Saturday, March 30, 2013


All comedies are ended by a marriage. Byron

Editor's Note: We're interrupting our series of survival tips to reply to a recent email we received. We'll resume the series next week.


A few weeks ago you talked about the "rumor" about the recent ordination of a married man. I can tell you it is not a rumor. It is a solid fact... What does your fancy New Lay Movement say about this? Would you attend his mass? Would you go to him for confession? Is this what you wanted?

There's a big difference between approval and prediction. It was a no-brainer to see this event coming, and we predict it will be repeated in the near future. The sede cult masters have made a mess of things. In Sedelandia anyone can be a bishop for the asking, and there are no real standards for becoming a priest (even high-school drop outs make it). Since the sedes operate outside the institutional Church, all the old disciplinary laws have necessarily gone out the window. Moreover, standard sede theory encourages all manner of twisted justifications for anomalous practices. Married priests, then, are a logical result of sede polity.  It's a wonder why this hasn't happened more often.

Now, as far as we're concerned, if a chapel can stomach a married priest, then that's their business. Most Traddies have had bad experiences with their unmarried clergy, so we can imagine that some Catholics may be ready to take their chances with a married man. For our part, however, we wouldn't have anything to do with him, and we would never, ever support him with our money.

Our aversion isn't based on moral or theological grounds. Our objection is cultural.  Trad World is already so bizarre that, except for a few externals, it scarcely resembles the pre-conciliar Church. Adding married clergy to all the lunatic novelties invented by the cultists would effectively erase the Latin Catholicism of memory.  The Traddie movement would end up looking something like the Old Catholic Church. At that point, the Restoration is moot. Traddies will have to convert if they wish to belong to genuine Roman Catholicism. 

So, succinctly put, our answer is no, this is not what we want. Married priests ordained late in life without the benefit of rigorous, formal training are no better than the malformed completers who now afflict the laity.  Holiness, good intentions, and love of the faith are but a small part of the Catholic priesthood, and, as Traddies know from experience, these qualities are often missing in their clergy. Formation is almost everything. (The Readers would be especially opposed to married clergy owing to their ignorance of Latin: if the current sede boobies have such a bad grasp of the Church's language, just think how ignorant these married priests are! Why, they'd make the severely Latin-challenged Blunderer look like Cardinal Bacci!)

Decent Catholics will stay clear of married priests, just as they will avoid the cult masters. Like the Novus Ordo, both are just plain wrong and should never enjoy anyone's financial support.

Starve the Beast, married or celibate.

Saturday, March 23, 2013


Editor's Note: The second in a series on how to keep your faith and conscience intact when you must enter a Sedelandia cult center.



For the decent Catholic, second to the sermon -- or, as a commenter has recently suggested, "the presentation," although even that word is too grand for what issues from the cult pulpits -- the most dangerous place is the sede confessional. As a rule, you are cautioned to stay away and seek the sacrament of penance from the SSPX or from an independent priest not affiliated with the sede cult masters. (Be certain, too, that the independent priest did not receive his orders from "One-Hand Dan," for until someone with genuine learning and brains opines on the validity of priestly ordination with one hand, "One-Hand's" episcopacy is not certain.) In addition, remember that none of these men enjoys a proper formation*, so your innermost secrets may never be truly sealed. However, if you must seek absolution from marginal figures who have rendered the sacrament odious, you should follow these steps to obtain short shrift:

Upon entering the confessional, disguise your voice by speaking very low, but not so low as to arouse curiosity. These reptiles recognize the voices of penitents and are waiting to ply every trick in their dirty bag. In making your confession, do not under any circumstances reveal specific details. Stick to number and species only, and never disclose anything they can use against you. Remember: they know who you are, and if they don't recognize you right off the bat, they'll be trying their level best to uncover your identity throughout your confession: be brief and to the point. Avoid as best you can any of their attempts to extract detailed information or to get you to speak at length. (If they become too intrusive, leave, so as not to participate in their sin.) To forestall all untoward events, you should position yourself at the very end of the confession line. That strategy allows you to dampen illicit curiosity and to assure that no addled but prying cultist remains behind to listen in and report your identity to the cult masters.

* We once again recount a personal anecdote: Some years ago, one of the sede kingpins was the substitute celebrant at a cult satellite chapel. That Sunday, a particularly long line had formed outside the confessional as the faithful took advantage of a visiting clergyman to unburden their souls. During the "presentation," this malformed excuse for a Catholic priest chided the faithful for repeatedly confessing the "same sins of impurity": one could almost hear a gasp as many an ashen-faced  parishioner slowly glanced around, horrified, in a panicked search for any accusing eyes that may have seen him or her waiting in line. In the old days, this reprobate would have been denounced to the chancery for appropriate discipline and retraining. But those are the days of yesteryear.

Saturday, March 16, 2013


Plan your moves. Be ready to move out quickly without endangering yourself if 
the enemy is near you. Use all your senses to evaluate the situation. Note sounds and smells. Be sensitive to temperature changes. Be observant. U.S. Army Survivor Manual

From the looks of it, we'll have to kiss goodbye our hopes for Restoration and Good Riddance:  Jorge "Pope Pancho" Bergoglio turns out to be just another tradition-hating, sob-sister, Jesuit social worker hell-bent on propping up the creaking conciliar dispensation. There's still something wrong, aliquid pravi. (If you have any doubts, just wait for the ouster of conservative-leaning papal M.C. Guido Marini.) Maybe the shrewd, hard-ball playing bureaucrats of the Roman Curia will stymie the plot to break them, and P2 [read "P squared"] will take a powder like his predecessor.  

Until the day when we have another opportunity for Restoration and Good Riddance, many traditional Catholics will have to struggle to keep their faith and consciences intact under the malignant cure of disordered, malformed, irregular, and money-mad sede clergy.  So, for those folks who (mistakenly) think they've got to endure the sede circus, we're starting a new series -- a kind of survival guide for the Traddie perplexed, so they don't lose their savings and souls while visiting the cult's chapels.  Each week, we'll post one easy-to-remember-and-practice survival tip to keep you from falling prey to wily priest craft.



As a traditional Roman Catholic, you know wandering bishops and uncardinated priests have no jurisdiction. Without this knowledge, you would probably feel defenseless against their toxic appeals for obedience and alms. You might even believe they are the Church. But when you remember that they have no authority at all, you will feel safe and secure while you assist at their chapels. You may freely ignore their public utterances. You may rest guilt-free as you refuse to sip from the cup of venom they offer. Below is a pew-expedient tool you can use to avoid their lethal bite.

Flesh-colored, foam earplugs and small book of Catholic prayers will preserve your faith and conscience during a cult master's sermon. First, discreetly insert the ear plugs snugly into both ears as the cult master slithers to the pulpit. Verify that all ambient noises are dampened. Next, with your Sunday Missal open on your lap, place the small prayer book on top. If necessary, cup your palms around the sides to obscure the view in case any cult-followers are spying on you. You can identify these creatures by their glassy-eyed stares and the thick drool trickling from the sides of their open mouths. (Don't step in the puddle when you leave.) Look placidly up to the pulpit until the sermon begins. Then, slowly look down and begin reading silently from your prayer book. Occasionally look up to the pulpit, and then resume reading. Continue until you observe that the sermon has ended. At that point, you may circumspectly remove the earplugs, making sure you don't draw attention to yourself; softly close and cautiously put away the prayer book. You have now preserved your faith, conscience, and pocketbook during the most dangerous time of your visit to cultilandia.

Saturday, March 9, 2013


A bishop then, must be blameless…He should rule well his own household. I Timothy (CCD Revision) 

Of late, self-righteous Trad-World has been squirming in a moral funk over rumors of the ordination of a married man.  Strange, then, that amid all the scandalized hand wringing, no one has yet piped up to assign the blame for this latest indignity and, indeed, for all the upheaval of the last few years.

There's no doubt about who is responsible. Back in 2009, and even in late 2008, if "One-Hand Dan" had managed the SGG School crisis with finesse, none of this would have come to pass. What's more, the sede-Traddie movement wouldn't be in its death throes, disemboweled by razor-sharp revelations and maddened by withdrawal of financial support.

Sure, there are many players involved whose individual decisions and reactions helped shape the irremediable mess in Traddielandia today. However, irrespective of the side on which you may stand in this dispute, you don't have to be a rocket scientist to trace the deadly sequence of events right back to little, ol' "One-Hand." 

All "One-Hand Dan" had to do was to conjure up his sense of self-preservation and invoke his corporate authority. (He has no ecclesiastical authority, mind you.)  He could have intervened in the administration of SGG School to right the many wrongs. Furthermore, he could have reined in his blundering and alienating sidekick. There has been widespread conjecture as to why he so uncharacteristically failed to act in his own self-interest. Whatever the reason, be it sinister or silly, "One-Hand's" catastrophic misjudgment affected more than the weekly collection and the bamboozled yokels who keep spinning to nowhere on the cult's hamster wheel.

Think of all the grief he's brought down on the empty heads of his clerical crew. Then consider how he could have spared his collaborators if only he had done what would have been expected -- and required -- of a secular manager in similar circumstances. The Blunderer's sham scholarship and his less-than-amateur Work of Human Hands would never have undergone the rigorous necropsy that appeared on this blog. The rector's embarrassing shortcomings and the moronic pesthouse antics would have escaped the glaring light of continuing exposés. Traddielandia would not have learned about malformed completers who forgot the consecration, couldn't perform a graveside service, had difficulty blessing holy water, invented new mortal sins, and mercilessly harried "seminarians." Chapels wouldn't have dissolved or split. Family members wouldn't have turned against each other.  Most significantly, the ultimate "home alone" recourse -- the ordination of a married man -- would have been unthinkable.

Exposing his confederates to hostile attack is "One-Hand's" signature accomplishment. Whatever you may think of B16, you've got to give him credit for bailing out when he realized the harm he caused by failing to manage. But then, unlike sede panjandrums, B16 is smart, well educated, and self-aware. It's a tragedy that the traditional movement lies gasping in the hands of clueless third-raters crippled by so many toxic limitations.

All in all, we should be grateful, for "One Hand's" failure did help us recognize now-ruined Traddielandia for what it truly is: a mirthless gulag guarded by petty, rent-seeking clericalists from which every traditional Catholic with a conscience must escape. 


Saturday, March 2, 2013


Oh-oh, yes I'm the great pretender,/Adrift in a world of my own. The Platters

Over the last few years, Pistrina has argued -- and demonstrated --  that Traddielandia's clerical clowns are poorly educated and intellectually sloppy despite their pretense to pass themselves off as rare scholars and profound theologians. 

Today, however, we'll let someone else make that point, just to show our bewitched, cultist adversaries that we're not alone in our assessment of these sorry poseurs. 

On February 11, the rector appeared on a Restoration Radio broadcast discussion  about the resignation (sic!) of B16. The program got off on the wrong foot almost immediately, when neither the host nor the rector could get his dates right.  Here's what a Top Commenter wrote in response to the interview:
Ok....(Sigh) What is most disturbing is the fact that your history is completely incorrect. You and Bp. Sanborn state that the last pope to resign was almost a thousand years ago, Pope Gregory XII. Bp. Sanborn states that it was probably the 11th century and was possibly succeeded by Benedict the IX. You are correct in saying that Gregory the XII was the last to resign, however it was during the Great Western Schism and he renounced the throne at the Council of Constance for the good of the Universal Church in 1415 - 598 years ago. Pope Martin V was elected and Gregory was appointed Dean of the College of Cardinals. How is that you have bishops, priests and laity who cannot do the proper research to give credibility to your arguments? If you cannot even get the history correct with the power of the internet, then how are you to be taken seriously when it comes to more intricate matters? 
In our view, the better-informed lay commenter was overly kind by merely exposing the rector's fractured chronology: There was more wrong with the content of his remarks than missing a key date by 400 years. After the rector fixed the previous abdication  in the 11th century (regrettably, he used the word  "resigned"), the emboldened wandering bishop went on to enlarge upon the circumstances by adding a garbled summary * of the history of Pope Gregory VI and his godson Pope Benedict IX. What's ironically sidesplitting is that, as he almost too eagerly interposed some historical precedents for papal abdication, without realizing it, he actually did summarize (albeit imperfectly) the basic facts of Gregory XII's abdication, even going so far as to reference the Council of Constance -- the 16th ecumenical council that famously** ended the Great Western Schism.***

Now, most people with a smattering of college-level ecclesiastical history are at least aware the Council of Constance took place in the early 15th century (1414-1418). As an aside, you should know that in seminaries and Catholic universities in the old days, the Great Western Schism and its resolution were always on the syllabus, and standard textbooks usually dedicated chapter to the period. Therefore, anyone with a lively mind and a mildly informed sense of Church history would have immediately realized his earlier misreckoning after recalling a papal abdication in connection with the well-known council. Yet there wasn't the least shock of recognition in the rector's voice; no,  not the tiniest sign of a connection.  Even worse, it sounded, to our ears, as though he goofily considered the 15th-century events antecedent to the last abdication before B16's.

Top Commenter hit the nail on the head: None of the clerical cartel can be taken seriously. Not on church history. Not on una cum. Not on the crisis. Not on the liturgy. (Especially not on the liturgy!) Not on anything at all, big or small. The clownish cartel members seem not to care about getting anything right. They inhabit an alien and distant "let's pretend" universe of their own. There they compose a directionless mutual-admiration society of underachieving make-believers who are strangers to excellence. They know their empty-headed followers -- a rum, slack-jawed bunch -- won't care either; so why do "the proper research to give credibility to [their] arguments"?

To underscore the point, we'd like to dabble in a little imaginative guesswork of our own -- a little Derrida-do, if you will, based on the rector's own discourse. For whatever such fanciful exercises in hierarchy-overturning are worth, they may help rid us of the now false binary opposition of ecclesia docens: ecclesia docta. (The sede jesters, as we all now know, don't have the right equipment upstairs to teach anybody,  so until the Restoration, the mentally stable laity may use their own lights, thank you.)

Let's start with the rector's declaration in the interview that he learned of the abdication on the morning of February 11 from watching the AP. While we have no idea of the exact content of the AP story he saw, we found on the AP's "The Big Story" a report released at 6:22 a.m. that day. Its lead-in reported that B16 was the first pope to abdicate "in nearly 600 years." Many other media outlets reported the same fact, some even giving the exact year. The important thing  here is that the correct time interval between abdications was available on cable, online, and on the air very early on and throughout February 11.  A little care and attention would have saved the day. (If you were going to be interviewed on "radio" about the abdication, wouldn't you have paid close attention to all these historical tidbits? You would've had to suspect that they might come up.  You'd've wanted to look good, right?)

Pace Top Commenter, but there are hints in the broadcast to suggest that, while the rector indeed didn't do "proper research," he might have done some. We suppose this because, in spite of his confusion, several of  his half-remembered  facts -- Benedict IX's appointment "at 20 years old" -- and his misremembered  details -- "both the Roman and Avignon pope resigned in favor of the one elected by the Council of Constance" -- have all the earmarks of someone who hastily and recently skimmed  through a raft of material but couldn't quite keep it straight. (Insufficient background knowledge, perhaps?) In addition, without prompting from the host, the rector seemed, in our estimation, a wee bit too keen to supply other examples, to wit,  a breathless "But there were others [who resigned]," an insistent  "there is precedent."  

But, then again, maybe not. Maybe he thought he could fly blind and still escape withering flak. Very poor judgment, we'd say.

Heaven knows that through many stretches of papal history it's hard to follow the arc of events without a scorecard. Like Lou Costello, even serious, well-educated students of history sometimes find themselves demanding in exasperation, Who's on first⁉  Top Commenter's complaint (and ours, too) is not about human memory and its cold-hearted betrayals. It's about unprofessional standards, about not making the effort to get it right, about gross amateurism, about ersatz competence.****

Why on earth would any sede high-muckamuck consent to do an interview about a Novus Ordo pope's abdication without first having made a thorough, air-tight preparation? It wouldn't have taken too much effort. The internet is bristling with resources that could have been printed out or accessed easily from a smartphone or tablet before or during the interview. (The Wikipedia has a really handy and readable chart that would have saved the rector from Top Commenter's rebuke, Pistrina's scorn, and Trad-World's stinging disappointment.) 

If the rector had wanted to inform -- or to impress -- why didn't he do his homework? Why did he risk certain exposure when he knew unsympathetic adversaries were parsing his every word?

We guess the Platters had the right answer:

 "I seem to be what I'm not, you see." 

Now that's a dead-on, accurate statement. 

*His account is strongly reminiscent of Sellar and Yeatman's 1066 and All That, but without the underlying intelligence, wit, and profound historical awareness.

** We won't lengthen this long post unnecessarily by transcribing the rector's ramblings or providing a historical summary of what really happened. You can listen to Sanborn by clicking on the link in ❡3 above (go to minute 9:37). For excellent short accounts of the two mid-11th-century popes and of Pope Gregory XII and Benedict (XIII), the antipope of the Avignonese obedience, we recommend The Oxford Dictionary of Popes.

***In the face of so much gaseous B.S., we can't resist riffing on a shop-worn Latin adage: nec inscientia, nec peditum celatur.

****The rector's  February 2013 MHT Newsletter gives us yet another instance of his shaky  knowledge of matters papal. In his article, he styles B16 as "a powerless antipope." However, the correct technical definition of antipope is a false claimant of the Holy See in opposition to a pontiff canonically elected (1907 Catholic Enclyclopedia). B16 never opposed a canonically elected rival, for the simple reason that no one else but he was elected in 2005. Even the rector himself, faithful to some form of the materialiter thesis, dutifully affirmed in his interview (minute 6:11) that "what [ B16] did achieve was an election to the papacy." Not knowing the correct significance of a common term of the historian's art is quite simply too embarrassing for words.