears that hear and eyes that see”. In this, then, is the eternal Potter “forming” the vessel of our souls for its ultimate function, one so foul, in the negative case, that one can ultimately become “like a mere beast”, as Jesus assures Sr. Josefa. Indeed veritably baking this vessel—with blast of his love, in either case good or bad, but with utterly divergent effect—as time goes on. A process out of which we may opt at any time, pliably allowing the reforming of the vessel, as it were: although this change-of-heart, in either direction, becomes less and less likely as time goes on. This, at least, being my understanding of the true doctrine, with which I am much at peace.
At this notional nexus, of a “chosen one” pride and an abysmal despair, is the root of the Beckian/Fox-Network/Obama foray into the black and white, the modern-day cruise-missile-arbitrated mysticism of might. For Manichaeanism and Jewish secular-messianism will always have some towering, flesh-despising superman for us to follow, such as even Jesus’ followers first sought to make of He Himself. A despotic kingship such as the Israelites demanded in their cry of “we will have a king over us, such as the gentiles have”. (Hardly the medieval distributive/organic servant of the people, like my own patron, St. Louis of France). The frail necessities and mutual-dependencies of humanity will always be despised by denizens of such a stark world: this in far contrast to a good Jesus, incarnate Wisdom, Whose “delight is to be among the sons of men”. Not as a conquering Hoplite, blasphemous thought, but lingering engagedly among our songs and wedding-feasts, our harvest and daily toils, come to minister to our sicknesses, bereavements and fears. Bearing to us a manhood gentle and meek, but all the more manly for that. As when the chips are down, in that Croatian proverb, “in the time of trouble, then will the hero be known”. Those true men who otherwise are kind and affectionate, if at the same time unselfconsciously noble and circumspect.
It is indeed here that the ultimate penalty is applied, and the richest of rewards bestowed, already here on earth. Here being achieved that true manhood or womanhood of which, like the companionship of the best of friends, one never tires, or to paraphrase the Old Testament line, “one may drink to the full” like a well-aged wine. Here indeed is found the above-noted “not saying no”, which doesn’t resist the tide of the divinely-inspired and thunderous “yes”: that which is however no will-of-the-wisp, but which builds painstakingly on what went before. It is the legacy mostly of the poor, and is often found among non-Christians who “know no guile”. In it is contained a sovereign humility in which however the most indomitable self-respect—and inseparable respect-of-neighbor—is uniquely and indelibly enshrined. A virility, of both sexes, stamped upon a grave-but-responsive brow, found so often among Blacks or Asians in ghettoes around the globe. Living testimonies that such people are of the utter sovereignty of the human soul, a “city on a hilltop” all its own, the source of all good things—notably of towering bravery, of sociopolitical wisdom—here below, meant by God to be surrounded with the greatest honor and care, never to trespass nor to be trespassed upon. That singular maturity and unshakeable peace and nobility which is singularly lacking in Americans, surrounded with the baubles of mutual self-congratulation, of “fun” and excitement such as we are. “Who shall deliver us from the body of this death?” Only immemorial Catholic Faith and political doctrine, tested and tried, aged like the noted wine, through millennia in time. Requiring structures and infrastructures, persons and neighborhoods, which are enduring, which carry forward a social legacy, like the thick trunk of an oak tree, which nourishes the individual man. All the while itself however remaining unobtrusive, as it were. Rather than the superstructure of society overawing the person, intimidating him with robotic wonders without life, capable of crushing him in a trice.
But Beck takes bad oratory to a whole new level, with a manner-of-delivery that suggests the velvet black-jack quietly breaking bones. While this ethos of the convincer takes some few alleged facts and breaths fantastic life into them after the manner of a mental Frankenstein, stalking the earth to wreck havoc far and wide. A methodology I have seen before, way back in earliest college years, in the Existentialist philosophy of Phenomenology whose myriad, genie-like forms were so prevalent in the ten years or so, late sixties and early seventies, just after Vatican II. Thus the ubiquitous popular rejoinder of the day, another illegitimate offspring of Marshall McCluhan’s perverse “the medium is the message”, that incantation, that much-invoked litmus-test of mental superiority, which with the era’s signature drippy condescension breathily observed, “what I hear you saying is, is that you’re mad”, or sad, or nervous, etc.: this mental non-sequitur being clumsily coupled with this meaningless use of a double-verb, the latter among the semantic survivors of those halcyon times). Meaning that what you meant to say means nothing at all, and of significance was only the manner—or “medium”—in which you said it. You can readily see how this oozing, violating sort of take on communication, phenomenology, called by some the “science of the here and now”, of raw impact, etc. ad nauseam, that which is the chosen linguistic vehicle of the sodomites, would fill the bill for a guy like Beck, this epic-unstable genie of the afternoon hour.
Thus understandably too was Existentialism at the very base of the convoluted thinking of the gaggle of eggheads that surrounded Hitler so long ago. A school-of-philosophy, at whose head was the mid-to-late-nineteenth-century Kierkegaard and a Third Reich Heidegger. And among whose adherents was also a “Blessed” Edith Stein, a converted-Jewish nun, duly beatified, among a tidy group of heretics and philosophical-error-mongers, by a recent anti-pope. Philosophical errors are sometimes even more treacherous than theological ones, as they pre-determine a person’s entire orientation or method-of-thinking, wear a groove or toboggan-slide down a twisted path which must warp theological truth itself at every turn. Hammering it into shapes weird and to varying degrees patently or marginally false. Here indeed the “inner eye which is dark” is much to the point. Phenomenology—which is the central philosophy of “progress”—indeed of an allegedly-Beck-despised progressivism—sees all life as evolving, in a convoluted series of phenomena (hence the name), much like the revulsive movements of a snake in the grass. Somewhere along whose random spasms a cruise-missile, an abortion, or a homegrown 9/11 can with magician-like, “now you see it, now you don’t” dexterity be attached. Here indeed being the core intellectual prejudice of the Jews, who are the prime financiers of related errors, black-ops-deeds and political movements, like Nazism: they who must always anticipate some path of open-ended, evolutionary changes in thinking. Radical alterations eagerly anticipated to pave the way, as it were, for their coming false, eminently-futuristic messiah. Who when he comes will be none other than Antichrist himself.
Powered by biblically-condemned demons of the unhinged tongue, orators of Phenomenology/Existentialism take up words like autumn leaves before the wind, as suggested above, and form them into fantastic images, if only for an instant, right before your eyes. But their stygian source always betrays, if ever so subtly, a troubling perception of evil, titanic power, with an overpowering presence materializing instantaneously on the heels of some bellowed or faintly-whispered phrase. Conjuring black and threatening perfidy from beneath sanctimonious airs. That Beckian oratory which is met not only by a noted nagging sense of fear, but plainly also by the mid-century-infamous fraulin-swooning, a sort of sensual delight. Of listeners in rapt surrender, foolishly-overawed TV or studio listeners at large, recalling enthralled ranks of Adolph-worshipers long ago.
Indeed, the Beckster himself, a month or so ago, in the middle of one of his stock-stiff neo-conservative diatribes, came out with the totally-fluid and irrelevant epithet “we mustn’t be afraid of change”: as if intoning an incantation to the human-sacrificial phoenix or owl-god of Progress. In this however duplicating almost precisely the words of his one-time chief nemesis, Keith Olberman, who ran an ad several times a day on MSNBC which pronounced that “we mustn’t be so attached to our traditions that we are afraid of losing them”, as closely as I can recall the Big Brother phrase. For all these allegedly-polar-opposite, Nazism/Communism opinion-smiths of today, as I never tire of repeating, meet somewhere “on the dark side of the moon”, where they supply to each other the indispensable yin/yang lock-joint which closes the loop on our rattling chains.
Necessary to note here is that the immemorial Jewish method of stealth
(as in the very word Mossad or “by stealth”)—the infamous Trojan Horse
tactic—is central to this Jewish financial/polemical brokerage of Nazism,
communism and other seemingly-synagogue-hostile movements as well. A ruse which
easily achieves the meticulous erasing of all Jewish tracks in this
intellectual sand, in this case by way of Nazism’s signature garment rending
attacks upon the Jews themselves. Utterly-costless (there’s the
giveaway) rantings conducted by Hitler, Rosenberg and others, a number of these
epic figures, including the Leader himself, having themselves been Jews. And
having sent far more Jews to a new life in
Into this perspective of haunting incantation must likewise be
cast Beck’s latest diatribe about native American tribes really being the “lost
Ruling elites always call you paranoid or a “conspiracy theorist” when you uncover these kinds of hideous intellectual beasts-of-prey: all the while they and their protégés like Beck go on to spin the most fantastically-conspiratorial tales against anyone who differs with them in the least. But good reader, you be the judge. Don’t let me, Beck or anyone else push you over any mental brinks.
There is infinitely more involved here than mere economics—realities which operate on a much more profound level—for as critical as that furrow-browed field is to the genuine liberation of the inner man, the very sine qua non of this true natural and supernatural potency is rather to be found solely in the unfettered agency with which immemorial distributive interpersonal configurations of our race were uniquely endowed. And which the advocated union with nature and the land alone allows. Providing as this native, deeply-rooted terrestrial system does a generous provisioning and servicing of critical natural harbors and inlets for man’s personality, essential enablers which a finance-based system must by nature trivialize or callously ignore. As is dictated by its radically-centralized, top-down configuration, designed for ants on an anthill, or dogs in a pack, but hardly for the children of God. No matter how many gleaming material accessories its poured-in-concrete path-dependencies may (in glutted, war-hearkening over-production) provide. But man, by twisted preoccupations which periodically overawe his mind—helped along by certain detached interlopers “not like the rest of men”—must now and again build another Tower of Babel, or some new high-tech Egypt, complete with the coded symbols of some bloody-oath-ridden, secrecy-fixated Masonic lodge.
How do the dispossessed utter such words, about a life in union with nature, with the land? Is it not like rubbing salt in popular wounds, even if few people of today have been so privileged as I, as to have plowed the land, to have led a flock of preening, grub-worm-eating blackbirds in the van? To have tasted the bracingly-unique personal agency of a two-thousand-year-old European Catholic social fabric, whose marvelous, magnificent complexities—be he Catholic, Orthodox or Lutheran, German or Englishman, Pole or Frenchman—the Continental knows so well. I having been raised by Croatian parents, gone abroad twice for extended stays, having somehow providentially escaped, at least to a degree, the arrogance-breeding tutorial in sugary contempt which other second-generation Americans would learn to heap on Mom and Dad. But this multifaceted query points like the boney finger of Dickens’ ghost of Christmas Future to what lay ahead, even if, like the novel, there is a brighter future beckoning further ahead still. Obviously, we the landless must take back the land, before we can “go back to the land”, or know the magnificent things to which, like a second Christmas, it gives singular birth. (Even if we live in the city, this landed society wafting to us the smell of the harvest, the heady tonic of clean air, and all the deeper things that these imply). The landscape having however been commandeered quietly over the past three or four decades, after which a tyrannical dominion will hardly be surrendered meekly, without a struggle of the most titanic kind.
Hence today, after the nation has been run completely broke and
drowns in red ink, fewer and fewer can meet all the counter-intuitive,
counter-recovery tightening of real-estate-market credit-standards, put
forth by a lavishly-bailed-out banking industry veritably swimming in dough.
All this coming about inexorably after the much-trumpeted appearance of the
“savior” Reagan: with the carefully-marketed bankruptcy, the tightening
credit-standards, and the foregoing land-buy-ups converging on the citizen like
a tightening noose around the neck of a condemned man. Indeed, today you go to
a realty company, or to the banker, with hat obsequiously in hand, and
are required to show all the reflex docility of a carefully-trained dog, the
rolling over or playing dead of a political correctness that grows more
demeaning and demanding by the day. And if you dare to come into their office
like the old farmer of yesteryear, courteous, but interested only in the bare
essentials of what the transaction is all about, then you will get sidetracked,
led around by the nose, until the cows come home. Hence a piece of property a
guy we know was trying to buy, in the office of one of these real-estate
correctness-nannies, a parcel whose monthly payment would have been well within
the recommended percentage of his monthly income, a guy whom simple rudeness
couldn’t ruffle, no-shows at appointment-time couldn’t dissuade, who signed a
contract that disappeared into some paperwork no-man’s-land, never again to be
seen. A fellow who finally had to leave the area because he could no longer
afford the fantastic price of the available rather seedy local lodging: way too
high even at the local Hindu-run ramshackle barn or stable, reserved for the
“Untouchables” of the American lower class, with the toilet broken or the
bathroom window out. That increasingly-standard motel fare that is so notorious
Hence, to put things we must do into proper order and perspective. First, consecrate the frankpledges (basic 10 family political units) to the two Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary, and love these our Heavenly patrons with sincere pious affection. Secondly, be ready to do whatever is required to take back land which rightly belongs after all to mankind, to the citizenry, and not to some clever gaggle of humanity-despising, politically-protected banking and investment thieves. Thirdly, once ownership or at least legally-recognized unhampered productive use of the land is secured—this latter having been the near-invariably case with “oppressed” tenants of medieval times, deeded ownership having been a near-unknown—then start putting the Frankpledge system to work.(As rights in those free and sturdy days were carried forth in custom—together with religion universally recognized as the very basis of law—rather than being with false-security lodged in wordy documents whose clever fine print augurs dispossession and despair). Mobilizing that interweave of mounting interpersonal/organizational ties, outlined throughout this site, which will bring a roaring constructive dynamic where there had previously been only boon-and-bust, life-strangling finance, fertilizer/pesticide/herbicide destruction of soil, groundwater, river and Gulf. The remorseless outsourcing-ridden, real-estate-industry-arbitrated decay of one-time powerhouses of socioeconomic vitality and cultural and moral strength.
To recapitulate: in addition to towering excesses of human folly, there has been another reason for frequent starvation, nakedness, homelessness during history. Not at all because the land cannot support the human species, according to the specious “scarcity principle” of modern economics since Adam Smith, but because a tiny cunning minority of our race—they who illustrate better than anyone else why there is a Hell—ceaselessly designates itself as the self-deified beneficiary of human labor and ingenuity. They who thrive like termites on a centralized system which escapes all day-to-day, routine surveillance by the common man. Consuming the substance of societal pillar and beam in a system of financial exactions which readily supplants God-given natural, mutually-enriching mechanisms of popular economic exchange. Those structural members whose solidity is indestructible, except by way of the most astute and treacherous of betrayals. Such as we have indeed seen here over the years since John and Robert Kennedy once so nobly graced the land.
As noted frequently here, I don’t think “technology” is required
for any of this. I think we are on the brink of a counter-revolutionary
turning-away from this whole ultra-centralizing, star-trek model. For as long
as land and industrial or agrarian capital isn’t stolen out from under people,
or devastated in repeated rapine and other depredations of protracted wars,
then wealth is able to multiply among nature-based, non-high-tech cultivars and
platforms, not only among related industries but even more from one
generation to the next. Foundations settling deeper and deeper into the
interpersonal/development soil: that which is the true source of wealth, and of
which money is only meant to be a symbol, an expediter. While if this
continuing, self-augmenting substantiality is continually drained off,
then any amount of technology will only make the extractions of the financial
or real-estate confidence-men more rewarding for themselves, and more
devastating for humanity at large. I think this is the lesson of a
American popular opinion has a way of becoming a monolith of mass conviction, and from there precipitating itself as a thunderous avalanche of irrational, hysterical, annihilating power. Ready to march behind some new savior. This is because of certain profound weaknesses in the national character, much considered on this site, factors which under today’s difficult circumstances readily reproduces the mass-hysteria of Hitler Germany: even though the latter hardly had any such serious history of social pathology as is found so readily on these shores. And just as Prescott Bush was the biggest money behind the rise of the notorious mid-century demagogue, there is conceivably some Bush money out there again, looking for some maniac more-or-less like Hitler to back.
These Thule Society people (like long-running Yale Bush-family Skull and Bones membership, its all the same), on either side of the Atlantic, are all said to be victims and/or perpetrators of sadistic sexual rites, readily turning them hypnotic madmen, satanists, wagers of Napoleonic wars. Thus when I see a guy like Beck, who also significantly-enough attended Yale for one semester, oddly-enough for one single course (underwater basket-weaving?)—albeit gifted in many ways, capable of much better—giving highly-emotional diatribes to large and then finally gargantuan crowds, finally stretching in front of the camera like a sea, drawn by his hypnotic powers—it causes me much alarm. And when I take note of his Bushite neo-con (Nazi-successor) ideas, then I can’t help wondering if he’s being groomed to be the next Fuehrer under the Thule Society world-dominion scheme.
It seems that Beck draws people into his obviously-wounded personality with his glowing eyes, appeals in particular to deep inner needs of America’s Calvinistically-despised, unappreciated women, craving as they do, with their generous nature, to find some grateful man to save from all such pitiful things. As he utters nonsensical statements in his poetic tones, or makes pronouncements of the most ill-founded kind.
Real strength isn’t really like this, rather being found among persons, nations and neighborhoods at one and the same time—and in the high paradox of all worthy things—both highly-interdependent and of the toughest sort of personal, individual metal. I think Beck could be all these things, but he needs to know where to look, learn to weld this sort of armor into his very being. Just like all of us have to do: a sometimes-grueling procedure, meant to start with earliest years, little known and almost never done on these shores. And right now, he is looking in all the wrong places, and may end up in a very bad place indeed.
And when one good, sincere person like Catherine O’Donnell somehow finds her way onto a ballot—no smoothie at all, but rather indeed a lamb let in among the wolves—she is first slandered and vilified in the beltway-typical shrill and effeminate way, and then ceaselessly mocked for defending herself at all, especially in her characteristic meek and Christian way. A good woman thus dumped in the political ditch so that a “lame duck” congress can join hands across the isle and legislate perversion, claiming huge pro-sodomy majorities in bogus, Kinsey-Report-like statistical polls. Always a handy recourse, never uncovered for a decade, when the harm is irretrievably done. A marathon legislature which as last-minute pre-Christmas business spends the last borrowed coin in the coffer on a fancy fiscal coffin for Uncle Sam’s remains.
Thus too the Tea Party—despite the many good people often found among the rank and file—is basically only a clever political catch-all whose big-boy-assigned task is to dump tea over taxes, and nothing much more. Oh, how all these big boys love all this fife and drum stuff, whose shrill strains all the more surely deafen the American electorate to their moral, economic and political demise. All the while the debt balloons over a Reaganesque borrowing-of-money and a “patriotic” refusal to restrain the “ongoing” avalanche of debt. A monstrous load which the arch-thief G.W. Bush—to his credit—was at least honest enough to confess must include future liabilities as well (for the current year): pushing this comparatively modest sum up to some 3.5 trillion. An inconceivable sum not to be confused with a total debt estimated deceptively at 14 trillion and honestly at more like 50 trillion (in an un-payable but shackle-welding fiscal by and by). A Tea Party whose wealthy and influential leadership stole central slogans from this site, in existence since the end of 2002, or from the side of our rig out on the road: (“from the bottom up”, “take back your country”, and numerous others), then neutered them of all Catholic meaning, and gave them the con-act-indispensable breathless, curve-ball-polemical spin. So that these astute people could then drive all popular political resolve into the ditch for the last fatal time, never again to reemerge.
December 21: Who is my enemy? Some new additions here. The
Jesus asks in the Holy Gospels “who is your neighbor?”, but I think were He to walk the earth today the query would rather be, “who is your enemy?”, for upon this one question hinges the entire fate of modern man. And certain forces are feverishly working to convince us of the fitness of their own candidate for this staggeringly-consequential—in today’s world deadly—term.
But since the complete removal of God from consideration as the very basic of human relations. the idea of enmity has become hopelessly obscured, with the goddess of unbridled liberty having become the new law-giver, the Enlightenment-deified moral arbiter. With human and political rights having been decapitated, as it were, made to apply no longer to exalted matters of the soul, but only to questions of bodily or economic harm. And even this, inevitably, to the exclusive benefit of a chosen few. A soulless man, obviously, having little to object to, if made equal, nay, even inferior to experimental rats or mice, being coerced from all sides to indulge in behavior in which these innocent creatures in their natural state would never engage. So that with this new and execrable concept of life and law, it follows directly that they who resist this new denigration of humanity are regarded with outright suspicion, as backward and dangerous, as potential terrorists against the new and Hellish cause.
Such brutal aggression and domestic repression is plied so remorselessly by the likes of Nancy, Barack and Hillary simply because the aim is a fait accompli of the most irremediable kind. With the execrable and intolerable having ultimately—and if possible yesterday—been cast in stolid foundations of concrete. Hence the much-remarked dispensing from all standard forms of political prudence, and even some types of ego-courting—with all this Nancy-brashness made to look so New World Order bold and brave. But, sorry, oh breathless threesome, God has a yet-bolder fait accompli all-His-own, up a divine sleeve.
Hence for inclusion on some alleged list of dangerous persons, all
that’s really required is a fundamental, passionate disagreement with a
Post-World-War-II France saw the ultimate twisting of this idea of enmity, according to the much-celebrated war-correspondent Huddleston, when the worst Nazi collaborators were the loudest in their condemnations of a Hitler regime they had so abjectly and recently served. Allies-ingratiating French ex-Nazis thereupon dragging perfectly innocent, mostly devout-Catholic people out of their homes, many to be executed on the spot. While as suggested and much to the contrary, far from a friend or enemy being so quickly recognizable—and forthwith justly rewarded or punished—the truly good bon ami might even differ with you violently, while gesturing passionately, even give you a mighty shove to push you clear of some moral or political danger at hand. Perhaps propelling you clear of the wheels of some lumbering bus which eager “friends” may be skillfully inveighing to throw you under, between ingratiating smiles and hugs. But when you have tens of thousands of “security experts”, both “contractor” and civil service, desperately searching for some “incident”, (“uncovered” in borderline fits of hysteria, then much more discretely disallowed) to justify their six-digit incomes, then an urgent manner can provide a “dependable” terrorist profile rather nicely, while the role of a clown or comedian is where craven safety lay.
Of course, real friends are so by way of a certain likeness of
mind, as St. Thomas Aquinas assures us, but to add another thunderous but
fanatic-inadmissible fact, and as the good saint would also say: just because
someone isn’t really our friend—is far too different from us for all that—this
doesn’t really make that person or nation our enemy. This latter
either/or misidentification being nonetheless a loudly-touted, trusty standby
when all else fails, for Glenn Beck and many-a muscular-brained
intelligence-community-guy, as noted above. Thus for instance China, a nation
whose interests—at least in today’s Reagan-initiated, U.S.-policy-favored “dog
eat dog world”—are quite different from ours—one whose geopolitical goals we
accordingly thwart at every turn—a China which however has no real discoverable
interior motivation to actually be our enemy. Indeed, although
Come now, Uncle Sam, you must learn the difference between a real
friend, whose smile is a welcome sunrise with which to start your day, and a
real enemy, whose face is but a mask of the same smiling mien. They who so
deftly and skillfully push you in front of the roaring,
foreign-policy-aggressive, domestically-regimenting bus today. And in
fact I’m actually quite glad the Chinese stand so stoutly against us on
so many things, a fact which, to the wise of any land, removes them further and
further from any likelihood of being real enemies of that
stock-standard, smiley-faced kind. (And of course the same applies in double
measure to the Iranians as well). Hence although I certainly execrate the way
the Chinese force abortion on married couples who have surpassed the quota of
one child decreed by the state, or the way they use prison inmates as a
limitless source of vital organs to be transplanted to those “more
worthy”—enterprises however with less-candid U.S. equivalents on at least as
large a scale—yet I know that this is a matter of a lack of religious faith and
moral training, rather than any direct desire to do harm for harm’s sake.
A moral-void in the national soul that was largely hollowed out by the
U.S.-left-wing-favored, maniacal Mao Zhe Dung during his pathological “Cultural
Revolution” spree. All the while our breathless indignation finds no time—or
breath—to reflect that it is our own policies—like paranoiacally
But by contrast, jobless penury and looming starvation, such as
would sweep across
Ah, but Uncle Sam is always good at finding a strain or fiber of
insanity or depravity in some lusted-over land, so that the Iranian
head-of-state is conveniently found to be a “madman”, Saddam Hussein a “fiend”,
with a pre-WWII Japan having been a nursery-horror-tale “Yellow Peril”, and
Asians as a whole “curiously backward”, “prone to submit” to oppressive
regimes. Limply falling prey to “strongmen” whom we heroically teach them to
resolutely resist: this all the while we omit the little detail that it is we
who put these titans in place in the first place. As for instance in the
self-same Chinese-communist regime of which we speak here, a tyranny which we
ourselves early-on nursed into the hegemonic position over the rest of Asia it
enjoys today, and against which despotism Japan alone stood in the way, so many
decades—indeed already a century—ago. With both major warring factions in
Hence too the origins of present-day confrontations with a
No, the measure of true and cold, malicious and irreconcilable
enmity is a certain metallic if well-disguised deliberation, (an
Oval-Office-precious commodity in which perhaps an unfortunate Richard
Holbrook was found at length to be in short supply?). A cunning familiarity
with a treacherous path which the abjectly-worshipped pagan New-York-Harbor goddess
Within this highly-revealing context, consider too the ruby-red blush of guilty defensiveness of the U.S. Government, in that most characteristic of subterfuges-of-guilt: namely a morbid insistence that all attempts to uncover the truth, perhaps only to reveal some glaring “security” inconsistency, strongly suggest suspicions of terroristic intent in the investigator or “whistleblower”. A breathless obsession with escaping all scrutiny which only the guilt know, and which is like a blood-trail to a homicide detective in any city or town. A self-incriminating tendency which joins hands with an eager willingness to exterminate life in whole villages in far-away lands, just because some Taliban leader might be there. All this tells us plainly of a guilt so heavy, a will so malicious, joined to a conscience so tormented, that it begs the question of an in-house 9/11, spring-loaded to bring into being a campaign of cruelty and perversity infinitely greater in scope. Only the blindest of eyes can fail to see the blood on Lady Liberty’s hands.
This is a tiringly-old story, and serves to fill ever-hungry pits of Hell, now and again, the sing-song of these people who always entertain the image of themselves as the determiners of history or of human affairs. Or as somehow “sent” to “deliver” lowly masses who can’t possibly appreciate such heady realms. In supposedly Christian lands, such people and their fawning look-alikes typically believe in some variant of the predestination heresy, of which there is a rampant if conveniently-ill-articulated U.S. Catholic variety as well. That which either identifies divine election with riches, good health and other advantages, and/or perhaps yet-more-commonly sees this “saved” condition as proven by a “cool” Manichaean “pure one” absence of clumsy embarrassments of passion or desperation. This dominant American cultural predisposition involving a singular “detachment”—held to be the very lingua franca of sainthood on goddess-of-liberty-worshipping hallowed shores—a disposition hardly to be found among pious and poverty-stricken Muslims. A “cool” which is only the noted wealth-determinacy in disguise. Since these “laid back” folks invariably knows where their bread is buttered, and fervently believe, temple exercises assiduously performed, that both the bread and the butter will always be there.
This erection of a new law besides that of God, a new idea of the state other than as the enforcer of that just and humane divine law: this is the real enemy in the sovereign sphere. It is this Enlightenment Era idea of the state, for once unmasked—as champion of the “liberty” of a global elite of conquering supermen—Hoplites of the lady “beside the golden door”—typical singers of “Amazing grace” though they be—this is genuine treachery, this is enmity, of the blackest kind. Against the fragile, vulnerable, beloved race of mankind: with whom I hold allegiance, under the One True God, above any ties of thieves, barbarian, misanthropes and fools. Indeed, I fear far less someone ready to lay his life down for Allah—who as much as I differ with him in certain ways, is more of a brother to me than these murderous fanatics with stars in their eyes—one ready to die in defense of his village, his nation, his way of life. That fervor, that love, that self-giving, which cannot honestly threaten anyone.
In this article is found a decisive new departure from prior approaches here which were entirely too accommodating toward a modern falsely-named “progress”. A parting-of-ways which I undertake, no matter how unpopular it might be or seem, against today’s overbearing methodologies, a fork-in-the-road which I choose in the most energetic and heartfelt way. For despite initial hesitations the realization has become inescapable, bit by bit, over the past twelve years since my return to college and the pursuit of a degree in economics, of the essential fused inseparability of modern technology, on the one hand, and totalitarianism as a brace of ideologies, on the other. The latter being irretrievably amalgamated with the elite-directed, globally-financed methodology of the former. The resulting poured-in-concrete path dependency forming modern tyranny’s very world-conquering material image, wrought in the most permanent, ironclad way.
What results is easily the most backward system of all times, a throwback to ancient Egypt, a pyramided monolith which despises something so fundamental as the cultivation of arable soil—which now stands globally at some mere two percent—a harvesting urgently required to feed growing numbers of the famine-stricken worldwide. A techno-tyranny whose alleged benefits to mankind are much boasted-of; boons however woefully limited to a chosen few, on an earth in which some two-thirds live in conditions quite-typically much worse than those known by ancestors long ago. When not being actively annihilated with gun-ships and guided bombs. An oppression as artificially-contrived as it is perfectly inescapable under present forms, a materially-elaborated dominion full of inbuilt redundancies of the most enmeshing, entangling kind. An anti-life, doomsday despotism it would be impossible to maintain were it not for the “progressive” rarifying of modern life into gratuitous technological, “scientific” and mathematically-based extremes, in a dismal path-dependency which reinforces itself by the day. A mostly-barren “progress”, with much-trumpeted advances seldom applied in any positive, meaningful way, even in the First World, with the commands of technocrats, initiates in abstruse fields, dooming the people to a fathomless political impotence as well. To a standing-by while people die, and wasteful pipedreams are blank-facedly pursued. A highly-secretive regimen being imposed, one whose occasionally-glimpsed outlines reveal future plans of the most diabolical kind. Educated elites being condescendingly in charge, lofty figures with whom the common citizen cannot hope to communicate in any significant way, regarding things that are however of the profoundest impact upon popular daily life. A bewildered new kind of existence having been introduced to mankind in this star-trek yet ant-hill-like vision: a “progress” with which, if the truth be told, the common man becomes more disgusted by the day. A fantasy which indeed audaciously claims to “free” us from all prior loyalties and beliefs, unless these have been adjudged entirely favorable toward this audacious scheme.
Highly significant to this discussion is the impression made so
forcefully upon an early-nineteenth-century pope, in remarks probably made
more-or-less off the record, recounting his first view of the newly-invented
steam-driven locomotive. A transfixing experience which recalled to his
imagination, to paraphrase from my own memory of the quotation, some vision of
a Hellish dragon, immerged from subterranean depths, belching fire and hot
cinders in the most frightful way. One might ask, what would he have thought of
today’s full body imaging, under the most specious of pretenses, or
civilian-butchering drone-bombs, or apocalyptic A-bombs, thanks to the
technological deity of our times. Granted, I know of no unfavorable official or
quasi-official papal teaching with respect to modern technology, and a great
many highly-positive “off hand” remarks, and I am hardly qualified to make
pronouncements of my own. But this lack of criticism seems disturbingly
consonant with a modern
Hence the basis of the new resistance movement envisioned here is found in the fact that our astute enemies—these enemies of mankind—as demonstrated above, cannot be defeated with their own weapons, over which they have absolute control, typically exercised in the utmost secrecy. The ranging global supply-chains which are required and exclusively operated by the modern technocracy being beyond the humble reach of the common man, who will always be an intruder to this imposing regime. However in a simple, personally-interdependent, reciprocity-based existence nature itself is man’s most dependable ally and friend, and will aid him in overcoming the perverts and despots who rule in these evil times. While of course there is also God, Whose aid is forthcoming if we steadfastly place our trust in Him.
Yet there is more, as this secretive, ubiquitous, uncontainable engineering-based tyranny, bristling with noisy and “patriotic” apologists thought it might be, inevitably executes a worm-like burrowing into inner chambers of the very Church herself. Rendering all opposition stillborn, mounting “surveillance” in every quarter, raising “in house” enemies against every institution which dares stand in its way. While the Church by contrast requires for her own security and organizational integrity a benign, or at least neutral set of material circumstances. An ambiance which respects basic parameters of natural law, which aid at least passively in the realization of a vigorous common good. Material life being meant to form a sturdy foundation for things nobler still, of supernatural virtue and light, and hardly being designed to pour in concrete an inscrutable divide and rule, an overpowering might makes right, of some unnatural, Martian-like superimposed realm.
Granted, it will take the power of God to finally defeat this materially-mediated conspiracy—for such it is—against the noble character and supernatural beliefs of the majority of mankind, yet we must do what we can, as God never really chooses to operate entirely alone. Rather always requiring some body of the faithful, perhaps even some St. Joan of Arc or St. Louis of France, ready manfully to “stand in the breach”. Groups and individuals whose efforts, in themselves paltry, God will then magnify with his mighty hand.
But sensing from whence its ignominious undoing will ultimately
come, this towering structure-of-control preventatively institutes an ironclad
practical and intellectual apostasy, an impious regimen imposed on the
populace through secret societies, the media and education. The latter of
which, under this shameful influence, should more accurately be termed an
Orwellian reeducation. Wherefore too the noted invasion of the Church,
as in a post-anti-council-Vatican-II clergy—much like that of “official church”
Red Chinese lore—one which too often seems to find present dire conditions in
both church and state rather amusing, as in ever-jocular prelates to be
found on a “global Catholic TV”. A clergy which stands by, like onlookers on
the road to Calvary, as the faithful are driven down a desolate moral path,
prodded by the knotted cord of “duty” where all else fails. A
The transition to this totalitarianism over the course of centuries is recounted in other place on this website, a phenomenology which would serve uncannily to magnify what seems nothing less than the biblical “unchaining of the devil for a thousand years”. While the reasons that the final defeat of this epic tyranny is reserved to the Catholic Church alone is also investigated in pages and publications here.
Hence, to reiterate: since the modern totalitarian system is welded inseparably to modern technology and the rigid regimentation which it inevitably entails, it is incumbent upon us to courageously pursue a new departure, to reestablish those bonds with nature, reason and good-order that are so sweet, natural and proper to man. A traditional way-of-life which exits decisively this infernal carousel of aggressive war, enslavement, abortion in all its many varieties, medical murder, and so on. If we are to have any hope of overcoming this destroyer of men’s souls and minds, this pitiless system must be “pulled up by the roots”, as in the Biblical phrase. The return to more basic and simple ways of doing things—with medical or industrial methods once again wrought upon “platforms” which are built into the natural world in an accessible and aesthetically-fitting way—being critical to the survival not only of Faith but of whole nations. They whose futures, especially in the Southern Hemisphere, presently hang in the balance, in a dominant techno-tyranny, heroically “united we stand” though it might imagine itself to be. Ours rather being a truly noble enterprise—a use of the things of the earth as God made them—“subdued” and refashioned indeed by human hands, but not radically and unnaturally changed, as in the vulgarizing, Boris-Pasternak-foreseen cementing over that is now occurring around the globe.
But the debate is always cast, by biblical “enemies of mankind”,
into the disarming context of liberty, of freedom of conscience, when we
attempt to defend values which the bulk of mankind hold dear. This insincere
defense of freedom ignoring entirely that this life is but a moral combat in
which we are seriously hampered by wounds of Original Sin. And that license and
freedom are two entirely distinct things. Dismissed out of hand being a human
history teeming with tales of wickedness, cruelty, perversity, warlike blood
and gore, a dark past only in recent centuries replaced by a Christian
Civilization—if one now brought into decline by the very invasive tyranny
examined here—one eminently mild and good, harboring the weak, training in virtue
the young. No, these astute traitors pretend it is all a matter of pure,
dispassionate choice, as if there were no brutes or dissemblers eagerly waiting
their chance to shove us all, especially the defenseless young, over some
shameful precipice. In a world in which “he who bears the sword” is the only
one empowered to prevent this extortion, this corruption, this murder, this
rapine. So that we predict with the saints, with the Blessed Lord Himself, the
coming reign of the two Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. They who will deliver
us from this terrible hour, from this techno-tyranny of the forces of darkness.
In an unnatural earthly might much like that of ancient
As noted, I myself think that this transition, to a better,
simpler, far-happier way, that basically of our ancestors, will be initiated by
God Himself, Who I believe will precipitate a progressive dismantlement of this
Thus although I often consider problems and challenges found in the news more-or-less “on their own terms” here on this site, yet their remedy will involve diametrically-opposed departures seldom today considered at all. Our era’s constantly-mutating, “progress”-determined phenomena being indeed designed by their inventors to follow a descending transition from bad to worse. Pursuing the Marxian principle that marginal improvements are to be thwarted at all costs, as working against the ultimate nihilistic deity of revolutionary change. To which we must answer with an alternate universe-of-activities entirely positive, enlightened, natural, pleasing to God, designed for His greater glorification and love.
All of New Church’s popular obsession with Narnia and other such fictions, in the new engrossment with magic which has been a minor leitmotif of the “enlightened” post-Vatican-II era, can hardly be any more illusory than the continuing morbid preoccupation of Congress and the Administration with bank-and-corporation bailouts, both positive (money-giveaways) and negative (tax cuts). All kinds of economic theory is ponderously rolled out to support this new take, from both sides of the isle, but the fervently-upheld assumption stoutly under-girding all this money-dumping is that mega-big businesses must under no circumstances be required to risk anything at all, let alone to ante up anything at all: not even banks and investment firms bulging with un-lended, overflowing stores of cash. No, that kind of heroic behavior is for we lowly commoners, ants who must dodge the heels of the mighty, the objects of all this overwrought solicitude, and hope we survive til next year. It is considered passé economics to expect that putting money in the pockets of naturally-goldbricking, allegedly-zero-IQ’d John Q. Citizen—no matter that we will indeed have to recoup on these funds during better times—a mere pittance compared to the trillions of remittances looming in future from bank and Mortgage buy-ups and bailouts of the past two years—would spur a solid demand market to get us through to more solid times. That sort of economics which pulled us up from the doldrums of post-WWII, and catalyzed the greatest recover, the most robust prosperity, perhaps in human history. But history is “only the eight-hundred-pound gorilla in the room”, to be trumped by flush-faced theory, and blind trust in big boys, Glenn Becks and Chief Executives, at every turn.
Of course, and as reiterated constantly on this site, the economy
has gone well beyond “business as usual” measures like fiscal policy, where the
state could once direct moneys to those industrial, commercial or construction
projects which would then gear up near-instantaneously to new hiring levels.
This in areas with a tremendous multiplier effect in “spin off” or supporting
industries of every type, creating as many as four jobs for every one directly
tied to the official expenditure. But things have gotten much more complicated
than all of that, especially with a near-two-decade-long Washington prejudice
against doing anything to help those small businesses which would most eagerly
respond, and which need share few decisions with folks oversees, or even out of
state. The mega-corporations so consistently coddled in D.C., welfare
recipients of which Haliburton is the classical
model, inevitably having their irons in a dozen fires with globally-directed
business plans. Of which operations here in the
But it doesn’t do to do the very opposite, either, and to “just leave it to the big boys”, those “job creator”—windy clouds with no rain—who “know what’s best”. Claiming with breath-baited “experts” and Fox commentators that the stock-market will get panicky, businessmen big and small will hesitate (weak sisters that they are) to invest in anything much beyond a retirement home and a coffin to be carried away in when it is all over, if they are required to share the impetus of recover with others than exclusively they themselves. For as O’Reilly and the gang, not to mention Beck, never tire of telling us, these business-guys “have all the savvy”, all the proverbial middle-class “sleeves rolled up work ethic”, and so on. Neither side of this argument makes much sense anymore, and only Catholic economic philosophy can get us out of the present mire.
But neo-capitalist agitators have the six-word-sentence answer in the ceaseless invocation of an utterly new and false ”classroom” redefinition of “socialism”, employing as all these “patriots” do that fantastic linguistics upon which so much of today’s mega-con-artistry most thrives. This notorious redefinition-of-socialism being the signature-Beckian/hysterical “redistribution of wealth”: a “classroom definition” which has however only been heard since fevered neo-con/economic revolutionaries rather violently took over the classroom/radio-station, some twelve or thirteen years ago. This new lie—for lie it is, since socialism before the takeover was always understood much-more-narrowly as “ownership of major industries by the state”—assuming breezily that an innately-expansive real-wealth must always stagnate into exactly the same pockets or it will be irretrievably lost to each and all. Here being regressive, depression-oriented economics at its abysmal worse. Even as this epic bout of blank-faced mendacity—like Nazi forebears before, the only kind these people know—was prepared further back in time by a centuries-old strategic trivialization of a term right out of classical Catholic economic/political doctrine. Namely, the much-more-basic word distribution itself. That which in fact hardly refers to some simple dole—as wallet-coddling, pick-pocket-paranoid minds like that of Beck must inevitably understand the idea—but which speaks rather to the dense and personally-arbitrated complexities of a living, breathing economy/polity. Distribution being rather a commodious organizational/political term at least as much as an economic one, one whose impoverishment is however well at home among the sparse furnishings of neo-con minds. Fox News desperately needing to “keep things simple”—or rather facile and misleading—with both “socialism” and “distribution” being radicalized, and entirely misconstrued—for just such treacherously-astute figures who glide on that strange and alien TV set-to scene. While finally of course we must also stand guard against treacheries from the other side of the isle, where “giving an inch” of an accurate, developmentally-prolific definition will find them “taking a mile” of radical, morbidly-Orwellian interventionisms of every kind. (See hyperlink on Linguistics, above).
As noted above, big government (Republican or Democratic, take
your pick) has little help but lots of sentimental rhetoric for small business:
saddling them with “deal”-inflated estate taxes or “upper”-income levies which
super-rich corporate persons and entities so deftly and easily evade. While
also-noted gargantuan welfare payments to financial and other mega-firms—homeless waifs who as suggested above
might indeed have to “plan at least three years into the future”—should sound
an alarm in our ears of the most disturbing kind. Highly significant should be
all this hand-wringing, when it forms an ironic reverse image of the
adrenaline-rush of confidence-men of computer revolution days. Those late
nineties when the claim was made that Reaganomics was the Laffer-Curve-inspired catalyst of a preceding
decade-and-a-half of ”unprecedented prosperity”. An earlier deliriously-stock-inflating
time however when
Let’s be honest: this whole massive fiction is being engineered to produce a much-more-unified global power-structure, on the Marxian-Phoenix “ashes of the old”. With economics, manufacturing, business in all its forms, being made abjectly to serve other imperatives, entirely ideological, than those for which they are properly and constructively designed. Understandably enough, then are Obama, Bill Clinton, Reid, Pilosi and the rest required to launch into eloquent abstractions, sometimes indeed sheer poetry, when making their pitch. Since the method of the tyrant and their heralds and emissaries is always to appeal to some towering principle, to do homage before ever-cloud-shrouded deities of education, “security”, “progress”, rather than do those things which simple and stubborn facts critically require. The hard—but hardly miserly—realities that fill bellies, that build solid houses on honest (rather than drug-trade money-laundered) cash.
I really don’t know how we are going to negotiate all the steep grades on the climb to a distributive, frankpledge-based system—the “what goes up must come down” of a sensible rational gravity—a model in which things are put in their proper order, with just economics put before flights-of-fancy. With honesty and rationality trumping a human-sacrificial Brave New World, a treacherous, tinselly scheme which by now the humblest laborer knows so well for what it really is. Progress being problematic at this time, this eleventh hour, when “the big boys” now own almost everything, or have it under their effective control. Although I do examine many ideas, in writings and publications on this site, toward that very end. But God Himself tells us that our strength is not in numbers, nor in horse and chariots, let alone in vulgar money, nor the favor of the mighty. We will find a way once again to draw sustenance from that most realistic and life-giving of economic axioms, that of St. Gregory the Great, announced around the end of the sixth century, to paraphrase: that the goods, lands, resources of the earth are for all men. And that those in positions of privilege and wealth are providentially so placed not to “lord it over others, calling themselves ‘benefactors’ the while”, but rather to see to the efficient, loving, innately-multiplier-rich distribution of wealth, wellbeing, political agency. To minister to the personal self-realization of those under their care or employ. This not as a mere act of charity but as justly required by the very structure and nature of things. Powerful figures who themselves depend upon the same system-of-reciprocities, who require good workers or constituents as much as the latter require good leaders or employers; men and women who once wore diapers, who during the course of a lifetime are themselves inevitably abject and helpless many times.
No sane and rational person can call the approach urged here “socialism”—which is always fed by the same global investment strategies noted above, and as noted above has always been defined, notably in papal encyclicals of Leo XIII and Pius XI—as the “ownership of most or all major industries by the state”—that toward which indeed an ever-blasé, Republican-bolstered Obama has done more than all the presidents that came before—it is rather the simple political wisdom, as maintained here and there on this site, of the pride of lions or the hive of bees. Adapted to the free and exalted parameters of the human minds and soul, heart and family. And it is only those “enemies of mankind”, identified clearly in Holy Scripture—who conspire readily with others remotely their like—who utterly reject this necessarily-localized, laboriously-personalized view of the economy, of the polity, of human society. They whose cunning, whose astute treachery requires the assistance, the supine loyalty of a mere five percent or less of a nation’s population to see to its enslavement and decay. They who are identified clearly in papal declarations throughout centuries past, who, cleverly-enough, brand as “conspiracy theorists” those who would deny them all these ill-gotten advantages. A host of monopolies they somehow regard as theirs by biblical right. They who, most gallingly and patronizingly of all—and here’s “the big tuna”—regard our acceptance of such a ridiculous fallacy as this conspiracy-theory theory as proof-positive that we are of inferior mental-and-volitional material, that we thus demonstrably deserve the miserable fate entailed. That we lack even the most basic of self-defensive or survival instincts, and therefore deserve extinction rather than the enveloping care of a for-once common good oriented state or commonweal. These biblical “enemies of mankind” no doubt in some cases even—and with some bizarre, uncanny species of sincerity—believe they are right; people we are not in any case allowed by God to hate, but rather commanded to love. Yet we must love our native land, our families, our Faith, even more. And do what is required to see them through terrible times like these.
Pitiful proof here, in these mostly-young men, of the remorseless unraveling of a social-fabric thousands of years old. A microcosm of the war-and-trade-policy-impoverished poor everywhere—whether they tote rifles or tin cups—formed by a void of most good things, coming uncannily to resemble, to adopt the mannerisms of gangs of impoverished U.S.-Latino and Latin American youths for whom violence has also become a way-of-life. As the subtle nuances of real life disappear, harden, and primitive instincts take their place: that which has no regional dialect, which knows only the most brief, laconic, furtive demonstrations of love. With socioeconomic stability, and children who survive past age-ten, relentlessly becoming a remote dream, in so much of the globe. A fate that inexorably glides its way here, to these very shores.
Obama, Congress, can you really despise these poor people, their obviously-sincere desire to simply be left alone, to retain their sovereignty, and yet call yourselves, in the same breath, their deliverers?
Aggressive war, like legalized abortion, is just murder on a massive scale, no matter what glorious or attractive names we might give to either. And Catholics simply cannot tolerate such wrongs, and yet embrace the guilty sovereignty for their own. They must courageously, unsparingly work toward the repudiation of policies which directly involve their own tax-payer money, they must cease they or their in-house-children’s input as combatants in the brutalities, the genocides, involved. Or else they must expatriate themselves. It really is just as simple as that. Or else they take on the same faceless character of some gatekeeper to a Nazi gas chamber, so many of whom, many for decades to come, under the universal onus of contemptuous condemnation, might be heard to stoutly maintain that they had “only followed orders”.
The cleanness of this only-genuine Catholic position is very much the Household-of-the-Faith’s inimitable, immemorial “freedom of the children of God”: there really is no other species of same. While all the repugnant emotionalism that always attempts to fill the void of this pearl of great price—this Bishop-Sheen-vintage ability to talk all around a crucial subject, to display an enviable vocabulary, in the most eloquent, even heart-rending way, and yet really say very little or nothing at all—will someday meet with that ultimate divine displeasure which states so laconically, “amen, amen, I say unto you: you already have your reward.”
Hence too it is sheer drivel, sheer poppycock, to volubly praise the holiness, the longsuffering of a Damien of Molokai, or a St. Therese of Lisieux, and then expect exoneration—or even today’s EWTN, New Ordo or Traditionalist, well- heeled-Catholicism’s hushed respect—while our hands and souls are covered with blood. An oceanic substance today, this innocent blood, over which the surgically-or-chemically-aborted unborn, after all, and somehow unaccountably to some, have no monopoly at all.
This, then, was what Vatican II was all about. It made possible this epic bleeding away of the Catholic integrity, the virtuous intentionality, of our forefathers, of the saints of old. That which, together with the blood of innocents, is already well-over “the height of a horse’s bridle” of the Apocalypse phrase. For the Church had all-of-a-sudden found a “new way”, under whose blinding light must allegedly be reexamined all virtues, practices, liturgies past. Ah, here was rare chance to reject the to-young-boomer-upstarts-embarrassing, stubborn-and-stodgy Catholic virility of Uncle Bill or Aunt Kate, or the equally-virile but shy goodness and innocence of Dad—and replace it with cool substitutes that would blend so well with a streamlined liturgy. Or yet again with a traditionalism, sprung forth in that first decade of “the changes”, which would be so transparently racist and income-and-nationality-elitist to its impassive core. Suddenly Catholicism could be put in precisely such polar “liberal” and “conservative” terms, and no longer find itself clad in the shoddy second-hand clothes and patched roofs of the “controversiality” (as garrulous neo-cons would attempt to characterize a wildly-popular and disconsolately-mourned John-and-Robert Kennedy administration-and-martyrdom), the general unpopularity or lower-income status of old.
Which acceptance will you choose, that of God or of men? The
latter of whom the Apostles so stoutly refused to “obey”, and into whose bloody
hands King David so dreaded to fall? I leave that to you. But do not
attempt to take the hallowed name Catholicism with you, if you too scorn
No doubt a prime example of the comfortable “priesthood as a career” set that was ushered into the “weird new church” foreseen mystically sometime in the nineteenth century by Ven. Anne Katherine Emmerich—an invasion that indeed duly took place just after a Vatican II which saw the construction of the same (no doubt expensive, spaceship-like) building, built “against all the principles of construction”—the noted interviewer only asked him for some practical specifics about defending the Catholic position against evils like sodomy in particular and any attacks upon the married state in general. Although of course the word “sodomy”—allegedly a “backward” yet of course an entirely-biblical term—one whose utter rejection by the post-Vatican-II crowd is a perfect illustration of the point being made here—was never used, by interviewer or interviewee. A singularly-riveting word, sodomy, which all “respectable” Catholics, even this good lady, still shrink from using.
What panicked words of horror and hesitation would not these
ever-solicitous people say to Jesus Himself, the Son of God, as He manfully
drove the money-changers from the
But as suggested all this had a beginning somewhere, and was an unknown in the days of my early youth. It first showed its ugly head, this monstrous invasion of American and then global society, around the time the movie Westside Story first aired, some few weeks or months after which gangs of teens would be seen to invade libraries and other places of public resort, performing the finger-snapping and other tough-guy antics of the gangs on the gloriously-promoted big-screen set. And sure enough, some few years afterward, aged about sixteen or so, on my way to (a valid, evidently-sacramental-grace-conferring) Holy Mass, braking at the street-corner just across from the parking lot, a routine maneuver indeed, I was in for a big surprise. For the smile, just then apparently lighting up my face, engrossed in some inward consideration, was instantly detected by a car-full of the same sort of self-made thugs, also stopped at the intersection, and I was angrily accosted by them as I got out. They who had just then swerved like lightning into the same black-top, to the side of the church. And I was belligerently questioned as to the reasons for my smile. The suspicion, readily revealed, being that I had meant some mockery for them, some show of contempt.
This, then, is the culture to which this archbishop has surrendered without a whimper, he who in fact announced imperatively that he would not “get into this culture stuff”. Meaning that he would discuss no practical, school, sidewalk or workplace matters at all: those venue however where the layman today, young, old, middle-aged, is so often accosted in a variety of just-such bruising ways. And where priests and bishops used to stand up for the rights of their flocks, at very least in the printed word and pulpit, but in fact at a host of other practical-result-procuring venues as well.
I finally convinced these guys—at whom I couldn’t help smiling, even then—that I meant them no harm—if however being dismissed only after listening to a stern warning against all such future behavior. These veritable cultural icons to whose tender mercies, and unfetter sense of correctness and propriety—fit only for the prison-yard—whether in antics of sodomites, pushers, or hardnosed and invasive correctness-enforcers on the job—the archbishop and his like have consigned us, averring that their only task is to “announce the Gospel” to all who will listen. And this, plainly, only in the most non-“offensive” of ways. All the while the sheep are “snatched and scattered”. While in the public forum, and as the archbishop looks impassively on, those who don’t go along with this vulgarization lose their jobs to some sodomite, or some Church-defended illegal, and in all places are culturally-and-institutionally regarded as mere milk-toast, as insipid, effeminate, as fodder for the maws of the bestial sodomy-advocacy machine. All this, again, since the “wonderfully freeing” experience of Vatican II.
It isn’t at all, furthermore, that we love to speak of fire and
brimstone, of Hell, but there are two ways to destroy Catholic Faith: one is to
close down all Catholic Churches and institutions, to gun-down Catholic clergy,
the way of the Communists, they whose Glen-Beckian-dead-horse-beating
is the right-wing-correct thing to do. Two decades after communism’s
repudiation by 90 percent even of Russians, in positions high and low. And then
there is the far-more-insidious but much-more-effective way to destroy the
Faith: that for which I maintain that the other was only a smoke-screen, to
blind and burn the eyes, indeed to empower such turbulent men as Beck. (He
whose great-grandfather may even have been the notorious corrupt
union-official, named Dave Beck, from the same state, to whom he bears a
striking resemblance. An intensely “religious” Dave Beck who likewise
loved to give sanctimoniously-patriotic speeches, and whom Robert Kennedy
identified as a critical component, way back in the early sixties, of the
then-already-well-advanced mob-and-finance-related drive to destroy the
We see this all the time out here, this tough-guy stuff, the very yin/yang polar-component of the deepening sodomy malaise. Although the approval rating of what we do must rank somewhere in the 90-percentile range, out here on the Crusader trail, where we simply pull off in some dusty or gravelly pull-off and display our anti-sodomy, anti-tyranny signs for all to see, yet more and more of the aging biker crowd—if with many notable positively-enthusiastic exceptions—treat us to deadly stares, and more-recently to hostile accostings as well. This black-hearted variety of biker, many of whom are still quite formidable, they who are the last remnants of the church-parking-lot warriors noted above, albeit most of them now no doubt more-or-less arthritic. For you see, courtesy of the good archbishop and his like, these paragons—most of whom are extremely wealthy, many of whom run banks and businesses, some of whom are hit-men for the mob, for a variety of murder-for-hire groups—these guys regard us as rank traitors to the cause. Since we plainly didn’t hop on the Mickey-Mouse-Club to Westside Story to local-drug-pusher bandwagon of behavioral control: that merry-go-round which they consider home, and whose giddy ride our generation was engineered to wholeheartedly embrace.
These veritable “policers” of the road actually arrogate to themselves the role of regulating personal conduct out there, on every remote mountain top or flat plain, which they pollute with their civilized-country-prohibited (an unknown the last I was in England or Spain) engine-noise. With “mufflers” which rather seem to amplify than to muffle, creating an unearthly noise which seems somehow to get louder the further they get away. They who are the real last-ditch enforcers of the KFC or McDonald’s drive-in lunch, with all its cultural accoutrements, which we are all almost required to buy out there, if we would stop at a roadside rest, rather than the much-better but less-commercialized fare that comes from our camp-stove, and our own loving, personalized, but-to-correctness-policers blighted or campy fare. These goons, who want nothing but “light and joy” out there on the road, and the antiseptic middle-class routine, a tonic perhaps to “clear their heads” after their latest crimes—who don’t want to hear anything disturbing, or see anything thought-provoking—still have the same look about them as the bunch in the church parking lot. Nothing about such people ever changes much: indeed, this stone-like impenetrability is the key to their storied “machismo”. These guys some of whose gangland bosses are actually much more powerful this side of the border—from where the weapons are procured—and no doubt from where the orders are issued—than they are in a now blood-drenched Mexico, if the truth be told. But their job up here is to quietly insure the delivery of “the stuff”, and to keep alive the subculture which made it all so popularly-enduring, since halcyon days noted about. What will these guys be doing when order breaks down, up here too? Two guessed, and the second doesn’t count.
We have reason to believe we may be under threat by these guys,
but we don’t fear these people: if it is our time to go, then we will go. But
rather I am convinced that it is their time to go. Trampled under the
feet of St. Michael the
All this sabotage and “good-guy” refusal to get involved—the very
cultural-mystique of the noted archbishop—has understandably seen our rig get
into worse and worse condition—as we ourselves have limited funds, especially
as a hedge against crooks, extortioners and thieves.
(Although we refuse to install a “contribution” button on this website, as we
want our effort to be intensely and entirely personal, with no invisible
strings attached to moneyed power-puppeteers working from above). One of these
mechanics, both of whom ultimately gave evidence of being sodomites, was a
Mexican from across the border, who kept us hostage, actually making
transparent threats against our lives (as we waited in his yard full of rather
good vehicles, oddly without owners), while he destroyed the engine he had just
put in, insuring that a valve would break some few miles down the road. While
the next mechanic, also from
But this is our equivalent of
Thus too did we finally lose our original rig of 32 foot length, which accommodated a larger and lengthier display. A fire—fed by a 60-mile-per-hour headwind—no doubt igniting some of the oil that understandably-enough coated the whole bottom of the trailer—we were only trying to reach a rest-area just up the road—had sprung forth, somehow, both inside and out, right under the banner of the two Sacred Hearts—and had already advanced beyond reprieve by the time we detected it, and pulled over.
Out here too, standing beside our displays, we get to examine
things for which others have no time or opportunity. Thus the much-discussed ”vapor
trails” of jets which seem to be of a military kind, although they are
generally too far up in the sky to recognize very well. These pilots are
indubitably occupied in tactical weather-changing, since now the thinnest of
these trails, from the engines of jets, quickly widens into what for all
intents and purposes seems to be a cloud. We have watched while these aircraft
weave these trails across the sky until a warm day turns cold, and this just
prior to these latest cold-spells, which in turn are always strongly fed-into by
weather systems out West. These “clouds” are apparently made up of chemicals
which combines with other elements, like atmospheric oxygen, to produce a
vapor, so that we have a sort of seeding involved. While others
vociferously maintain that this stuff is either metallic, chemical or
bacterial, and thus toxic. But plainly, these phenomena are real, and man-made,
although I doubt very much that
Finally, in concluding this criticism of our exposure in recent days to New Ordo Catholicism once again, through the avenue of EWTN, I must say one very important thing. First of all, to display such a solid grounding in Catholic doctrine as many of the clergy and laity on this program do, and then not to be fired by the Holy Ghost whom they profess so to love, to demand—not just preach or argue—the political application of these eternal truths to public issues at hand—as Western law and commonweal once so painstakingly did in the past—to as it were prune everything down nicely to dimensions acceptable to a tiny elite inspired, wittingly or not, by Jewish prejudices, sentiments and beliefs—finds one guilty of a worse crime than if one knew nothing at all about our creed. For the overwhelmingly-dominant new heresy is to deny this public aspect of the Faith; to surrender the political sphere into the hands of our enemies, and then resign ourselves to preaching to them from positions of impotence, and ultimately no doubt from behind bars.
No, indeed, EWTN, there is no such thing as the post-Catholic or
post-Christian state. Throughout
In a Catholic USA in which an allegedly conservative EWTN is our
greatest boast, it is good to examine the diametric opposition to this world
which actually obtains, when Catholics remain entirely Catholic through
thick or thin. The noted corporate-TV podium in fact shares much-the-same
aggressive nationalism as was identified by Lyndon LaRouche as infesting
Christian Churches everywhere in the USA today: if in the case of Catholics
often-enough in a tacit or wordless way. A spirit-of-conquest, indeed a quasi-Nazi/aggressive-warrior
(viz. bi-partisan-Neo-Con) lay-piety being acceded to by Catholics here,
choosing the long-standing American-Catholic route of omission, of a richly
rewarded non-criticism. Largely leaving hoarse cries of positive
“fanaticism” to others, perhaps even with rare economy despised. A “my
country right or wrong”, in practical fact, nonetheless, the only route that
was safe for a Catholic under a mid-century Nazi Reich of which the
Bush/Obama USA is a direct ideological heir. A regime with an even-earlier
forerunner in a “survival of the fittest” Spencerian
White Supremacy of which the USA was the Teddy-Roosevelt-era global embodiment:
that earlier elitist fanaticism, of which Blacks, Indians and Japanese were
among the first targets, which Hitler first admiringly learned-of from the
likes of Henry Ford and others here. A “line in the sand”, this odious statism,
however crossed regularly and courageously by Catholics in wartime
But the way of EWTN no doubt finds the discovery of hundreds of once young and healthy murder-victims, in Mexican graves—having been “harvested” for organs to feed a demand-market made possible by the U.S. court-and-legislature-enacted homicidal redefinition of death—a lucrative enterprise indeed, a sort of new drug-trade all its own—to be much too controversial. This while a patent post-Vatican-II soft-pedal treatment of sodomy—in which the standard argument that “these people are ‘just that way’”, “can’t help themselves”, and so on, dovetails neatly with the local Father Jim’s ceaseless rejoinder, “all we should do is to love them”. (Excuses hardly to be found in the Bible, before fire descended upon perverted cities of old: a Sodom and Gomorrah which EWTN might even think, with post-Vatican-II exegetes, is a “Mesepotamian fable”, but whose charred remains, just as surely as an also-“fabled” Ark, have recently been found). This “just love them” being a familiar facile slogan which hopelessly confuses the matter before it can see the discussion-related light-of-day, since we aren’t talking about people here—whom we must of course always love, according to the Gospel injunction—but rather about a grotesque, pathetic, morally-and-mentally crippling, at certain levels no doubt unforgivable, sin. That which on the contrary we are steadfastly commanded to hate. And to avoid like leprosy.
Ah, but an EWTN which dares to utter the stock Judeo-Protestant abomination that St. Joseph “had evil thoughts”—this singular saint who as St. Maximilian Kolbe tells us lived and lives—with the rest of the Holy Family—on an entirely different order from other spiritual beings—the Good Saint Joseph having not only been confirmed in grace but also cleansed from Original Sin—not indeed from birth but from the moment of his betrothal to Mary Immaculate—this same selectively-heterodox station can with rare economy-of-effort vociferously condemn a John Kerry for taking Holy Communion after supporting abortion “rights”. Since, after all, he, liberal “Catholics” and others involved care not a fig for our opinions anyway. This is far easier—and to some even more pro-life-heroic sounding—than to forcefully or even meaningfully oppose a monstrous, perverted system-of-indoctrination which is voraciously devouring the sanity and integrity of our youth before our very eyes. Challenged as we are to religiously “condemn the one, while not omitting to condemn the other”, in a paraphrase of Christ’s command. Our youth not only enduring a constant advancement of sodomy as a good—or at least “emotionally”, chemically- or genetically-determined and thus an “incurable” or even, repulsive thought, a natural thing—but also suffering the equally dependable contagion of constant prurient exposure. All the while the final blow is administered of making the chaste, noble and mild, the Christ-like and Mary-like, feel somehow bland, unmanly or inferior, in the face of job-and-pop-culture-favored brutal polarities of the dykes and queenies of sodomite lore. That rank fiction, of Jews and pagans all, which was once ruefully acknowledged for the insufferable insult-against-Faith that it truly is: when truly-solid laity, real men and women such as we scarcely see today, once tore away sly appearance, and looked unabashedly at what was really going on. This heartless verbal defilement of the good, this stark and ignoble misrepresentation—of the very pristine holiness of Our Blessed Lord, in both Himself and His most devoted followers—being ever the salacious coup fatal, of world Jewry, as well as the ultimate inevitable avenue-of-attack of the turbulent, close-cousin sodomite crowd.
Understandably from the above, in the facile U.S. Catholic
approach considered here, in this fundamental lack of individual, personal
dedication, is put into place the Calvinist/Congregationalist/Born-Again
salvation-litmus-test of the acceptance of others. With this most
radically non-Catholic of motivations—this invasive collectivist democracy
of the soul—hardly resembling the often bitter and hard, thorn-strewn
traditional Catholic devotional or contemplative walk with God. A Gospel
flower which withers under hot blasts of popular praise. An interior
“conversation” (a 1960s Fr. Rohrbach, St. Therese of
The EWTN program “The Journey Home” targets for conversion in a
special way those Protestant ministers, perhaps especially Presbyterians,
wishing most pointedly to bring them into the fold. To what purpose, this odd
concentration, I do not know. Thus I devote some few articles to analyzing this
TV program, now and again, because it is a singularly-visible “tip of the
iceberg” of a “Catholic” New Church with which the True Church so
disastrously collided, like another Titanic, and whose wreckage has covered the
ocean wide since ’62-‘65 when the catastrophe occurred. That
True, the modern Catholic—living and working as he does in a world both openly and insidiously hostile to the genuine Catholic worldview—cannot always so easily break, in an open way, with power-structures evil in the extreme. Yet he must always acknowledge the Catholic social, economic and political doctrine as the sole ultimate medicine for the organizational diseases of mankind, and work tirelessly to see to the free adoption of these teachings by the land to which he belongs. While likewise fearlessly opposing unjust policies both at home and abroad. For otherwise he can hardly be considered much more than a coward, a lukewarm patriot and a turncoat to the Catholic cause.
Indeed as history so amply bears out, the
Teaming mestizo populations of Latin America stand forth to this very day as a reverse image—a ringing indictment—of a U.S. “manifest destiny” whose caustic fury was destined ultimately and indeed predictably to envelop an entire globe. And to reduce native populations there as it had done at home. In economic/diplomatic policies running in tandem with—and of the same noted “heroic” species as—the military ones. This while the immigrant Catholic was taught by Carroll-trained clergy and their successors to consistently think himself more a guest than a citizen, a sort of breathless aspirant to lofty American democratic principles, a penitent for Old Country Catholic political past of which he was taught to be almost mortally ashamed. Someone who must “make no waves”, who must remain basically silent—concerning little beyond patriotic flag-waving displays—when it comes to the political sphere. But in fact there was a tacit pact involved here, as Catholics knew full well that this was not the same species of creed that they had had in “the Old Country”, that they were treading upon certain things vigorously-practical, existential, holistic: Thomistic/Aristotelian things their forebears and parents had held sacred. But with the exception of few beside certain German, Latin and Slavic Catholics, courageous, persecuted figures like my own father, in the local labor-union and parish scene, back in Joliet, Illinois, the historic compromise—the basic sequestering of the Catholic “Way” behind doors of the family home—was carried out “without a hitch”. While conversely compromised Catholics themselves would often and ironically enough come to vaguely despise their Protestant neighbors, coming rather naturally to think of themselves as an isolated elite. And yet-more-fatally to ally, to identify themselves with Jews, as highly-articulate, highly-educated outsiders in a quasi-foreign milieu. Jews who always know how to tactically and strategically keep their own counsel being however the ultimate, powerful, unfailing source of the very animus with which U.S. Catholics have had to contend.
Manifested in all of this lockstep statism is a radical “unity of
church and state”, or actually, if in terms ironically both boasted and
secretive, of synagogue and state: all the while there is denied true
Christianity’s defining unity of faith with political life, with the
innocent-but-enveloping concerns of practical city and neighborhood affairs. An
omission which betrays a species of “detachment” wherein the noted Catholic
compromiser most thrives, if within a self-identification which hardly
acknowledges any specifically-Catholic formation or way. (Granted, within misty
charms of much-celebrate if-highly-Americanized Irish or Italian song or
cuisine.) True Catholicism’s unity-of-concerns being an easily-misrepresented
marriage—being clothed in the artless non-defensiveness of all truly good
things—one borne out abundantly in genuine Church history. A humble,
life-giving, sleeves-rolled-up unity—which knows no condition of “guest” or
outsider anywhere it has come to reside—which mirrors the stability and
eternity of the dual human/divine Personality of Christ. He Who indeed shared
all our miseries, and was patient ”unto folly” with all our many bungled
efforts, even with our earnestly-repented sins. A unity displayed in concrete,
humble realities of an
No surprise, then, given this helpless Calvinistic condition, that somewhere along the way the cart began pulling the horse, and the sustaining of this utterly contradictory Christian Sparta idea of the state proved so riveting and definitive to this sort of national identity as to become an all-important end in itself. A bandwagon onto which, with the vigorous encouragement of our highly-heterodox first plenipotentiary bishop, John Carroll, U.S. Catholics quickly jumped onboard. With a wholesale slaughter of largely-Catholic Indians on the western march, trained by the truly fervent and orthodox Spanish and French, setting a now-all-too-familiar vanguard grizzly pace. With a major warp in the national character steadily becoming evident for all to see: a pathology which came by stages to positively require some enemy—real or imagined—at whom to direct a fevered sort of militant animus quickly become the national personality, the Yankee raison d’etre. The uncontainable drives of religion—which someway or other “will out”, whether in some genuine or some warped, twisted, idolatrous way—having relentlessly cut a new streambed for themselves in this nation-worship—however only another tiresome version of the same old Caesaro-papism that had infected with such notoriety the Byzantine, Ottonian, Habsburgian and Elizabethan-English worlds. A national malaise experienced, as various data dramatically bear out, on both a personal and a collective level, in strange inner ailments which would relentlessly come to rack the American soul. Inevitably producing here and there many-an above-noted, tormented social anomaly or BTK. A belligerence on the sovereign level reserved in earlier Reformer days for some naughty representative of “heathen Rome” just then hard to find, or little inclined toward another quarrel, now being released upon anyone who resists the “American Dream”, dealt out in strange fits of sanctimony and rancor, ill-disguised trade-theft and racist ire. This odd sort of patriotism ultimately producing gallingly-unjust anomalies like occupied Iraq, where we handed over former civilian officials, notably Christian ones, to cruel and vindictive Shiite hangings, and then cry “failed state” when the pro-Shiite mobs we so high-handedly put into popular power start to kill yet more Catholics whom Saddam Hussein consistently showered with honors and respect.
But contrary to all these breathless attempts at compromise in the
political sphere, the coming Fatima-and-DeMontfort-predicted Age of Mary
will be built upon the final, exhaustive acknowledgment of the political
reign of the two Sacred Hearts. Soon to be inaugurated being the momentous
triumph of those Heavenly Sovereigns over earthly affairs, of Heaven over a
human nature upon which God’s law is written as with a fiery brand. A signing
which human law of all lands must mirror in the most perfect possible way, and
whose faithfulness to which mirroring is the sole infallible standard for the
greatness of nations large or small. Here being a fundamental, all-determining
reality which must be openly and fervently acknowledged in a public way, both
practical and ceremonial, a pyramided dedication against which the forces of
Hell ceaselessly conspire. A Jesuit-spirited, popularly-embraced prostration
before the honor and glory of God, only with mortal peril to be denied or
usurped by any earthly power, which will spell a final crushing of the proud
Satanic head. That a triumphant event predicted when Adam and Eve were driven
from the Garden, so long ago. A victory which will embody the
But in the meantime does the false patriotism of such a modern
Thus too the present ideologically-purist, anti-human contention, as pursued in rare form by this Senator Barasso of Wyoming, that a banking-and-corporate behemoth which now sits on trillions of dollars of unspent, un-lended money will collapse if Bush-era tax-cuts aren’t extended. (An argument in which however both right and left eloquently ignore those tax-loopholes which corporations and corporate execs enjoy, and which are among the real systemic injustice involved.) The ill-concealed bipartisan slander here being that the ordinary worker or consumer would only stupidly or lazily squander or misuse money obtained in generous neo-Keynsian fiscal (as opposed to regressive monetarist) policies. Much-maligned realistic demand-side measures—setting aside inefficient, distance-bleeding, million-dollar-apiece wind-generators built on un-remittable borrowed cash—which would have the effect of circulating (not really “redistributing”) some of this bloated, corporate-welfare bailout money to this common man, so that he himself might arbitrate a truly-solid national recover. That namely which must always have dominant popular-demand-side dynamisms, or be doomed to fail, or merely profit a speculative-bubble-producing and increasingly anti-human corporate machine. Ultimately, inevitably propped up by nothing so much as the “demand market” of skillfully-disguised aggressive war.
The great central cleavage, of good and evil, of social or political ideas is found in the fact that all things that minister to the common good of men are “good with God”, while a great host of cleverly-woven, rigidly-espoused, “heroic” ideologies infest the outer darkness around the well-construed state. Ready to attack like a new Luftwaffe, from out of a cloudy sky. These pernicious errors being tirelessly employed to bring to the precincts of the polity the “weeping and gnashing of teeth” of nether abodes, to minister bleakness, despair and the ultimate loss of souls. Hence do these false ideas and systems bear the stamp of a certain sanitary, abstract ideological rigor, a certain veritable marching in column and line, to achieve some vaunted aim. The devotees of today’s god of Progress claiming for instance to have tamed and purified, veritably remanufactured human nature, freed it forever from “backward” loyalties and age-old infirmities and pains. While in economics, the contention is religiously held that some stark and simplistic model of a “free market system”—one in fact radically unsuitable to a dense, innately-fragile, counterpoised thicket of human needs alike animal, spiritual and rational—has finally been devised, as if borne on the wings of intellectual angels (like Milton Friedman) to lowly men below. This ritual purity being a cult which especially appeals to the proud or immature, to those impatient with the needs of other, of the helpless and (to them) despised. Hence too and as suggested above, in medicine, discoveries are sought that would achieve a much-vaunted Hitlerian “race of supermen”, of giants engineered to despise such human realities as the love of woman and man. Iron-willed barbarians trained to lust after one another, who boast of no longer needing the lowly womb to create their like, who hawk their deadly displays of aggression, alike social, economic and military. These “not like the rest of men” being led on blindly by the prince of Hellish rage, to experience sensual delights, with increased exclusivity, solely in acts of murder, torture, perversion, unspeakable cruelty and barbaric rapine. And one needn’t look very far to see lurid examples of this new Nazism in these our benighted times.
Our Blessed Lord, He “whose delight is to be among the sons of
men”, offers salvation from this remorseless, unforgiving agenda, He Who rather
respects the marvelous organic complexities of a race indeed wounded by
Original Sin, but loved all the more for that. And it is within this generous
accommodation, stained with the very redemptive Blood of the Savior, that we
see most clearly Catholic social, economic and political philosophy, the very parallel
earthly salvation of mankind, anticipatory to Heavenly bliss, reserved to
special completeness within the politically-Catholic sovereign sphere. Traces
of whose blessings could be experienced back in the ‘60s, even amid the
admittedly-imperfect administrations of Franko’s
Thus too, and as suggested above—and likewise largely flowing from
anti-life/Manichaean ideological sources—and in another exercise in staggering
“Christian”-American incongruity—recent legislation which erects the
sodomite as an all-powerful constituency, dominant in school and
job-market, with already-long-standing rights to adopt children, his own weird
“marriage”-contract, survivor benefits, and so on. Since the days of a
falsely-and-fanatically-venerated Darwin, Spencer and Freud—oddly consonant
with rigorous Puritan throngs—the mental and moral health of mankind having
been radically-despaired-of on these shores, the age-old, continuous healing
potency of Christian Civilization, of Catholic Sacraments, having been
cynically denied. In the Hellish vision of a sort of Anti-Christ, Nazi/Spartan
citizenry in which higher, gentler reaches of spirituality are actually ranked
as inferior, are in fact supplanted by the a Gnostic/Manichaean mysticism
of cruelty and might. The
Indeed the intention of the Synagogue, and its mentor in Hell, in sponsoring so assiduously this utterly false, destructive and pernicious model of both patriotism and Early Church Christianity—with the stern cultural pacesetters in such a Jerusalem morphing successively from buckle-hatted bigots to frontier genocides to oddly-self-righteous drug-lords—was precisely to broker an ironically-“humble”, bare-bones ineffectuality on the practical moral plane, regarding the establishment of the social reign of Our Lord Jesus Christ on earth. That “Kingdom come” for which the same “born again” crowd prays so ostentatiously in the Lord’s Prayer, but hypocritically rejects in every concrete way. For here is found the ill-acknowledged repudiation of basically all practical Christian gains since the death of the last Apostle, all the while the vaunted American global warrior keeps West-Asian heroine routes open by “whatever means it takes”, including the engineering of grizzly black-ops war-provocateur deeds at home and around the globe. This in a “whole new kind of warfare” which divorces life from faith in the most traumatic possible way. A Canaanite-learned Gnostic or Manichaean (Nazi) strain which had marked the Synagogue from the very start. This while Nazism and Judaism further show their identical roots in the Thule Society or Skull-and-Bones: a secrecy-ridden global power-network of which Hitler, himself half Jewish, was a member, and from which Nazism itself mystically sprang. A composite-cabal which—notably at places like Bohemian Grove in California—blends sodomite/Canaanite ritual human sacrifice with infamous Manichaean rituals of the Nazi High Command, in a convergence traceable through the twisted conduit of a U of Chicago Strauss of 30s lore (Source: recent book by Lyndon LaRouche). A Third Reich transplant destined to sprout seed in a future devotee Dick Chaney, in George Bush and a “Muslim” Barrack Obama (both the latter being crypto-Jews), in a Rumsfeld, all yet to come. Nazism, together with its inseparable yin/yang opposite, communism, having been the ultimate twin brainchildren of German/Jewish nationalists of the mid-nineteenth century, among the chief incendiaries of the destruction of the unifying influence of the Habsburg Empire, just then under violent Judeo-Masonic attack. Here being found an errant, paganistic spirit—which on a grander scale and as noted always keeps its also heavily-synagogue-financed, close-cousin mirror-opposite, communism, waiting menacingly in the wing—the same weltgeist which had caused the Israelites to worship bloody idols during the Exodus, had made them turn traitor against their own prophets and Messiah, brutally killing the former, nailing the latter “to a tree”.
The fact is that this scorched-earth American Christianity has
been the unerring, well-concerted culmination of world-Jewish labors since the
But to this unrivaled tragedy the “born again” has only to blankly say—in an offhanded repudiation of the power of grace, and even perhaps with a characteristic chuckle—that “man is corrupt from the start”. This despairing formula being mechanically repeated all the while he waits for “the Rapture” to take him unharmed to the skies, just when such an evil and erroneous system inevitably implodes in the most hopeless, catastrophic way. Thus too, as we learned in recent months while on our anti-sodomy Crusade, today’s incomprehensible, quiet but increasingly open-armed acceptance of sodomites into born-again ranks, as Luther’s faith without works is taken to logical conclusions bitterly opposed by the German heresiarch himself. He who at least knew how to candidly evaluate a Renaissance Europe become foreign to immemorial civic virtue, drinking deeply of the perverse, effeminate and tyrannical Byzantine malaise. These non-Catholic compromises having above-described echoes in a head-burying Catholic “Charismatic” spirit which effectively rules parishes from sea to sea.
Our desire, then, in this Crusade, is to free the
Presented here are some ideas of how this may begin to come about, to be prepared for, all in humble ways. On the local, then the regional, and finally the national level. But always the glory of God must come first, and the aid and guidance of Our Blessed Lord and Lady will be critically required, as well as the intense study and gradual adoption of the Catholic Way. That “more excellent way” to the exposition of which this site is undyingly dedicated, and to which we do indeed pledge “our lives, fortunes and sacred honor”, the practical devotion of our energies, and the fervor of our hearts and minds.
Here, then, comes into its own the Frankpledge and the Frankpledge Party, dual arms of the same Catholic social, political and economic system and ideal advocated here. The first being the local organic grain or seed, the last the political vehicle of its national proliferation. The Frankpledge or ten-head-of-household basic unit of ancient and medieval political life being a highly-personalized sort of sub-precinct-level political body, one adapted to the most critical needs of our times, being geared ultimately to a grassroots industrial activity as well, destined to entirely supplant the crushing hegemony of the corporations and Wall Street. Military/industrial giant monster offsprings of a monopolistic early modern Jewish carrying trade noted above. As well as to effectively counter the ever unpredictable and incalculable machinations of that Synagogue which perpetually looms somewhere in the shadows behind.
But as important as is an urgency-driven willingness to follow such a course—culminating not only in the formation of small businesses in a just and Godly setting but also in the final critical weaving of a strong, loose-knit, interwoven national economic fabric—it is equally necessary that we first be immersed in the Catholic economically/organizationally distributive spirit in the most complete possible way. Hence is it urged upon the reader to study the entire content of the website louisdejolietpublishing.com, including the many “Summary of Ideas” hyperlinks as well as the three books available full text, without charge, online. As well as to pour over the encyclicals of popes and the writings of Catholic theologians like St. Thomas Aquinas or Ballermine, as they touch upon the Catholic social ideal. For my attempt in these publications is to acquaint you with a full and red-blooded Catholicism not seen since Vatican II, and truly, openly and with full liberty observed only in the thirteenth-century Age of Faith, and in ages long before. A full and incarnational Catholicism learned from my own devout Croatian parents and from their many Old Country friends and relatives I was so privileged to know, and by whom I was in so many ways formed. Involved here being a way of life which requires our earnest and prayerful study and meditation, which has dimensions as mystical as they are timely and precise in application to the issues of our times.
However it is not as if I would totally “form your mind”, as so many today would pretend to do: rather do I only lend a hand in finding the indispensable key to undiscovered thoughts and convictions, efforts and energies, that are profoundly and essentially your own. My effort being toward the unlocking of the above-noted habit of thinking and acting called distributism, and in a moral sense distributive justice: that which is the truest moral and intellectual habit of humanity, that which perfectly suits our dignity as a complex interface of body and soul, of individual person and ever-unique polity. That universally-applicable methodology which shuns top-heavy, sharp-edged, impersonal, mathematical-formula-like social, economic or political paradigms, and looks rather to that which honors the human person, which yet-more-profoundly loves ones own soul. And which sees this dual honor as only achievable within a self-conquering adoration of God. After which acquired habit one will be “ones own man” indeed, and easily be a productive agent in the community as well as a leader in ones own circle, in ones own right, according to ones own inimitable style.
We invite you forward, then, to this noble task; we urgently need your insight, your vital, “hands on” grasp of the local or neighborhood scene. There is one Who provides unity and coordination, the Spirit to make us strong: and that is Christ, the Head of the Mystical Body, the Church. While without this Good Shepherd our leaders must falter, their efforts must ultimately be in vain, our children “inherit the wind”.
This term—much like Fox-Network’s new definition of socialism (see article below)—signals the denial of a deep human reality upon which nations are formed—that true and heartfelt friendship which St. Thomas Aquinas holds to be the very raison d’etre of the state. The Catholic love-based Way in particular being a marvelous species of “mutual dependency”, a friendship nonetheless strong or “tough” enough to “go it alone” when necessary, but only when necessary. Rather preferring the marvelously-alive, self-giving/gratefully-receiving reciprocal dynamisms of “bearing one another’s burdens, and so you will fulfill the law of Christ”. Genuine, joyful, ebullient Catholicism manfully scorning to do a movie-land tough-guy act, and then blankly call this camera-light-happy caricature strength.
However, what’s the shame, if someone chooses to depend for dear life upon some other human being, rather than upon drugs, or some well-paid counselor, or the group: this latter the most “cool”, “correct” but in fact incomparably-abject of dependencies. For the personal, the genuinely-intimate—and not merely herd-marketed—is being remorselessly, with fanatical antiseptic fervor, scoured out of human life today, and replaced by dependencies much more desperate and all-consuming, if the truth be told.
Of course, and no doubt, there is probably some form of an actually
destructive mutual dependency, no doubt generously fed by meth or some
other dope, but it remains that the whole pathology which so consistently
trounces the American mind, reducing it to jelly, revolves much-more around specious
ideas of the brave, the tough, of standing singularly tall, and so on.
And this in turn arises, as I never tire of repeating, from signature-Jewish
early-American-Calvinist prejudices and displays-of-contempt against the entire
affectionate and embracing
Of course, for this mutual dependency to be good and genuine it must be based—as much as is within ones ken—upon the truth, upon a love of God which is wholehearted, and a love of neighbor which at least in a basic sense wishes well to all men. Hence to be good mutual dependency must not deify some one person: even though the tendency to do so might indeed be a constant struggle to overcome. But alas, modern ”tendency”-ridden, purist-Manichaean psychology will always be transfixed in horror over a naturally-rambling or hit-and-miss human consciousness, will always see psychosis where there is passion or pain, or “incurable homosexuality” where there is some odd, demon-inspired thought wandering uninvited for a moment through obscure corridors of a highly-vulnerable brain. So that purity, natural gender-identity and sanity can be dispensed with in one fell swoop, and the hovering ministrations of those “experts” who claim to “know what’s best” will high-handedly rule the day.
How many marvelous, beautiful loves and lives have not been crippled or destroyed by this harsh, ever-condemnatory, ever-posturing fallacy against love, goodness, self-giving. In warnings delivered in especially urgent tones by a certain brand of TV-and-workplace-dominant loud-mouths and pill-poppers—or in some homes even by parents or siblings around the family table—bearers of a “bravery”-ethos which forms much of the universe of profilers, security-experts, teachers and industrial psychologists, and so on, as well. They who increasingly rule with such commanding hauteur in today’s super-sick world. It makes me think too of the chilling scene in the movie 1984, in which the hero and heroine, very much in love, are seated in a restaurant or cafeteria, but must endure the strident tones of operatchiks, seated nearby, they who declare love to be “a thing of the past”. Love between man and woman just then being replaced by the “advanced and enlightened” test-tubes of a Brave New totalitarian state.