Who could foretell this sore distress,/This irretrievable disaster/When first we met? Bridges
We're sometimes amazed at our prescience. Indeed, if we Readers were living in 17th century Salem, Massachusetts, we'd be hanged on the barren slope of Gallows Hill as necromancers: Every time we examine the rotting cadaver of Tradistan and conjecture about the cult masters' motives, out of their own mouths they themselves confirm our droll predictions.
Back on February 15, we reported on the proposed wasteful purchase of a replacement electronic organ for the sagging SGG cult center. Along with a commenter, we had speculated that a driving force behind the unneeded acquisition was Tony Baloney's unbridled appetite for a fancier toy.
Sure enough, last week in his "Bishop's (?) Corner," Dubious Dan vindicated us. After informing the Gertie suckers of the organ's imminent delivery (!!) even though, apparently, all the funds haven't yet been raised, he proudly boasted that "a contented Fr. Cekada will soon be able to blast away once more at the console."
Do we know these scheming clowns, or don't we?!
To be truthful, it doesn't take the gift of second sight or a tarot deck to divine their intentions. With a little insight, anyone can follow the glaring arc traced by their luminous greed. They're simply parasites who co-opt other people's resources to feed their immoderate, insatiable craving for stuff.
Like peevish, calculating adolescent-tyrants manipulating cowed parents who've reached their wits' end, cult clergy cannot distinguish between malignant wants and real needs. And, more often than not, the objects they hunger for are less desirable than the psychological control that results when people surrender to their incessant demands. What drives their behavior seems to be an itching mania to possess and to dispossess at the same time.
The prospect of high fuel charges for the record-breaking cold raises the important question of basic household management. Why didn't SGG's "pastor" budget the money to cover the costs? More to the point, why did His Incompetency buy the replacement organ in addition to vacationing in Mexico and Florida when he knew big heating bills were just around the corner?
No one's going to bail out the hard-scrabble, shivering Gerties when the Duke Energy bill nests like a monstrous, black bird of prey in their shabby mailboxes. They had to sacrifice to make certain they'd have money in the bank to pay the utility company. Many cultling families will have to cut back on small but coveted luxuries and longed-for vacations this year, so why can't Big-Spendin' Dan? The money he and Checkie are raising for that replacement organ -- $5,000 - $6,000 -- could have covered the obligation. And if more were needed, that could have come from the airfare and land expenses for the Dirtbag's two winter vacations. Why can't Dannie, that pontificulus esuriens, learn to live within his means? The faithful have to.
On top of the new organ expenditure and looming heating bills, Deacon Dan informs us the rabies-vector vermin are back:
And why, may we ask, does someone else have to bait the traps? Why can't Lurch, Uneven Steven McFaker, the Forlorn Finn, or Tony Baloney help out a little? It can't be that hard to learn to set and bait a trap, and then dispose of the contents, dead or alive. We hear marshmallows are a critter favorite. There may be some left over from last summer's cult bonfire orgy, unless the army of mice settled in at the priests' quarters got 'em.
It's time for all high-flying Traddie clerics and prelatasters to come down to the real world to see how decent people live and work. Do yourselves -- and them -- a favor:
Sure enough, last week in his "Bishop's (?) Corner," Dubious Dan vindicated us. After informing the Gertie suckers of the organ's imminent delivery (!!) even though, apparently, all the funds haven't yet been raised, he proudly boasted that "a contented Fr. Cekada will soon be able to blast away once more at the console."
Do we know these scheming clowns, or don't we?!
To be truthful, it doesn't take the gift of second sight or a tarot deck to divine their intentions. With a little insight, anyone can follow the glaring arc traced by their luminous greed. They're simply parasites who co-opt other people's resources to feed their immoderate, insatiable craving for stuff.
Like peevish, calculating adolescent-tyrants manipulating cowed parents who've reached their wits' end, cult clergy cannot distinguish between malignant wants and real needs. And, more often than not, the objects they hunger for are less desirable than the psychological control that results when people surrender to their incessant demands. What drives their behavior seems to be an itching mania to possess and to dispossess at the same time.
The appearance of one outlandish demand is always accompanied by additional impositions. Notice how His Spendthriftiness didn't blush to couple the announcement of this latest act of wanton profligacy with a naked reminder for more cash owing to the Siberian weather visited upon SW Ohio: "Don’t forget those envelopes," he was quick to threaten the over-burdened cultlings. "The heating bills will be horrendous." (The Gerties must surely be aware that the "envelopes" will never be enough: there WILL be another special appeal to pay off the fuel debt. They'll have to dig deeper: The chic, Southwestern Bishop's Lodge beckons like a desert Lorelei and won't be ignored.)
The prospect of high fuel charges for the record-breaking cold raises the important question of basic household management. Why didn't SGG's "pastor" budget the money to cover the costs? More to the point, why did His Incompetency buy the replacement organ in addition to vacationing in Mexico and Florida when he knew big heating bills were just around the corner?
No one's going to bail out the hard-scrabble, shivering Gerties when the Duke Energy bill nests like a monstrous, black bird of prey in their shabby mailboxes. They had to sacrifice to make certain they'd have money in the bank to pay the utility company. Many cultling families will have to cut back on small but coveted luxuries and longed-for vacations this year, so why can't Big-Spendin' Dan? The money he and Checkie are raising for that replacement organ -- $5,000 - $6,000 -- could have covered the obligation. And if more were needed, that could have come from the airfare and land expenses for the Dirtbag's two winter vacations. Why can't Dannie, that pontificulus esuriens, learn to live within his means? The faithful have to.
We're willing to wager that "One Hand" has experienced (or anticipated) some resistance to the organ purchase, for he found it necessary to add the patently defensive sentence, "The old organ really is old, and slowly dying." From what we've been told, Checkie could have frugally prolonged the life of the old instrument instead of purchasing a replacement -- and a second-hand replacement at that. However, the Checkmeister, always in search of novelty and gratification, characteristically decided to pull the plug and withhold life support. Sound familiar?
On top of the new organ expenditure and looming heating bills, Deacon Dan informs us the rabies-vector vermin are back:
The beasts have returned to our walls. Poor devils, I’m sure the cold drove them to it... Who could resist? Maybe a kind soul will bait the traps again and bear away the little invaders.We remember Dannie's telling us a few weeks back that professional exterminators had been summoned to rid the crumbling cult center of the filthy, invading raccoons. Why can't the wildlife-control company be called back? Didn't they give a guarantee? If they didn't, isn't there enough money to schedule a follow-up visit? Deacon Dan had better do something quickly because March is still raccoon breeding season.
And why, may we ask, does someone else have to bait the traps? Why can't Lurch, Uneven Steven McFaker, the Forlorn Finn, or Tony Baloney help out a little? It can't be that hard to learn to set and bait a trap, and then dispose of the contents, dead or alive. We hear marshmallows are a critter favorite. There may be some left over from last summer's cult bonfire orgy, unless the army of mice settled in at the priests' quarters got 'em.
It's time for all high-flying Traddie clerics and prelatasters to come down to the real world to see how decent people live and work. Do yourselves -- and them -- a favor:
END THE WASTE. STOP GIVING TODAY. STARVE THE BEAST.
Reading the "Bishop's Corner", it states that Patrick Omlor is an altar server!!!! If this is a grandson or other relative of the trad author Omlor I'm VERY disappointed. Why would they be going to SGG? One good thing though is that Patrick doesn't go to their school, but is homeschooled.
ReplyDeleteYes, we must be thankful for small graces. We think that the family's choice NOT to send the young man to SGG School speaks volumes: they know better. Too bad for the other Gerties' kids that their parents are too stupid to get the message that "trad royalty" is telegraphing.
ReplyDeleteWhat would happen if Mr. and Mrs. Horsefeathers moved into the area, starting attending SGG, but chose to homeschool their children? In other words, what would happen if anyone other than "trad royalty" homeschooled rather than send the children to SGG school?
ReplyDeleteWe're sure there would be pressure for "commoners" to send their children to that cesspool they call a "school." We think the Omlors have gotten a pass in return for their vocal approval of the SGG cult.
ReplyDeleteOne woman once told us that a member of the "trad royal family" once invited her to lunch and admitted that there were big problems with the SGG clergy, but insisted everyone stick with them because they were "closest to real thing." As a result of such foolish fanaticism, the cult masters make a point of deifying the patriarch, so the "royals" defend them to the end, no matter how bad the record Therefore, it behooves the kingpins to continue the myth of the pater familias -- and MYTH it is.
We've demonstrated that the cult masters are far from the real thing, but as long as Dannie and Cheeseball pay lip service to the putative "great man," the "royal family" will keep defending the cult. It's all so sleazy.
The myth needs to be exposed for its gross exaggerations.
Well, that was interesting & informative! I'm on the outside looking in & so don't know all the nuances & thought that the "trad royalty" that The Reader mentioned, was a reference to the clergy with their fancy vestments & elaborate ceremonies & so Anon 10:26 PM's post wasn't making sense. Finally figured out that the 'royalty' were the Omlors. This is indeed a sad state of affairs. It seems that if some trads achieve some sort of status they want to keep it - come hell or high water! Very disappointing. I guess I'm naïve to hope that a trad would choose the truth & go with it no matter what. If SGG is "closest to the real thing" we're in deep doo doo. Looks like a classic case of 'scratch my back & I'll scratch yours'. No wonder that there's just a remnant!!
ReplyDeleteThe cult masters have made it a practice to stroke the family in return for its support. Checkie dedicated his una-cum article ("the Grain of Incense") to Patrick Henry Omlor, and every now a then you can find a mention of him in the cult's publications.
ReplyDeleteThe saddest part of this story is that by cleaving to the cult masters and allowing the family name to be so thoroughly identified with these disgraced clerics, they dishonor the dearly departed's memory.
Your analysis is perfect and explains why the SGG cult is moribund. Celebrity status, even in that gossipy, wretched patch of the world call Tradistan, trumps admitting the truth.
What we find laughable is that the SGG cult is not even near the "real thing." In reality, it presents Catholicism as "high camp," and it diminishes anyone associated with it.