Saturday, January 10, 2015


A man travels the world in search of what he needs. George Moore

Mid-January 2015 brings two things to barren Tradistan: frigid arctic weather and, with this year's early Easter, the looming onset of Lent. That can only mean it's time for "One Hand-Dan" to pack his bags and head off to gorgeous Mexico where the sun is shining brightly, and the Lenten fast is mitigated. (Remember last year during Lent when he bragged about pigging out "on copious quantities of meat" at an Argentine restaurant in Mexico City?)

This year, we're almost certain Wee Dan plans to grace Mexicali, Mexico, with his diminutive presence and oversized appetite. (We'll wager he's sick to death of those sticky, tasteless casseroles slopped together by the hollow-eyed and unkempt "Cucina cooks." That grub's only fit to feed house mice and the "young fathers," not self-important, world-wandering "bishops.") Dirtbag Dan's been preparing the Gerties for this new junket since last year, when he announced he'd been invited there for the winter because the summers are too hot. Then, in the fall, he hosted a visit from some Mexican priests out of Baja, no doubt to firm up plans (and menus?) for his annual winter escape veiled as a "mission" visit.

As of yet, we haven't learned the exact date for the all-too-convenient getaway. We figure it could take place between February 18 and March 28 (he'd want to be back for the big show on Palm Sunday). But since Cultilandia's weather is tolerable in March, our best guess is sometime between February 18 and the end of the month, while it's still icy cold in SW Ohio: The average February low temperature in West Chester is a glacial 21 ºF or -6 ºC, while the average February high temperature in Mexicali is a balmy 73.4 ºF  or 23 ºC.

While the Gerties and the left-behind "clergy" are shivering around their thin, tepid soup, Li'l Dan will be sunning himself before heading off for a good feed. A colleague couldn't find an Argentine churrasquería in Mexicali, but she did come across a Brazilian rodízio-style* restaurant, Mr. Pampas do Brasil (Justo Sierra 1051, )686-565-6558). We think Wee Dan will really like the joint. One reviewer on exclaimed, "Stuff your face with meat!" and Gabriel G effused, "Para carnívoros."  We don't expect the waiters will ever see the red NÃO token on Deacon Dan's table: it'll be go-go green SIM the whole night!

When Travelin'-Man Dan announces the dates of his winter-holiday, loyal Gerties in the choir will want to accompany him to the airport to sing a buen-viaje serenade. We've taken the liberty of composing an appropriately themed ditty to be sung to the tune of "Mexicali Rose." Here's the original, as covered by the immortal Slim Whitman so y'all can sing along at home.

Mexicali knows I'm dyin'
For a Lenten feast of copious meat.
Every fastin' day is sorely tryin'
The patience of a vagus who can eat!

Set the mesa with a platter.
Load it with carnitas and bistec.
Fry some chicharrón, make me fatter:
Mexicali knows I'm packed!


* A rodízio, or Brazilian steakhouse (churrascaria in Portuguese), is an all-you-can-eat, fixed-priced carnivore's paradise. Your waiter gives you a token, one side green, often marked sim ("yes") and the other red, usually marked não ("no"). As long as the servers see the green token on the table, they'll keep bringing you dripping skewers of barbecued filet mignon, sirloin steak, roast beef, short ribs, pork sausage, pork ribs, chicken hearts, dark chicken meat, grilled pineapple, and the prized, super fatty  picanha ("rump cap"). We imagine that once Li'l Dan's through, there'll be an incident much like what Mr. Creosote's experienced in "Monty Python's The Meaning of Life."


  1. "Bishop Dolan recently told me in an interview: 'If this were ordinary times, I wouldn’t be a bishop. I have no illusions about that.' He has grasped that because we are in extraordinary times, he doesn’t get to do what he would have wanted to do, which is be a simple parish priest – or even earlier – a simple Cistercian monk."

    1. That kind of self-effacement sounds good, but actions speak louder than words. Why doesn't he just live like a simple priest instead of putting on airs with elaborate pontifical ceremonies, vestments, choirs singing "Ecce sacerdos magnus,"and by issuing condemnations of other priests and bishops (as he did to a French lay association)? As a vagus, he has no jurisdiction or authority that needs to be singled out by means of vesture, so why doesn't he walk the walk? He would only need to play dolly dress-up at confirmation and ordinations, and even then he could use the simpler rites.

      If he knows he would never have been promoted in ordinary times, then why strut around in these extraordinary times playing a role that would have been beyond his grasping reach? Why are so many of his self-referential remarks aimed at exciting reverence for his status as a bishop?

      No, if he really and truly felt as he spoke in that interview, he'd wear a simple, untrimmed cassock, call himself "Father," and demand that people stop kowtowing as if he were a distinguished prelate.

      The whole process of naming bishops in the trad world is a sham. These guys are self-chosen, and all they need is somebody with poor judgment to give them episcopal orders. And when they get those orders, there's so little they can do with them, since priests can confirm. There is absolutely nothing in the traddie episcopacy that warrants the usual deference given to real bishops, so they all should stop pretending and keep it simple.

  2. "Super fatty" picanha? That almost sounds as if it were a bad thing! The caramelised fat is what makes the steak so juicy, tender and aromatic.

    Well, I hope now my next visit to a Brazilian churrascaria won't be spoiled by remembering this tender, juicy, fatty Carnival-Cleric ...

    1. Tarquinius,

      We love rodízio, too, and we'd hate to dine in one with that horrific image in the back of our minds. Now that we think about, we wish we hadn't made the recommendation.

      Maybe he won't be able to afford to invite all the Mexican priests to Mr. Pampas. There've been a lot of expenses at the cult this year (raccoons, the Ukrainian priest's apartment etc.), so maybe he'll have to skip the place and just settle for a taco extravaganza on some street corner.

    2. In case he can afford rodízio, maybe somebody should tell him that they serve the choicest bits last. While I am sure he'll probably be satisfied with pork sausages - let's not kid ourselves, the "Gourmet of St. Getrude" is no connoisseur of fine cuisine, he just likes to play the educated gentleman, but that is a thing you can't even buy with cultist's cash - maybe it is still charitable to tell him how to get the best beef for the buck. After all, it isn't his money to throw away, the least he can do is not to outright burn it. The restaurant's owner would surely be glad. I can already see the churrasqueiros hardly being able to cut a straight line while holding back their laughter ...

    3. A fine suggestion to save the poor Gerties some money. Since the clown crew reads this blog, we're certain they will take note.

      You're 110% right about "One Hand's" low-brow preferences. We actually think he favors Taco Bell fare over authentic Mexican cuisine. Indeed, the whole Terrible Trio has very limited tastes in food. It's a good thing they've targeted the lower classes as their prey, because upwardly mobile middle class and upper-class Americans with real university degrees who enjoy exploring new and different cuisines would have nothing to do with these uneducated, culinary barbarians.

      The one thing we can say for the Trio is that, at the beginning of their careers, they had enough knowledge of their limitations to remain among the lowest social levels. Later, of course, they forgot who they were and so exposed themselves to the ridicule of their betters, who are legion.

  3. Interesting point of view. A bishop donning the sacred and beautiful vestments of the Church to perform the sacred liturgy is "play[ing] dolly dress-up". I always enjoy the rare occasions when the author of this blog lets his mask of piety slip off, however briefly, and his audience can catch a glimpse of the Jew behind it before he has a chance to put it back on.

  4. It's playing dolly-dress up when the celebrant is a self-selected *episcopus vagans* operating outside a canonically erected diocese, who by his own admission would never have been elevated to the episcopacy in normal times.

    Our revulsion at buffoonish effrontery is genuine, and we could never mask it, even if we were so inclined. Prelatical vesture and pontifical rites must be reserved for the deserving who have had to pass the scrutiny of their superiors. If he were truly under "no illusions" about his mettle for the episcopacy, he would never have sought even the remotest semblance except in the case of absolutely necessary rites. And even in those instances, he would have refrained from practicing the solemn forms.

  5. You misunderstand my image of the mask. You wear a mask of piety and concern for the Church, which in reality conceals a contempt for sacred things. You let your contempt show through just now when you referred to liturgical vestments as "dolly dress-up".

  6. Nonsense. It is because of our utter awe of sacred things that we condemn the dolly-dress up farce of malformed vagi.