Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Ramblin' man

"Ecumenism" was a typical mistake of the ungrounded utopianism of the Sixties. It has led to a world where truth is considered bad form and where nice feelings are the coin of the realm.

Evita Bergoglio, the friggin' Pope of Rome for God's sake, found himself unable to speak frankly to Lutherans in his city because he cares about being applauded more than he cares about the one thing for which he was elected, to maintain the clear truth and unity of the Catholic Faith, which any reader of the Catechism can discover for himself.

People died for beliefs that His Adorableness treats with barely disguised contempt.

In typical fashion, while faux-theatrically describing himself as humble and limited, he makes himself and his own opinions paramount and primary. Seemingly every time he opens his pontifical mouth, he wounds the people whose shepherd he is supposed to be, for the sake of currying momentary favor with outsiders in his presence. Talking to strangers he is all goo. Talking to his own, especially those who work for him, he is a priggish scold.

He is deeply dishonest. Anyone who knows my life story will be as astonished as I am that I have the nerve to find myself ashamed of him.


The internet is full of LibWestern gush about Paris, how croissants and champagne and tinkling out Imagine on the ivories and "love" are going to overcome the hateful terrorists...who are never accurately and honestly named for what they are, just the latest edition of the 1400 year old Army of Allah.

People ramble on how love and light and peace and kittens always win. In what scenario? What planet have they been living on? Have they never read a history book? It is deeply creepy.

When confronted with bloodthirsty Brown savages, they collapse in high-minded pacifism, but uncooperative Christian bakers and photographers provoke them to paroxysms of ire.

It enrages me that people who are the descendants and the beneficiaries of a most extraordinary civilization, built over centuries by sweat and blood, are so dickless, entitled, stupid and deeply unworthy.


A confession. During my tenure with Mr B I have come to be quite fond of cheap and chilled Cabernet Sauvignon.


Childless though I be, when I see parents on TV or movies portrayed as the placating prisoners of their children's moods, it offends me.


I finally found some mincemeat for holiday pie. No mean feat. A disappearing part of an old-fashioned culture. Opened the jar and the sharp rich smell brought back decades of Thanksgivings and Christmases.


Time now for sleep.


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