"THE HORROR! THE HORROR!"

Of all human powers operating on the affairs of mankind, none is greater than that of competition. Clay

June's over, yet, as of this posts's publication time, we haven't seen that month's pesthouse newsletter online. In May, Tradzilla, a.k.a. the Donster, boasted he'd be leisurely touring the Continent at the end of July, so it's likely there won't be time for another newsletter until after he returns.  (Executive travel abroad to multiple countries requires a lot of prep, you know: it takes time and energy to secure reservations at 5-star hotels, pore over Michelin fine dining guides, schedule costly sightseeing excursions, etc.)

Normally we wouldn't care, but in his last newsletter, you'll remember, Big Don promised he'd "shortly" be founding "an organization of traditional Catholic priests." Ever since then, we've been on pins and needles waiting for the big reveal, which now appears delayed or —  horrible scriptu — even scuttled.

We mean, wouldn't it have been logical to proclaim the new group's foundation before heading off to the Old World in order to high-pressure the suave Continentals to join? What a coup it would have been to round up Stuyver, Trauner, Jacmin, and Héquart in their natural habitat. Tradzilla could then lumber on back to the good, ol' U. S. of A. triumphant over the other cult "bishops," especially his puny rival "One-Hand Dan," who must by now be apoplectic with jealousy at the Donster's expansive European apostolate. After all, "Wandering Bishop of All TradWorld" was the rôle Dirtbag Dan had fictitiously assumed for himself so many years ago, and now it belongs in fact to that upstart Flushing Rat.

All we can say about this eerie radio silence is that something serious — something horrendous — must have happened to keep Big Don's annoyingly loud mouth zipped. The Readers are reminded of 2011: he announced his big $30-k plan, yet there was never so much as a word afterward (click here).

You'll be pleased to learn that Pistrina may know exactly what's behind the Donster's curious taciturnity!

Although the details aren't completely available yet, we've received multiple reports about lay meddlers' shepherding a scheme to unify trad "clergy" by means of a separate, competing outreach effort. Supposedly Don's emergent competition features a super-secret web site with a message board where victimized "priests" may air their grievances or share with each other their nagging concerns about TradNation's discredited "leadership."

The claim-jumping organizers (whose identities remain undisclosed) are said to have once been pretty nasty adversaries of the $GG cultmasters. (Rumor has it they still have an axe to grind.) Moreover, sources swear these bold-as-brass intruders into Discipline Donnie's territory have invited everyone — and we mean E V E R Y O N E — to participate, including "clergy" indentured to dying $GG, the swampland family-run cult, and the hapless CMRI.

If the reports are in any way true, then Tradzilla may be reconsidering his plan to form his new group. All things considered, it won't help his recruitment campaign if there's a horrid gossip site out there where disgruntled "priests" post their gripes about the cultmasters' arrogance and double standards. For instance, what would happen if other "clerical" prospects read a cult "priest's" complaint about receiving a harsh reprimand for eating at Wendy's?

Wouldn't you think some potential members might not want to subject themselves to the same kind of petty tyranny and hypocrisy from a well-known habitué of Panera's? (Unless, to be sure, they could be persuaded that Panera belongs to an ontologically distinct class of fast-food dining establishments and ergo doesn't count. Ah, the utility of a Scholastic background!)

IOHO, the Donster is uncharacteristically wise to put his plans for a new organization on the back burner. A cyber venue where resentful "clergy" vent their pent-up frustration can be not only therapeutic but also dangerously liberating. Just imagine not having to share your bitter chagrin in fearful secrecy with just another whipped coward like yourself. Imagine having a sympathetic audience of 100 or more of your malformed peers, who could offer moral support and goad you to stand up for your rights as a male adult endowed with a free will.

So, then, instead of crying to cult-crazed lay rite-trash about knee-knocking fears that Tradzilla will discover you've been chowing down at Taco Bell, you now have the narrow shoulders of your wimpy brethren on which to wipe your sniffling nose. Unlike the helpless laity, these newly emancipated "clergy" might be able to do something about it. Worried that their own guilty, non-organic dining preferences will suffer severe theological censure, your macho "clerical" buddies might just resist a control-freak Tradzilla when he smashes into their "chapels" roaring for them to submit.

Certainly the Donster may decide to end this horrific threat to his weakening hegemony by taking direct action to condemn the audacious, nascent venture as contrary to the age-old principles of Catholic clericalism.  For instance, he could start by bullying other "clergy" to refuse to sign on. But he'd better do it fast, for the nimble organizers have stolen a march on him. In fact, they may already have a large number of vengeful registrants posting away furiously.  If this new clerical complaint forum catches on, Discipline Donnie might as well kiss his new organization good-bye — along with his own future.

As we said before, there'll be no room for him at the cult compound when Tradistan's latest boy bishop takes over very soon. The real powers in swampy Bonkersville have to be mad as...ah, uh, um... the dickens at Big Don for bringing all this scrutiny down upon the family-controlled cult. Besides, they didn't like "One Hand," Cheeseball Checkie, or the Duo's "contractor" pal in the first place. And now they have to block their social media accounts, no longer able to advertise the good life they enjoy as a result of Tradzilla's flexible standards (where an individual's wealth is concerned) and their abundant family fiscs. We truly understand the plight of the upper-crust swampland élite: It's always a problem when an uppity servant brings trouble back to the manor house as a result of his underclass associations.

However, it looks as though we'll have to wait until Big Don returns from his summer trans-European holiday to find out what he intends to do to stop this horrible incursion onto his fast-receding turf. But by then, it may be too late.

 Bye-bye, Donnie. Your very own Brexit — exit from Brooksville — may just be beginning.