Tuesday, September 30, 2014


While great saints and scholars and mystics and martyrs are completely forgotten, and when even some local churches abandon the names of the Saints who inspired the construction of the sacred edifice by scratching their names off the stones and replacing them with more with-it monikers such as "The Church of the Three Holy Women" for example, some churches around the world even go to the length of promoting a new type of Saint altogether, one who was never even of the true Catholic Faith.

[If the link shows up in Italian there is a translation option you can utilize.]

When even dubious "revered" men like M.Luther King, a non-Catholic (and whose personal life cannot by any stretch of the imagination be considered exemplary) can now find their faces adorning Catholic places of worship then perhaps even I can begin making advance arrangements for my own canonization.  While travelling some years ago in Loreto, at the church which encases the Holy House, the grinning visage of Mr King was glowering at me at the entrance to that sacred place, a timely reminder that our present woes did not originate with the present pontificate.

The Church is suffering from an illness;  I hope it is not malignant..

M.L. King and his mentor, Stanley Levison


Looking at the bemused faces of those leaving the theatres sponsoring yet another exercise in desperation known as the "Milwaukee Film Festival" brings to mind lots of humorous thoughts.

A little podunk town trying to look big in the eyes of the world by holding a movie festival (can't call it a "film festival" because they don't show films anymore, just videos), featuring the type of junk you wouldn't walk across the street to see and in fact fewer and fewer people even do see.  The lineup of titles offered at the festival is a stark reminder that Amateur Night is still the operative phrase to describe modern screen offerings. Boring, obscure and shoddily-made they elicit "Bravos" from the attendees and organizers who have for a long time forgotten what a good movie is supposed to look like. But selecting such awful stuff and inflicting it on a dazed and jaded public is "the thing to do". The lengths local city boosters will go to to try to make themselves look important is not only pitiful but extremely funny.

But this is not surprising since Milwaukee is very good at self-delusion.  Some years back they re-named their airport from the perfectly fine and appropriate "Mitchell Field" (named after Billy Mitchell) to the more grandiose "Mitchell International Airport"!  This is especially interesting since there are no international flights to or from Milwaukee - but I suppose you can check your luggage through to London when you fly from Milwaukee to a real international airport, like O'Hare in Chicago.

Are all Midwestern towns like this?

Monday, September 29, 2014


On this Michaelmas Day, 2014, it is helpful to remember our Defender in battle.  We are surrounded, our natural leaders have more or less fled and left us to the tender mercies of the despisers of Christ and His Church, we are left with no voice with which to influence those in ecclesiastical power.

But we have St Michael, the Archangel in "his splendor and about him the soldiery of Heaven".(Hilaire Belloc).

Sunday, September 28, 2014


The perpetually outraged Mother Jones, in the person of their co-editor Hannah Levintova, is having another meltdown, this time over the pro-family conference held in Moscow through the 14th of this September (wish I'd been there).  She is so outraged that pro-family, pro natural family to be specific types are joining others of like mind in Moscow to do their bit to encourage larger families with mothers and dads (Good Heavens!) that the poor girl might have to book an appointment with her analyst.

Not only is it in Moscow, but it is being encouraged by the government (President Putin sent messages of goodwill to the attendees), by the churches (in the person of Patriarch Kirill) and by people from all over the world (like Austin Ruse) who are there in attendance, many of them Catholic.  For the collection of nitwits and pederasts who populate the Mother Jones website and the other websites and blogs who share their somewhat peculiar outlook on life, this obviously cannot stand.  And so they have contacted that other paragon of pure virtue, The Human Rights Campaign, to contact the US government to find out if this conference violates the sanctions against Russia imposed by the sodomy-friendly USA and its European puppets.

It is rather funny to watch these characters pulling their hair out, foaming at the mouth and becoming unglued whenever something pro-family, pro-large family, anti-abortion or anti-perversion rears its head.  And in Moscow yet.  And evil Putin is making nice with them.

As Hannah Levintova might say, "Oy vey!"

(H/T to Catholicism.org)

Friday, September 26, 2014

THE SON ALSO RISES (if your father is Joe Biden)

Sonny and Daddy
William Engdahl, always a reliable commentator on the world scene, gives us another glimpse into the blatant corruption of our modern leaders.  It is a must read:


And you can be really corrupt if your Daddy is the Vice President, the same one who receives Holy Communion from craven Cardinals and priests.

Really this would be comical if it wasn't creating more dead bodies and destruction, engineering more hatreds between Catholics and Orthodox, converting ordinary people into drooling psychopaths, enriching the international bankers, giving the despots even more dictatorial power, etc.

Sometimes even I am taken aback at such in-your-face swindling.

Thursday, September 25, 2014


I was just recalling, on this 10th anniversary of his death, my first meeting with Michael Davies, champion of the Ancient Rite of the Catholic mass and indeed champion of everything Catholic.  It was n 1976.  I was visiting some friends in London and had heard about a Saturday "old Mass" being said at Westminster Cathedral which, when hearing that news, I knew I had to attend.

The Mass was not mobbed that day but was well attended.  After the Mass I was milling around outside in front of the Cathedral getting ready to take a few snaps when I was approached by a youngish gentleman in a black suit.  He had I well remember a very friendly grin on his face and insisted on introducing himself and in learning what a young American was doing there at the Latin Mass in the first place.  I had already vaguely heard about Michael at the time but was not I confess overly familiar with his work.  He soon put me right.  I began to ask him all sorts of Catholic questions but his interest at that moment was in finding the nearest pub. We did fine one to his liking after strolling around a bit and once inside had a lunch and a pint or two (the brand of which I left to his judgment).  I seem to remember him spending the better part of the afternoon talking with me in that warm and enthused manner of his.  There was nothing very important for me to do that day so I sat there and listened to his brilliant observations about a myriad of subjects and was entranced by his love of being a Catholic. Our shared love of Belloc and Chesterton was much in evidence.  It was a great day. We parted after exchanging addresses.

I visited London at least a dozen or more times after that and it was almost a certainty that I would always run into him, usually at the Brompton Oratory which had and still has a regular Ancient Rite Mass.  He was always ready with a quip, and I wish I could remember the extremely sardonic one he offered when I was there in 2000 during the presidential election.  For the life of me I cannot recall it but I do recall it had me laughing for weeks.  A few years earlier I had stopped in London on my way to Germany where I was to begin making a documentary film and found out about an obscure little church I think in the south of London which had the old Mass.  Would I again find Michael there when I attended.  Yes, I did.  And he was as jovial and sarcastically funny as ever.

We corresponded from time to time and shared a few telephone calls and it always amazed me how willing he was to talk with anyone who showed an interest in the things of the Faith that interested him.  As his fame grew I bothered him less and less, thinking he was probably overwhelmed by correspondence.  I regret that now but perhaps it was for the best; surely even he was deserving of some quiet time.

I did once have a disagreement with him on a certain point and wrote him a letter about it but it was something that I really should not have undertaken.  He was far more well-versed in such Church matters than I was.  He was slightly miffed, I think, but never seemed to show it when we would invariably bump into each other in England.

Or in Chicago, as it would happen.  Michael had been invited to a Catholic conference in that city to give a talk and to receive an award of appreciation for his work in defense of the Faith.  Michael's very charming wife was also with him there. I attended the conference not only to hear his talk but also to be present at another award of appreciation which was to be given to the late Brother Francis, MICM, one of the founders of the famous Saint Benedict Center and a collaborator with the very well-known priest Father Leonard Feeney.  I was interested in seeing both these indefatigable Catholic gentlemen together on the same podium because it was known that Michael was not altogether comfortable, like many, with the dogma Extra Ecclesiam nulla salus, which was the dogma that Saint Benedict Center had been defending since the 1940s, the defense of which put them square into the sights of the liberal/Americanist wing of Catholicism, at that time headed by the strange Richard Cardinal Cushing.  Since Brother Francis was the philosopher at the Center and an outstanding theologian in his own right I was frankly excited to see these two gentlemen meet and, hopefully, discuss this vital topic.  After all the Center had suffered all the torments that would later be applied to Archbishop Marcel Lefebvre even before that venerable Archbishop had even been heard of, and since Michael was a valiant defender of Lefebvre it seemed fortuitous that these two fine minds and solid Catholics were to be on the same platform in Chicago.

I well remember the stunning introduction to the presentation of Brother Francis' award given by Father Charles Poirer in which he detailed some of the little-known facts about the unspeakable persecutions the Center, and Brother Francis and Father Feeney in particular, were subjected to. The audience sat spellbound at these revelations, even while Brother Francis sat quietly and serenely, making no effort to call attention to his presence.  As we listened to this amazing story I would occasionally glance at Michael, for I felt certain he had never heard these stories, much like the rest of us, and that it would help him to have a clearer understanding of the doctrinal issues for which the men at the Center suffered so terribly.  I could see that Michael was at first uncomfortable, then deeply moved, by the introduction.

It was with great joy that I later saw these two men sitting together, at long last, quietly discussing what must have been issues that went very deep.  I was not privy to the conversation, obviously, but I cannot but believe that good came from it.

I believe my last meeting with Michael Davies occurred in 2002 on another trip to London, and another visit to the Brompton Oratory.  I saw no indication of the illness which would eventually claim his life and take away from us one of the most erudite spokesmen for Catholicism that it has ever been my privilege to meet.

He had no use for banality which is why he would travel miles to attend the only Mass he knew that would allow him quiet contemplation before God.  And even now the body of work he has left us, in books, articles and pamphlets, not to mention recorded talks, is still able to guide us on a surer course, especially when it comes to that Thing he fought for so bravely, the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass in its purest and most ancient form.

We need to thank him for that.

Tuesday, September 23, 2014


Pope Benedict contributing to the Church's disgrace
Like many I have lost count of how many stupidities, boring platitudes, retreats in the face of The Enemy and banalities have dripped off the tongue of the garrulous Cardinal of New York, Timothy Dolan.  Pope Benedict will have to wear the shame of this disgraceful appointment all the way to his grave.  That Benedict would entrust the New York archdiocese to a man like Timothy Dolan is incomprehensible and insulting.

In a recent interview the Cardinal explains with refreshing candor that he very idea of refusing Communion to public sinners is something "for the past", something he and his brother Bishops believe is not worth "going to the mat" for.


I'm afraid I have lost patience completely with the Cardinal and no longer feel constrained to speak of this in soft tones.  He is a disgrace to the cloth he wears and the sooner he is gone from New York the better.

But given that his Roman boss - demonstrably - is not terribly enthused about the jots and tittles of clear Christian teaching on such unimportant points as the proper worship due to Jesus Christ, or the morals of those souls under his care, it is doubtful we will be seeing the exit of Dolan any time soon.  I have come to believe that even if His Eminence was found to have raped and murdered his private secretary and wiped her blood off on his window curtains that the Pope would still allow him to sit in office.

May God have mercy on his Church while such clerics are allowed to run roughshod over the hearts and minds of simple Catholics.

Dolan won't go to the mat for Our Lord; I wonder if Our Lord will go to the mat for him when the time comes.  One has to wonder about this because his tenure in New York has been utterly disgusting.