Saturday, August 20, 2016


Occasiones non modo accipe, arripe. (Don't just take opportunities: snatch 'em!) Publilius Syrus

Don't say we didn't try!

Last week, we deliberately posted super early about Dannie's plagiarism of  the work of blogger Paul Anthony Jones (click here). Our aim was to give Copycat Dan enough time to pull the second installment of his Latin series from the August 14 bulletin or at least to substitute something original. As much as we enjoy watching "One Hand" stew in his own mess, his shameless behavior discredits all traditional Catholics.

So that's why we attempted — unsuccessfully —to intervene. Other people, you know, judge all traddies against His Lawlessness's bad form.

But Li'l Daniel didn't take our gracious hint. Instead, he doubled down by continuing with Mr. Jones's next two explanations of useful Latin phrases. (Click here for the Aug. 14 bulletin and here for Mr. Jones's post on mental_floss.) The intellectual horror in this case is that not only did Dannie keep on plagiarizing like the week before, but he also perpetuated a gross error.

As we did in our previous post, we won't fault Mr. Jones here either. He's simply an enthusiast with no pretension to deep knowledge. However, he got it very wrong when he suggested that the Latin saying Caesar non supra grammaticos ("Caesar is not above grammarians") originated in a rebuke to the Holy Roman Emperor Sigismund at the Council of Constance in 1414. To the contrary, the phrase has its roots in antiquity, from the reign of Tiberius Caesar (AD 14-37).
The historian Suetonius tells of a persnickety grammarian, one Marcus Pomponius Marcellus, who criticized a word in a speech of Tiberius. In the same way in which addled Gertie apologists for Dannie respond to criticism of their cult master, an imperial toady affirmed that the usage was proper Latin, or if it wasn't, it certainly would be thenceforward. Never at a non-plus, the exacting Marcellus, after calling the brown-noser a liar, admonished the emperor, "For you, Caesar, can grant citizenship to men; you cannot to a word."*
Now, for those of you out in cyberspace who aren't classicists, we can tell you this little episode is very well known among professionals.  In fact, it's famous enough to have been included in Norbert Guterman's popular 1966 Anchor Book of Latin Quotations. And, quite honestly, we can't imagine a serious Latinist's never having heard it once or twice from a fastidious prose-comp prof.

But inasmuch as Dannie and his clown crew haven't been formally schooled in humane languages and literature, none of them could possibly know the true source of the saying.** That very real limitation, therefore, should teach them to stay away from anything that has to do with Latin, either classical or ecclesiastical or dog or pig. Should Dannie ever stop trying to pretend to be someone other than the lout he is, he would spare himself — and traditional Catholics — a load of discomfort.

Accordingly, PL suggests he cancel the third, plagiarized installment. We've posted very early again so he's got plenty of time to do it today to make sure it doesn't appear in the Sunday bulletin for August 21.

Second chances don't come too often. Dannie shouldn't pass this one up.

But since it's probable that His Obtuseness will choose not to answer opportunity's knock, at least let him give poor Mr. Jones credit for his work, amateurish as it is.

We'll all be watching this weekend.

*tu enim, Caesar, civitatem dare potes hominibus, verbo non potes (Brugnoli's edition of De Grammaticis et Rhetoribus, 22, 2; Teubner, 1963).

** Actually, poor Mr. Jones seems to have conflated the elements of the account of Suetonius and the details of the incident at the council, if we are to believe earlier sources. For example, W. F. H. King, adding to the anecdote on Marcellus, recounts the conciliar incident as follows (Classical and Foreign Quotations, # 2534; Whitaker, 1889):

A later Emperor, however, Sigismund I., disclaimed any such absurd limitations and, at the Council of Constance 1414, replied, to a prelate who had objected to H.M.'s grammar, Ego sum Rex Romanus et supra grammaticam, I am the Roman Emperor and am above grammar. (See Menzel, Geschichte der Deutschen, 3d ed. cap. 325; Buchmann, Gefl. W. p. 326 ; and Carlyle's Frederick the Great.) 
Now compare the two accounts we've given to that of  Mr. Jones's post, which Dannie flagrantly appropriated in his  Aug. 14 bulletin:
In a speech to the Council of Constance in 1414, the Holy Roman Emperor Sigismund of Luxembourg happened to use the Latin word schisma, meaning "schism." Unfortunately for him, he muddled up its gender—schisma should be a neuter word, but he used it as if it were feminine. When the error was pointed out to him, Sigismund angrily proclaimed that because he was Emperor, even if the word was neuter (which it was) it would be feminine from now on, at which point one member of the Council supposedly stood and replied, "Caesar non supra grammaticos"—or "the Emperor is not above the grammarians." The phrase quickly became a popular proverbial defence of the importance of good grammar and spelling.
Had Dannie possessed merely a teensy bit of formal training, not only would he have recognized Mr. Jones's apparent conflation of the two anecdotes, but also he would have understood that Caesar non supra grammaticos is a saying, not a quotation. But without an education and disdainful of the stigma of plagiarism, our parroting prelate is doomed embarrass us all by uncritically repeating others.

Dannie and Co. are not the real thing, ladies and gentlemen.

Saturday, August 13, 2016


The chief aim of wisdom is to enable one to bear with the stupidity of the ignorant. The Ring of Pope Xystus 

It's confirmed.

Dannie's weekly bulletin will indeed carry a regular feature about the Latin language (see PL's post of July 10).

The title of Dannie's failed self-rehabilitation effort has, however, metastasized from "Latin Hiding in Plain Sight"  to "Latin for You," which promises to enrich Gerties with "20 Phrases for Daily Life" at what looks like a rate of two phrases per appearance. As with all Wee Dan's ploys to convince his cultlings he's not the ignoramus we've shown him to be, we'll use his series to demonstrate he's every bit the untutored boob we say he is — and worse.

However, before that, indulge us as we point something out: the two paragraphs Dimwit Dan chose for his Aug. 7 bulletin were lifted — cut-and-pasted is more like it —verbatim without appropriate attribution from a mental_floss blog post by Paul Anthony Jones. (Click here and then compare that gentleman's first two pieces with the entries on Dannie's last page found here.)

It's obvious that the $GG strangers to academic standards harbor no respect for intellectual property rights. In addition, their failure to give credit to Mr. Jones provides another witness to malformation in moral theology. Even more telling, their necessary recourse to out-and-out plagiarism from the Web betrays the poverty of their personal resources as well as of their imagination. Less obviously, this disgraceful literary pilferage confirms once more the cult masters' abject unfamiliarity with basic Latin grammar, as we'll presently show.

In explaining his second adage, Mr. Jones writes (and Dannie's bulletin unashamedly apes):
A man described as barba tenus sapientes is literally said to be "wise as far as his beard"—or, in other words, he might look intelligent but he’s actually far from it. 
Mr. Jones, a writer and musician, does not (apparently) claim to be a Latinist. Therefore, we can easily pardon his not knowing that sapientes is plural, so the word could never refer to man. That being the case, an accurate translation is not "wise as far as his beard" but rather something like "sages as far as the beard." Now if the cult masters knew Latin, they would have cured the infelicity by fixing Mr. Jones's explanation.

But, then, if Dannie and Co. knew Latin, there would've been no need to purloin another man's work. The cult masters could've supplied 20 adages of their own, perhaps by consulting Catholic authors. Better yet, they might have chosen effata from their own commonplace books (if, that is, they had received a formal, classical education, where the practice is encouraged).

Had PL had been invited to contribute to Dannie's series, the Readers would've suggested Canis in praesepi ("dog in the manger") as a phrase the groveling Gerties should be using. It's eminently apropos because it perfectly characterizes Wee Dan's behavior a few years ago, when he meddled in the affairs of distant French traditionalists in Chambéry. Without a regular priest to serve their small chapel, they engaged a man who had challenged His Dubiety during the $GG School Scandal. That was too much for pay-back Dannie. Although he couldn't staff the chapel with a valid, residential priest, he nonetheless determined to prevent the community from keeping the good man they had found.

Under coercion, the weakling laity, to their eternal shame, asked the priest to return to his native country. The only good news is that Wee Dan's savage triumph over the consciences of others was short lived: A while later, the collaborationist French "priest" who enabled Dannie to pressure those gutless laymen broke with "One Hand." Now, thank goodness, the Wee One's out of France, and the French are out of his malicious reach.* Sadder but wiser, they learned the perils of associating with ill-educated American spoilsports.

. . . . . . . . 

From e-mail correspondents, we're heard many Gerties who follow PL are beginning to have second thoughts about their "old bishop's (?)" qualifications to speak about anything related to the authentic Church. 

Now that's the kind of worldly wisdom that can't be faked by exterior signs!

In fact, the testimonies bring to mind a pearl of Latin sagacity from Cicero, which the cultlings should apply diligently to their daily cult life: Posteriores enim cogitationes, ut aiunt, sapientiores solent esse, "to be sure, second thoughts, as they say, are usually wiser." 

So get wise, everyone. Heed your second thoughts. Stop putting up with stupidity, and get out of barking Dannie's non-Catholic cult today.

* If the cult masters had also asked us to contribute an adage of our own invention, we'd have submitted the following to describe all the posturing kingpins of the U.S. bishop (?)-led cults : Mitra tenus praesulastri, which we freely render, with some assistance from Tennyson, as "mountebanks with no more sign of prelacy than a miter."

Sunday, August 7, 2016


No rogue like to the godly rogue. Fuller

We are, to quote Hesiod, "in the season of wearisome summertime," with parching Sirius still hard upon us. It's far too hot for a longish post on the hypocrisy, greed, ignorance, and outrageous pretense of the cult curs. So today, we'll keep it short, and then, like our poet, take our ease with "sparkling wine in the shade."

After Dannie returned from his third (!!) vacation to Mexico this calendar year, he whined about "scandalous ordinations" south of the border, as though we gringos didn't have a similar example in the SW Ohio cult. Our good friends in Mexico, you know,  were very offended at the slur, so they asked us to vindicate their beautiful and proud land by reminding everyone of the "ordination" of Uneven-Steven McFaker. Obviously, they deeply resented the imputation that cult-master Dannie was somehow the authority on who's rightly ordained and who's not.

Although we've posted on Uneven's shocking case several times since 2012, a quick reminder is in order, just so everybody realizes that scandal is typical of all Traddilandia and not just limited to one country.
In a nutshell, "One Hand" ordained to the priesthood a man who had not even attended one of Tradistan's so-called seminaries. While living in the state of Washington, Uneven only worked under a former-CMRI "priest," who labored at the same time as a busy "pastor" of a traddie chapel. Uneven then left Washington for short stint of independent study under the benighted Blunderer, before priestly "ordination" by the ever-dubious "One-Hand Dan."
We won't go into how such shoddy "preparation" is completely at odds with the "Tridentine system" Checkie once touted in his monograph "Untrained and Un-Tridentine: Holy Orders and the Canonically Unfit," where the Cheeseball asserts the law demands candidates live in a seminary. (For that discussion, go to our post of February 16, 2014, YE BROOD OF VIPERS.) And we hardly need to say that under no circumstances can Uneven's residence in Washington state or at $GG ever be called a seminary.

All we'll say today is that Uneven Steven's ordination ranks right up there with all the other howlingly scandalous ordinations and consecrations that have disgraced the traditional movement. Maybe — just m a y b e — independent study might have been good enough for a simplex priest, as long as the faithful were advised of his minimal training and properly cautioned after his ordination. However, to pretend that such "training" is equivalent to the demonstrably low level of "schooling" on offer at the inferior cult "seminaries," which at least have some (albeit minuscule) formal structure, is too much to endure on a sweltering day.

Wee Dan's double standards remind us of the fate of those universally disrespected teachers who reply, "Don't do as I do: Do as I say," when challenged for violating the standards they insist their pupils observe. Just as flagrant self-exemption results in loss of authority, Dannie's wanton Tartuffery disqualifies him from making judgments about conditions in Traddilandia. Only depraved cultlings listen to him anyway.

Mexico — and the rest of TradWorld — should join us norteamericanos as we laugh ourselves silly as Li'l Daniel barks alone at the moon.

Sunday, July 31, 2016


No one escapes talking nonsense; the misfortune is to do it seriously. Montaigne

Pistrina is now in its eighth consecutive month of laying bare the idiocies and illiteracies of little Dannie Dolan's dreadfully executed ORDO 2016. (Remember we posted twice in December 2015 just after "One Hand" put his monstrosity on sale.) Throughout the remaining six months of this year-long, monthly series, we'll be featuring, in addition to the usual errors of language and failures of editorial competence, some liturgical blunders.

We're limiting our discussion of these blunders because liturgical details of this sort are highly complex and super technical. However, although they may not matter much to the average layman, they do matter to priests, who are obliged to say the divine office and celebrate Mass correctly. (They also hope the ordo they use is both accurate and not misleading.)

But before we get into this week's examples of ineptitude, we need to pause at mid-year to ask, Who really produced the Iliad of errors that the cult put out as its ORDO 2016? All along we've assigned the blame for all the boo-boos to "One-Hand Dan," and rightly so, because the embarrassing project was issued as $GG's ordo, and Wee Dan is MR. $GG.

But, let's all get real, shall we? Wee Dan hasn't the pluck, work ethic, or background to assemble and transcribe a full year's worth of text from old ordines. True, he's ignorant enough to commit all the blunders we've uncovered, but we can't see his sitting down and doing all the grunt work to grind out 110 word-processed pages of trash on his own. The guy doesn't drive a car, so how could we expect him to produce camera-ready copy for an error-infused ordo?

No way. Someone else has to be co-responsible for the mess. But who?

Checkie comes first to mind, primarily owing to all the bad Latin and all the editorial inconsistencies. But we can't envision the Cheeseball's knuckling down to compiling an ordo when he'd much prefer dabbling in his smarmy "Internet apostolate" on YouTube. (It's Tradistan's version of "Pee Wee's Playhouse.") So, more likely, we'll have to put the finger on one of the Young Fakers at $GG.  For obvious reasons, it could never be that hopeless yokel Lurch. However, it might be either Uneven-Steven or, with infinitely greater probability (considering Uneven's irregular "formation" [LOL]), the Forlorn Finn (unless the "principal" was drafted to do the job).

Isofar as we haven't yet confirmed the co-compiler's alter ego, we decided to invent a name so Dannie can share the blame with some concrete personage. Nothing apropos came to our minds until one of our learned commenters, the superb Tarquinius, reminded us of the late Umberto Eco's feral character Salvatore of Montferrat (appearing in the dazzling postmodern novel, The Name of the Rose). The narrator's description of this man-beast's speech fits the $GG co-compiler to a tee:
...I could never understand then, what language he spoke. It was not Latin, in which the lettered men of the monastery expressed themselves, it was not the vulgar tongue of those parts, or any other I had ever heard...I realized Salvatore spoke all languages, and no language. Or, rather, he had invented for himself a language...but [it was] precisely the Babelish language of the first day after the divine chastisement, the language of primeval confusion. Nor, for that matter, could I call Salvatore's speech a language, because in every human language there are rules and every term signifies ad placitum [= "by agreement"] a thing, according to a law that does not change...And yet, one way or another, I did understand what Salvatore meant...(pp. 46-47 of W. Weaver's 1983 translation).
Salvatore of Montferrat it is, then! Simply perfect for the blithering idiot who helped put together Dannie's disaster! For short, we'll call him "Silly Sal" from now own.

With the co-compiler's name settled, it's time for a quick look at Dim Dan's and Silly Sal's goofs for this month. We'll begin with what we think is a really easy-to-understand liturgical faux pas (at least on the part of these Tradistani fanatics): While examining Dannie's ORDO 2016, we Readers were struck by a note subjoined to four First Saturdays (Jan. 2, Feb. 6, Sep. 3, and Dec. 3), which allowed a votive Mass of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Since we hadn't seen such a note in the pre-1955 American ordines in our collection, we were puzzled — until an authentic liturgical expert informed us that the practice originated in the 1960 (!!!) rubrics (cf. NR, #385 [c]).

Looks like someone got something confused.

Dumbo Dannie's and Silly Sal's liturgical confusion, as usual, extends to Latin usage.  Consider this garbled note for March 25 (p. 35):

Annuntiatio BMV die 4 Aprilis translatum

Although the text is sheer nonsense, here's one literal translation (if such a thing is possible here):

The Annunciation of the BVM from the 4th day of April a transferred thing*


H-E-L-L-O-O-O,  S-A-L-V-A-T-O-R-A-A-A-Y-Y-Y-Y...

O.K., O.K. O.K., you rabid, depraved cultlings!

We hear your guttural protests that Dannie's and Silly Sal's horrific Latin is still intelligible. Fine by us, then! We'll concede the Latin doesn't have to be grammatically or syntactically correct in order to figure out that the Feast of the Annunciation for the year 2016 is transferred to April 4 owing to Good Friday's falling on March 25.

HOWEVER, we do insist: if you're producing a Latin ordo, then the instructions shouldn't be written in dog Latin. We affirm they should be written in the Latin of the "lettered men of the monastery," and not in Salvatore of Montferrat's somehow decipherable gibberish.

Apparently what happened was that Silly Sal and Dimwit Dannie confused the verbal formulae for the starting- and end-points of a transferred feast. And since neither understands Latin, they used the wrong verb form — probably because their models were abbreviated, and our two sede clowns didn't have the requisite knowledge to expand them correctly. We'll explain s briefly as we can:
Translatum is a (neuter) perfect passive participle meaning "(having been) transferred," the neuter noun festum ("feast") — or even officium ("office") — being the understood antecedent. In the competently executed ordines of the past, it's used on the day to which (viz., Apr. 4) the feast is transferred, not on the day from which it's transferred (viz., Mar. 25). Silly Sal and Dannie, copying from a good model, get this right on April 4 with their Transl. ex 25 Mar. (= translatum ex 25 Martii, "transferred from March 25"). Inasmuch  as they were content to reproduce the abbreviated phrase of their original, they dodged a bullet there.
As for the gobbledegook they printed for March 25, we have no idea how they could have botched it so grotesquely. In a number of American ordines, we've seen a note something like the following: Fest(um) Annuntiat(ionis) B(eatae) M(ariae) V(irginis) transf(ertur) in  [arabic numeral] April(is) — "the Feast of the Annunciation of the BVM is transferred to the xth of April."
The question is: Why didn't these Bozos just reproduce, with the appropriate date change, that abbreviated text instead of trying to make up their own? Maybe they were trying to show off or to differentiate their edition from other editions. Who knows what goes on in these morons' minds? The better question, however, is How did they make such a galactic blunder if they had models in front of them?

One possibility is they might have confused the letter f in the abbreviation transf for the letter l in the abbreviation Transl, and as a result fell flat on their ignorant faces as they tried to spell the word out. To be sure, if either one of the idiots had studied first-year Latin, he would have sensed something was wrong since Annuntiatio is feminine and therefore couldn't be modified by the neuter translatum.

Their ignorance of basic Latin as well as their unfamiliarity with liturgical-Latin usage also caused another HUGE error — the word die in the ablative case (the "from" case in its true ablative function).  First off, these two knuckleheads didn't have enough sense to realize that in a liturgical note like this, you're pointing TO a future date, so the ablative is wrong. Furthermore, the blunder shows Dannie and Silly Sal aren't familiar with standard rubrical texts where the usual idiom "to transfer to" is transferre in + the accusative case.** Accordingly, if they had to insert the Latin word for "day" (as do some liturgical books), they should have written "in diem 4 Aprilis."

PL has said it a thousand times, but we'll say it again. Little Dannie Dolan and his whole cult crew are faking it. They're trying to trick you into believing they're the Church's last stand so you'll hand over your money to keep the crumbling cult center afloat. It's a sure bet that if he's wrong about the liturgy, he's wrong about theology. You can put an end to all Wee Dan's confounded babbling about stuff he knows nothing about:


*Of course, you could argue that, by translating it as "the Annunciation of the BVM on the 4th day of April [is] a transferred thing," you get something that very distantly approaches sense. But that's a laughable stretch. Besides, no Catholic liturgist has ever written such a barbarity. The shades of Gavantus would shriek, no doubt.

** Here are only a few of many, many examples culled almost at random from the literature, which will illustrate how ignorant Dumb Dannie and Silly Sal are of liturgical Latin usage. In the Rubrics we find the following: transfertur in primam diem and transfertur in Feriam secundam sequentem. Among liturgical writers we find transferenda sunt in aliam diem (de Herdt), transferenda sunt in proximiorem insequentem diem (Wuest),  transferatur in aliam diem and transfertur in 25 junii (Callewaert), and in quam diem festa transferri debeant (Wapelhorst).  In the Roman Missal we find transferenda sit in Dominicam majorem. Some authors (v.g., Wuest and Bouvry) occasionally use ad instead of in, but the object of the preposition is always an accusative. It's as plain as the nose on your face (unless you're Salvatore of Montferrat, that is): Dannie and Co. don't really study the liturgy or else they would've correctly used this very common liturgical expression. All they really can do is put on dolly-dress-up shows, for which you don't need any Latin or professional rubrical knowledge.

Saturday, July 23, 2016


Editor's Note: The Readers have received heavy e-mail traffic this summer about one of the phrases we've been using lately. Since the following inquiry is typical, we thought we ought to supply a more public answer, in case others had the same question.

PL or Readers

You keep praising priests who have "been through the system" over the sede's. What system are you talking about? Do you mean a tridentine seminary? How can that be if they don't exist? (Don't get angry. This is NOT an attack. I want to understand what you mean.)

The only time we become angry is when we learn of additional abuses at the hands of the money-grubbing cult masters and their malformed "clergy." (Our latest ire-raising investigation concerns "The Case of the Purloined Chalice." We hope to report on it in the future.)

Our correspondent's question's a good one, and from the volume of mail on the same topic, it's worth a dedicated post, particularly since we hadn't considered the possibility the phrase wasn't self-explanatory.

By "the system," we mean day-to-day Roman polity, the Latin Church's distinct way of managing ecclesiastical affairs, which is only understood by having participated in — by having gone through — the institutional Church. Contrary to what the cult fibbers want you to believe, not everything was lost after the Vatican II catastrophe. A large portion of the bureaucratic mores and folkways —many of which had been transmitted directly and without interruption from ancient imperial times — survived. (Bergie's out to purge those now.)

Those who operate in the post-conciliar Church may no longer be Christian, but they still possess, in virtue of their membership, time-honored know-how and institutional memory. For informed students of organizational theory and behavior, our assertion will come as no surprise.

The sense of how things are done in the Church, an important part of ecclesiastical Romanitas, cannot be mastered without direct and prolonged contact with the Church quâ institution. A formation outside that sphere spawns babbling defectives, who resort to making it all up as they go along. Despite flabby arguments to the contrary, no amount of independent study can compensate for the missing concrete experience.

For that reason, insofar as all the U.S. cults' make-believe "seminaries" have never been part of "the system," none of their malformed completers can be said to possess the appropriate background necessary for the authentic practice of the Catholic priesthood and episcopacy. Therefore, in addition to lacking a commission from the Church, these outsiders haven't the essential cultural profile of a Roman Catholic churchman. The only men in Traddilandia, then, who've "been through the system" are the FSSP, the large majority of SSPX along with many of their former members, and ex-Novus Ordo priests and seminarians who have returned to tradition. Tradistanis don't count!

At this point, the question demanding an answer is whether the senior sede cult kingpins can be regarded as having "been through the system." Right off the bat, Pivvy must definitely be excluded since he's a home-grown product of the ever-alien, completely marginalized CMRI. What then remains is to assess whether Dannie, Big Don, and Phony Tony can be thought of as having "been through the system." To be sure, their online biographies could argue for that status. 
Wee Dan began his priestly studies in 1965 in the Detroit minor seminary and then fled to the Cistercians before he scampered off to Écône, at last receiving, according to nine priests and at least two eyewitnesses, one-handed priestly orders in 1976. Bonehead Tone has a marginally better record, managing to get (only heaven knows how) a bachelor's from the Milwaukee seminary in 1973, spending a couple years with the Cistercians, and then somehow making it into Écône, with priestly ordination in 1977.  Big Don, a.k.a. "Tradzilla," outshines the dullard Checkie: he graduated cum laude in classics from the Brooklyn seminary college in 1971, entered Écône in the same year, and was finally ordained a priest in 1975.
But a closer analysis of their downmarket curricula vitæ is in order.

We'll start with the dumbest of the Terrible Trio. In his Wikipedia bio (autobiography?), there is absolutely no mention of Deficient Dan's receiving an undergraduate credential, so we may infer he lacks a degree. Furthermore, by his own admission, he had to use Waldo Sweet's much maligned textbook to get enough Latin to squeak into Écône. (Question: Why didn't he use Scanlon and Scanlon? Too challenging?)

He was therefore an academic outsider when he arrived in Switzerland, where, in Dan's time there, the archbishop was struggling to cobble together something that remotely resembled a Catholic seminary. Consequently, we may safely conclude that Li'l Daniel, with his exceedingly  spotty formation, was never really "in the system." At best, the Wee One had his runny nose pressed against the steamy window as he longingly peered in from the outside on his tippy-toes. 

In contrast to "One Hand's" lack of credentials, Checkie's and the Donster's undergraduate leaving-certificates from diocesan seminaries would seem to qualify them as having been "in the system." The considered short answer, however, is, not quite. Tony Baloney was just 21-22 years of age when he completed his seventies-era Milwaukee schooling, and Big Don probably about the same when he finished his bachelor's.

To really have been "in the system," you've got to devote several adult years on the inside, internalizing its ways, absorbing the organizational lore. Donnie and the Cheeseball, however, spent their formative early adult years only at newly established Écône and in the nascent U.S. SSPX, when things were still very much in flux. 

As Bp. Andrés Morello, a former SSPXer, has written of his own experiences in those early years, the quality of formation he received back in the magnificent Argentine seminary he attended before entering the SSPX was far superior to that offered at Écône. From what we've learned, it was only in the late 1970s and early 1980s that the seminary found its firm footing. (That's why the younger members of the "Nine" who studied at Écône are so much better prepared academically and culturally.) Accordingly, we're forced to conclude that Tony Baloney and Big Don, while light years ahead of "One-Hand Dan," cannot themselves be regarded as having "been through the system." At best, we may say they had some contact with it, but not enough to transform them into anything like genuine Catholic clergy.

What, you may be asking at this point, is the practical value of all this for the morally centered, cult-hating trad, lay or "clerical"?

In our view, there are two lessons.

The first is for the lay leaders of independent chapels looking for a priest or hoping to replace malformed cult "clergy": interview only former Novus Ordites who have embraced tradition, and never consider any candidate from one of the hyper-inferior sede vocational-training programs.  If you're concerned about the validity of these superior candidates' orders, don't be. There are many such clergy available who have been conditionally ordained by traditional bishops who possess multiple lineages; therefore, the threat of invalidity is greatly mitigated. Remember: the cult kings can boast of but one line, that of Thục. And as in the case of "One Hand Dan," a possible defect may have vitiated the validity of holy orders coming from him.

The second lesson is for those "priests" whom Tradzilla has targeted for membership in his new organization (that is, if he ever gets around to founding it as he promised way back in May). Why would they want to submit themselves to all the wacko demands Tradzilla will make on them, if he really hasn't "been through the system"? They're better off signing up for that new Pastor Bonus Forum founded by an ex- Novus Ordo nun who served in the institutional Church for many years (click here.)  Having spent quite a bit of time in Italy, this "Arch-Abbess of Tradistan," who's fluent in Italian, has authentic experience, unlike the amateurish Donster.

All the cult meatheads could learn a lot from her. We wish her every success in her effort to organize sede "clergy" under someone who knows the Roman way of getting things done. Besides, there's a lot of Oedipal angst out there that needs Sister's firm hand.

Saturday, July 16, 2016


Did you know we are all the object of another's imagination? Carlos Fuentes

In his July 10 "Bishop's (?) Corner," a mere three months after Wee Dan taunted the Gerties with his defiant announcement, "I am in Mexico for another* quick weekend trip" ("Corner,"  4/10/16),  His Itinerancy bragged he would again "head off to Mexico for the weekend"!

If, for reasons of vain prestige, the Gerties, beset by so many expenses like the prematurely wrecked HVAC system, are willing to pay for all Dan's frequent luxury foreign travel, then we suppose it's their money to waste as they please. It's quite possible, you know, they might enjoy underwriting at great personal sacrifice Dannie's apostolate to nowhere south of the border. (Gertie kids don't need to see the orthodontist anyway: One day, when these twisted offspring finally find adult employment in a carnival freak show, they actually may need to eat an apple through the narrowly spaced bars of their cages.)

But (we feel obliged to ask) would they be so heedlessly generous if they knew that Travelin' Man Dan's Mexican enterprise is on the verge of coming apart?

Pistrina has reliable reports that at least one of the chapels has broken with "One Hand" in disgust. It's only a matter of time before the rupture is formally complete. We surmise that Dannie's flown down to try to keep one or another affiliated chapel from breaking away, too. (And who knows what inducements he's taken along?)

Since we don't have confirmed details, however, we'll have to leave it at that. Nevertheless, "One Hand Dan's" got a full-blown crisis on his hands. As usual, the Gerties will have to cough up the cash — just as they've had to bail out Dysfunctional Dan from all the previous messes he's gotten himself into.

But this time it's not fair. This time it's not the Gerties' fault: they've been taken for a ride.

The 2009 $GG School Scandal was a local disaster arising from within the cult's own community. Consequently, the Gerties' reprehensible decision not to exit with the principled moral majority was their own free choice. By staying, they tacitly agreed to assume the greatly increased burden on their family budgets created by the exodus, including paying the salary of the amazingly-still-employed "principal," who brought on the calamity.  The groveling Gerties were depraved to continue enabling the cult masters after what had happened. Accordingly, since they did so fully aware of the circumstances, they don't deserve any sympathy for the non-stop attacks on their wallets after the decent people had left $GG.

However, the current Mexican crisis is a different ball of wax altogether. In this case, the goofy Gertries merit advice and assistance. They have no idea of what's going on. The image in their mind's eye is one of the Dirtbag enjoying a lavish welcome accompanied by tropical flowers; bright-eyed, colorfully attired señoritas; a spirited, thumping banda del pueblo; and loads 'n' loads of those "savory Mexican dishes" so highly prized in the rodent-infested $GG rectory. When Gerties read Wee Dan's novelistic accounts of his "episcopal progress" through Baja, they most likely imagine happy tradicionalistas gathered together in idyllic harmony around the old gringo "bishop (?)."

Beguiled by that imaginative, palm-tree-pocked traddie Arcadia, which Dan has invented to assure frequent tropical vacations, the Gerties may not begrudge His Spendthriftiness the excessive airfare and lodging expenditures as long as so many of the "less fortunate" are delighted to have the scum bucket in their midst. Furthermore, let's not forget that when Dannie got back from his winter Mexican holiday, he gave the cultlings fair warning of his intention to "get out each month and share the [Gerties'] wealth." It's entirely possible they might have agreed with the prodigal prelate's conclusion that "[w]e have so much at St. Gertrude the Great." (Click here for our post.)

Yet ... just like the neocolonialist yarns he spins when he gets back to the raggedy SW Ohio cult center, the adoring Mexican throngs are imaginary, too. As he's done wherever he ventures, "One Hand" has sown discord, division, and disappointment throughout our good neighbor to the south. Certainly that's not what the bled-dry Gerties bargained for. If he had come clean and told the culties that it's just about ready to blow down there so the trip was necessary, then we'd have kept quiet.

But he didn't.

All that wastefulness is quite beyond imagination. When Dannie gets back on Sunday or Monday, it's time to corner him in his shabby office and have a serious talk. (Watch out for the mice!) Dannie's summer getaway coming so soon after his spring fling has to be the last straw.

Quite possibly, the Gerties may be hesitant to confront him about the real purpose behind His Predacity's latest raid on their family budget. They're still so cult-addled they might believe it was just a routine part of his multinational "apostolate." To gauge his earnestness, they should apply the following test: if Dannie boasts that he went to Mexicali, where the average July high temperature is 108º F, you can be almost certain it was an emergency junket on the Gerties' dime to salvage his all-but vanished influence outside the ratty West Chester industrial park.

The cultmasters must be made to recognize that fixing problems caused by their personality disorders does not fall under the category of a legitimate expense. Surely the hundreds of dollars (or more) for airfare and other travel costs could have been better spent on much-needed repairs or saved for the next maintenance disaster threatening decrepit $GG. The cash-strapped cultlings assuredly cannot afford all this frivolous spending on interpersonal disasters of the Wee One's making.

Stop him now from planning and executing a fall foray into México lindo.

Insofar as Li'l Daniel will never listen to reason, no matter how politely the arguments are framed, the Gerties have but one recourse after he angrily shows them the rickety door:


*Our emphases. Footloose Dan had just come off a winter visit to his buffoon buddy "El Bocón" with his pack of squealing chihuahuas in Juárez (in late February to early March).

Sunday, July 10, 2016


Be not swept off your feet by the vividness of the impression, but say, "Impression, wait for me a little. Let me see what you are and what you represent. Let me try you. Epictetus (Oldfather's translation)

A few weeks ago, the June 5 $GG bulletin led us to guess that Dannie and the Cheeseball had launched a recurring feature about the Latin language in a futile effort to impress the Gerties. The  Dummy Duo was obviously trying to pretend they weren't as ignorant as Pistrina has proved. (Of course, the Readers seized that opportunity to demonstrate once again how clueless those pinheads are about both Latin and English.)

Since then, our conjecture has been confirmed: the Wee One floated a second installment on June 19 and then another on July 3. The pattern suggests he may issue a "Latin Hiding in Plain Sight" article every two weeks in order to offset the Readers' scathing exposés of his and Checkie's miseducation. (We write may because the cultmasters are so disorganized and flakey that anything like sustained effort is beyond their limited capacity.)

For the life of us, we can't see why Dannie and Bonehead Tone keep trying to make an impression with their non-existent "learning." Every time we catch them (they should know by now), we "put it out on Front Street," as the kids used to say. Dirtbag Dan and Phony Tony should face up to the hard truth that Latin will forever remain out of their reach. Consequently, they should stop embarrassing themselves with these awkward cover-up attempts, not only in the bulletin but in their other print misadventures as well.

Just take Dannie's shabby "2016 A.D. (sic!) All Saints Roman Catholic Calendar." In the texts of the brief captions to each month's tacky photo, Latin is used only twice in 12 months (viz., March and June), yet in both cases THERE'S AN ERROR! We exposed the June blunder in our post of April 3 (click here), but we've been saving the March moronity for just such an occasion as today. There, under the photo of His Diminutiveness (who's being dwarfed by the ungainly, hulking Lurch at his left), Dannie wrote (emphases ours):
"Ecce lingum Crucis... Behold the wood of the Cross etc."
Well, now,  non-specialist lay people writing to us after our April 3 post saw that Dannie had misspelled the Latin word lignum, i.e.,  g + n, not n + g. They were surprised we hadn't exposed that goof along with the other. You see, everyone wants the cultmasters exposed for the charlatans they are. Thank heavens the u-key is far away from the a-key or else the Gerties might have had to endure a blasphemous Freudian slip hanging on their well-soiled walls for the entire month of March! (Perhaps nostalgia for some ayurvedic spa therapy at the Bishop's Lodge is at the root.)

What's so revealing is that "One Hand" chose to quote only a pair of three-word Latin phrases, yet in both cases he misspelled a Latin word. Then he didn't catch it during proofreading! Making it all the more scandalous is the fact that both phrases come from the liturgy, which Dannie claims to be his area of expertise.That malformed mitered maggot has a profound, insatiable need to impress people, yet he stumbles badly every time, doesn't he?

Dannie's embarrassingly incompetent calendar is bursting with additional examples of this compulsion to make himself look ridiculous. Start with the cover:  instead of simply printing "2016," Li'l Daniel waxes hyper formal with "2016 A.D*." But the problem here is, in formal English usage, that particular era designation properly precedes the year number. Why? Because A.D. = the Latin phrase anno Domini, which means "in the year the Lord."  Hence the year number has to follow the abbreviation.  Dannie's grossly illiterate "2016 A.D." then laughably reads, "2016 in the year of the Lord," which is total nonsense. (It also shows he has no understanding of the Latin behind the abbreviation — the result of gross malformation.) Good scholarship today only recognizes a postpositive A.D. in usages like "the fourth century A.D."—  a less wordy way of saying "the fourth century of the Christian era."

Another instance of how Wee Dan's naked eagerness to impress always ends up exposing his startling ignorance is his failure to include all appropriate accent marks on saints' names. On November 28, he ostentatiously printed the accent aigu on the French surname Labouré, but at the same time he completely missed the tilde for the Spanish servants of God John of Sahagún (June 12), Teresa of Ávila (Oct. 15), and Peter of Alcántara (Oct. 19).

Admittedly many English-language publications omit foreign-language diacritics, although less so nowadays with the near universal availability of fonts with comprehensive character sets. In any case, Dannie should have been consistent: if you use a diacritical mark for one name, you ought to use one for all names that bear such a mark or omit the marks altogether (especially when you obviously don't know the original spelling).

Like all clowns, "One Hand" is at his imbecilic funniest when he clumsily strives to be solemnly impressive. As an example, for December 29, he prints "Thomas à Becket" instead of plain, old "Thomas Becket." No doubt Dannie thought he was being very précieux here by adding the particle. However, as far back as 1859,  the Jesuit John Morris wrote, "[the] form 'à Becket' is a colloquialism of recent date." In 1986, Becket biographer and fellow of the British Academy Frank Barlow concluded, "'à Becket' seems to have been a post-Reformation invention...from which Thomas should be spared." Later in 2014, Prof. Kay Brainerd Slocum confirmed that this "post-Reformation construction [viz. "à Becket"]... has been discarded...."

Alien Dan, as usual, stands on the outside of the academy. Driven by his pathetic obsession to court esteem through affectation, His Errancy continues to perpetuate an error long ago rejected by the literate. To his largely empty but aggressively narcissistic mind, the form "à Becket" looks oh-so proper and exotic. Why, it's the type of impressive knowledge possessed by a deeply cultured and widely revered leading citizen of the Republic of Letters — the kindly, scholarly, cat-fancying "old bishop," generously sharing a lifetime's learning to bring light unto his benighted and blear-eyed culties.


"One Hand" is not even a callow show-off. A show-off at least has tangible accomplishments to display. The schoolyard vulgarian who breaks wind on demand is more worthy of our applause than Blowhard Dan who merely generates hot air infused with error.

Don't listen to him, and don't buy anything he's selling.


* We'll give Dannie a pass — this time — for failing to set the abbreviation in small caps, as educated convention requires. If he doesn't know the usage rule, how could he know the typesetting rule? But since our ancient version of Google's Blogger cannot reproduce small caps, even when we insert them from a Word document, in fairness we've chosen to remain silent about that particular typographical flaw.