SPRING MAILBAG #1

Editor's Note: It's time to catch up on our email correspondence.

Dear Readers,

[Last week's post] reminded me when I occasionally attended Mass at one of the SGG satellite chapels while on the road. Whenever Cekada celebrated "High Mass," after he finished saying the Creed he would go down to the steps to kneel for the choir's Et incarnatus est and then go sit at the bench. No other priests ever did this. They all headed straight to their seat after saying the Creed. Fortescue says that in a Sung Mass after the celebrant says the Creed "he goes, by the shorter way, to sit. The M.C. assists him as before. When the verse Et incarnatus est, etc. is sung, the M.C. and all the servers (if standing) kneel at their place. The celebrant uncovers and bows." So much for the so called "great liturgist." You are right: they just make it up as they go along.

Our correspondent has a sharp eye. One of the Readers recalls the Blunderer's timing his recitation of the Credo so as to be able to kneel in front of the altar before going to sit. (There was always plenty of time, he noted, so it was never the case that the Bonehead was "caught" by the verse en route to the scamnum.)  Our colleague reports he hadn't been able to understand Checkie's behavior either, especially since Laurence O'Connell in his The Book of Ceremonies, the much-cited U.S. authority, like Fortesue, teaches that, after the recitation, the celebrant goes by the shorter way to sit, removing his biretta and bowing, from Et incarnatus est until after Et homo factus est.* 

The only way our co-worker could make sense of the deviant practice was to conjecture that Cheeseball Checkie had failed to read carefully John O'Connell's instruction in his The Celebration of Mass: "If the Celebrant does not go to sit, he should kneel on the edge of the footpace in the middle of the altar, with the M.C. kneeling beside him, while these words are sung." (Emphasis ours.) However, our fellow Reader insisted his explanation was only a desperate attempt to give a reasonable explanation to a behavior so at odds with approved authors and the standard practice of other, better-trained priests.

The cult masters, he observed, always did march to the maniacal beat of a different drummer.  No one ever asked questions because they knew they wouldn't get a straight answer while in the cultic loony bin. Other priests who on occasion served the chapel, however, used to smile sardonically when they learned of Erroneous Antonius's novelty. One urbane Latin American, trained in Italy, archly observed in private to a few laymen, "I don't claim to be an expert on the liturgy, but I do know that's wrong."

Whatever the Blunderer's motives, the correspondent's recollection is another example proving our point that the cult masters don't care about getting the details right. The books of ceremonial instructions are easily obtainable, so anyone, including their numerous adversaries, can easily verify whether or not the cult masters are doing things right. Under such conditions, most self-respecting men would make sure they were letter perfect in order to escape withering criticism.

But not so the cult masters.

Inasmuch as they "minister" solely to the vilest dregs of Traddie scum, they don't bother about accuracy. Dannie only has to tell the mouth-breathing, head-twitching, saliva-gurgling cultlings that the sub-mediocre Checkmeister is a great liturgiologist, a profound theologian, and a distinguished writer, and the booger-encrusted, hilljack imbeciles take his word. All that blank-faced gullibility certainly makes it easy on the low-achieving clergy: they don't even have to appear to be competent. They merely announce it.

Of course, we had to ask ourselves whether the cult masters regretted not attracting intelligent, mentally well-adjusted chapel members drawn from a superior social class, whose critical eye and ready tongue might have inspired them to improve their game. After all, cutting-edge research in special education tells us that most human beings, even those with severe cognitive deficiencies, thrive under a challenge. However, after a few seconds of thought, we safely concluded that the answer must be a throaty naaahhhh! 

Way down deep, they actually don't want to get any better; moreover, truth to tell, they probably lack the modest, natural gifts to realize such an ambition anyway. Besides, they know from years of rejection that normal, educated folks -- folks with symmetrical facial features --  never tolerate them for long. It's far better to stick with the grotesquely twisted asylum inmates.

The bar has been set very low, and it will remain at ground level -- or below -- so long as a monstrous cadre of slobbering, runny-nosed, cross-eyed cretins fund the cult madhouse. 

STOP RUNNING WITH LOW-CLASS LOONIES, GENETIC MISTAKES, AND MONSTROUS THROW BACKS. GET OUT OF THE CULT TODAY. YOUR I.Q., YOUR SOCIAL STANDING, AND YOUR FINANCES WILL GET A BIG BOOST.

*In his instructions for Sung Mass, L. O'Connell directs the celebrant, after the intonation of the Creed, to "proceed as at Solemn Mass." In those instructions, he has the following note (p. 194) for the exception:

At the three Masses of Christmas and on the Feast of the Annunciation, do not go to the sedilia immediately after you have finished saying the Creed, but remain standing at the center. Just before the choir sings Et incarnatus est, go down to the top step and kneel on the edge of the platform. Remain kneeling and bow until after Et homo factus est. Then go up again, genuflect, and go to the sedilia per breviorem. 

CLOTHES MAKE THE MAN

Why don't you go where fashion sits? Puttin' on the Ritz. Irving Berlin

Editor's Note: An early and brief post for this busy holiday weekend.

There's a reason the SW Ohio cult is more an incubus than an inspiration:

American cultic sede-ism is not a coherent system of deeply held convictions. It represents an easy life and a meal ticket for malformed clerical dilettantes, who will not abide the discipline that ironclad principles impose. That's why they don't bother to correct all the errors in their online publications. That's why they won't fix their problematic holy orders. That's why they espouse absolute sedevacantism but still insist the 1917 Code of Canon Law obliges. That's why they preach the necessity of a seminary formation but ordain and associate with a man who underwent what amounts to be a mere tutorial.

Yet there's a rationale behind American sede inconsistency: Why bother with consistency as long as a handful of emotionally needy, "rite-trash" morons will believe anything they're told? As long as enough of them remain firmly tethered to the cult center and keep up support payments, then there's no problem. The sub-Neanderthal laymen and -women are inoculated against the truth, and there's no getting through those very thick, misshapen skulls.

That doesn't frustrate us one little bit. In fact, the cultlings' stubborn refusal to see the truth is what makes it a delight to expose "One Hand," Tony Baloney, and the ragin' rector. You see, it's the same entertainment that bear-baiting offered in the 16th and 17th centuries: a monstrous, lumbering, moaning brute vexed on all sides by nimble, sharply barking adversaries. In the face of biting revelations, the maddened cultie beasts don't know what to do. Their perplexity is side-splittingly funny. Deprived of conscience and a sense of self-preservation, they continue sacrificing their family's future to underwrite the cult masters' excesses despite the lacerating evidence warning them to get out now.

So, for some holiday sport, let's once again open up to one and all Pistrina's bear garden, as we worry these mindless, amoral critters to distraction with another proof that their cult masters are not serious sedes. It's very short and simple, and it goes like this:

American sede big shots are often pictured in their bright purple choir cassocks, purple sashes, and lacy rochets with red lining for the cuffs. It's a splendid sight, since some of these high-flying wandering bishops buy their kit from Gammarelli's, the ritzy papal tailor in Rome. Very eye catching, and the getup is sure to attract attention. However, by the strict code of prelatical vesture, during the vacancy of the Holy See -- the Sede Vacante -- Catholic bishops are to wear a black choir cassock with purple trimmings, a black silk sash, and a rochet with cuffs lined in purple.* And, of course, the purple silk or fine broadcloth mantelletta must be replaced by one made of black cloth, trimmed and lined with purple silk.

Not so fancy, huh?  Kind of hard to preen and shine. You don't cut such a bella figura, do you? You can't feel so special and entitled when you're outfitted so drably, can you? Dressed up mostly in black, you just don't look too ... too ... -- what's the word? Ah, yes! -- episcopal! Won't really do for those junkets south of the border or to France, where all the bright color draws people's attention away from American shallowness and ignorance.  And you're definitely not going to become everybody's center of attention or stand out as the ♪♬grandest Traddie in the Easter parade♩♫.

Yet, if the cult kingpins really and truly believed the Holy See was vacant, and if they really and truly believed all the old rules were in force and were binding, then they'd dress the part, even if it meant they couldn't play peacock in the Tradistan zoo.

C'MON, CULTLINGS: THE CULT POOHBAHS AREN'T REAL. ADMIT IT. BREAK FREE FROM YOUR TETHERS AND CRAWL OUT OF THE BEAR GARDEN TO LICK YOUR WOUNDS. YOUR FAMILIES WILL BE EVER SO GRATEFUL.
LIFE WILL BE BEARABLE ONCE MORE.

*See Dr. Nainfa's Costume of Prelates of the Catholic Church According to Roman Etiquette (1926) or McCloud's 1948 Clerical Dress and Insignia of the Roman Catholic Church.

WINTER OF DISCONTENT

I've yet to meet the Duke I couldn't like. Patrick Shaw-Stewart

Last week's "Bishop's(?) Corner" turned out to be yet another revelation. "One Hand" seems to use the feature for writing therapy to ease the psychoneurotic trauma of overseeing a swiftly collapsing enterprise. In that squalid little forum of his, he can give expression to his apprehensions under the bogus guise of an elder churchman's world-weary ruminations. At the same time, through unsubtle hints, he endeavors to persuade the overburdened "Gerties" to part with more of their scarce cash to keep the dying St. Gertrude's Cult Center on life-support.

As you must have guessed by now, we Readers eagerly look forward to Dannie's journal of inner turmoil for the simple reason that it confirms all our conjectures. Let's take a look at two of His Transparency's recent disclosures. The first confirms our suspicions about the culties' losing interest in "One Hand's" paraliturgical dinner theater:

Fewer and fewer even make the Stations each year. The Friday evening Mass and supper have almost a handful, the same as at any other season. We shall not speak of Sunday Vespers or most weekday Masses, a lost cause.

"One Hand" appears to be lamenting the unpleasant truth that fewer people supplying his Friday soup kitchen means less free food for him and his beggarly crew. He's got five big mouths to feed, so the loss of a weekly gratis meal means he's got to dip into his own resources. That spells less money for fancy restaurants, lavish trips, and shopping sprees. Secondly, the cooling of enthusiasm translates directly into a lowering of cult revenues. The fewer times Wee Dan and his underlings see the cultie turnips, the less opportunity there is to squeeze the cash-bled victims for more money.

Deacon Dan's grousing corroborates all the danger signals we've seen flashing. One of the most alarming came by way of John Lane's Bellarmine Forums. In his thoughtful rebuttal of Cheeseball Checkie's latest effort to scare the faithful with the una-cum bogeyman, the well-respected moderator accurately summarized the Cekada's argument:

In other words, "Get yourselves over here to St. Gertrude's. After all, there's plenty of spare room these days!"

For those who aren't aware of it, the serious and learned Mr. Lane occupies a particularly well-placed position to know about the deep, secret goings-on at the SW Ohio cult. His cutting remark, combined with the reports we're receiving, gives the lie to the tall tales about SGG growth and prosperity.

More revealing than the low-attendance complaint is His Exigency's second disclosure:

God reward your generosity in your Sunday offerings. “Alms covereth a multitude of sin.” You are helping us pay the king’s ransom which the Duke demands for another of our “global warming” Winters. Imagine if it were really warm? I imagine the heating bills would be lower…

For those unfamiliar with the SW Ohio region, "the Duke" is Duke Energy, the giant electric and gas company down there. It's clear "the Duke" is an exacting overlord whom Dannie wishes to placate, for it seems that as long as the "Gerties" keep paying the fuel bills, everything's A-O.K. -- even if they don't attend stations and cater the weekly pot-luck pig outs.

After this year's record-cold winter in Ohio, the heating costs must have been astronomical. The cult center's poor design and shoddy construction undoubtedly contributed to the enormity of the bills. All those thousands of dollars flying out the windows and escaping through the ceilings must put a crimp in the cult masters' style.  Could it be that Dannie's benevolent wish is more in hope of donations to come than for donations already received?

We bet the "Gerties" are getting tired of the unending fundraising appeals and gimmicks. After all, they have stiff heating bills of their own to pay. In all probability, they hadn't planned on their tax refunds' being used to pay for someone else's bad decisions. These folks know there was no reason to move from the cult's old location on Reading Road to take on crushing new debt and crippling maintenance expenses. Now they're stuck paying for Dannie and Cheeseball's dream-turned-nightmare.

As public-spirited internet journalists, we'd like to help the downtrodden "Gerties" just say NO to bailing out the cult masters this season. Accordingly, here's our reading of Desperate Dan's exercise in auto-therapy.

Let's first note that “Alms covereth a multitude of sin” are not actual words from Scripture. St. Peter (1 Pt 4:8) wrote, "charity* (= love) covereth a multitude of sins." But we won't quibble too much with Dannie's quotation twisting insofar as moral theologians consider alms as part of the universal law of charity. We understand Deacon Dan was just trying to tug violently on culties' heartstrings -- as well as their ever tightening purse strings -- to loosen up some cash. However, gullible "Gerties" should note:

Wee Dan cannot be the object of almsgiving!

Alms are for the needy. Almsgiving is the relief of our neighbors' necessity. How can Free Spendin' "One-Hand Dan" be needy when he's just returned from two back-to-back, expensive, unnecessary vacations abroad? And that reminds us of another question: who's paying for the Tony Baloney's monthly trips to the swampland pesthouse? If the rector doesn't reimburse the airfare , then where's the money coming from? If from the Blunderer's personal account, then he's not needy either.** And what about any retirement and savings accounts? They qualify as assets, too. And what about gifts and Mass stipends?

That's why, "Gerties," you shouldn't worry your microcephalic cultie heads. You don't have to fret about that king's ransom because there's plenty of cash in the rectory to appease "the Duke." So, go on: get your kid's teeth fixed -- and let the Gruesome Twosome dig deep into their reserves. No, indeed! The cult masters are in no way needy. They can't qualify for alms.  In fact, their non-stop money raising despoils you "Gerties" of your alms.

Nor can the cult masters compel support by appealing to the fifth commandment of the Church. The cult is not a canonically erected parish in the archdiocese and therefore has no real nexus with the Church. Moreover, there's positive doubt about "One Hand's" priestly and episcopal orders. As a result, there's also positive doubt about the validity of the orders of three of the malformed and/or unformed "clergy" under his whip hand.  No one is obligated to support doubtfully valid clergy.

In justice, the cult masters ought to contribute personally to defraying the heating expenses of the cult center. It's their design. They set the temperatures. They're the ones who insisted on the school, which must be a major contributor to the exorbitant heating bill. Ask yourselves this, "Gerties": Is St. Gertrude the Great School paying for the heat it consumes out of it's tuition revenues?

If the answer is no, "Gerties" ought to demand big changes, even though the cult center is owned by a cult-master-controlled civil corporation.  If the "Gerties" are expected to pay "the Duke," they should make their financial assistance contingent on a pledge from Dannie to stop foreign travel and to close the school.  All those salaries would certainly cover the heating and air-conditioning bills for the entire year, with plenty of money to spare! We wager that if the cult masters put SGG School to a vote of the chapel membership, an overwhelming majority would favor shutting it down and sending the staff packing.

Isn't it time for "Gerties" to put an end to this relentless panhandling? Right now they've got leverage. If they all just stopped the flow of cash, His Anxiousness would have to change his ways or head off into exile.

"The Duke" will make certain of that. 

*The Greek and Latin words for charity are ἀγάπη and c(h)aritas; for alms, ἐλεημοσύνη and  ele(e)mosyna.

** If it's coming from the general fund, then "Gerties" better reduce their weekly offerings. Why not ask Wee Dan for an accounting? It's your money, you know.

DEACON DAN'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE

Citizens!/Consider my traveling expenses. Mayakovsky

Recently The Lay Pulpit blog featured two posts about "One Hand's" latest money-wasting junket to lovely, sunny Old Mexico -- an early spring getaway coming hard on the heels of his late winter vacation to gorgeous, summertime Argentina. (The links are here and here.) We Readers wonder when the cash-strapped zombie culties at SGG are going to insist that enough is enough. As the blogger noted, there was no need for Dannie to make a run for the border. México lindo already has an embarrassment of episcopal riches. Besides, as everyone knows, the priests could have performed the confirmations themselves.

But we all realize these trips are not about the spiritual good of the faithful, either in the U.S. or abroad. They're all about the theology of self-interest. "One-Hand Dan" anguishes daily as his prestige diminishes stateside. He can feel the searing contempt. The snide whispers burn his ears. He winces at the sneers, the dirty looks.  His own doubts loom like menacing shadows in the cemetery of his perished respectability. However, rather than reform, he heads south to rebuild his wrecked sense of self-worth through unneeded, unproductive, and costly foreign travel. We call it his apostolate of self-pity cum ego-state therapy.

You see, Dan's trying to make himself believe he's a well-loved, highly regarded, globe-trotting Catholic bishop(?) -- someone with status and purpose, not the despised plebeian failure he, in fact, is. Never mind that in one pueblito there were only eight confirmands. His Neediness must have, at any cost, consolation for all the well-earned disrespect Americans show him at every turn. And what could be better for wounded self-esteem than a colorful, noisy village fiesta so he can pretend he's Quetzalcoatl come home to roost in all his amaranthine plumage?

The travel might be justified if the Mexican chapels were paying the expenses. However, as The Lay Pulpit wrote, that's highly unlikely. We agree. We know Mexico. Traditionalist chapels down there are generally poor. The faithful who assist are the salt of the earth, but their cash resources are constrained. As a rule, it's all they can manage just to keep up their little chapels. Their priests often count on gringo patronage for extra cash in the form of Mass stipends or direct gifts. A bi-coastal, whirlwind tour with a leisurely sojourn for a few lazy days of grazing in the sprawling, cosmopolitan capital would have placed an intolerable financial burden on the locals.

Therefore, it makes sense to infer that U.S. culties got stuck with the tab. What a coincidence, considering all the latest news stories about Novus-Ordite episcopal excess.  Just last week, Papa Bergoglio fired that free-spender of the laity's money, the infamous German  Bishop of Bling. And how about the Atlanta archbishop's apology for his unconscionable extravagance? Maybe it's time the tapped-out "Gertrudians" take a close, long, emotionless look at the travel costs of SW Ohio's Winter-Weary Wandering Bishop(?).

Perhaps our own managerial experiences in reviewing expense accounts can guide the SGG lay auditors. For the sake of brevity, we'll confine ourselves to His Vagrancy's sightseeing tour in Mexico City, Distrito Federal (D.F.).  To be sure, His Errancy was mighty coy in his account. Nevertheless, we'll hazard a few guesses so "Gertrudians" can squeeze out the facts when they demand an accounting for this latest sun-kissed escapade.

Let's read what "One Hand" actually has to say about his arrival in monumental México De Efe (our emphasis):

There we were met by a Chilean priest, our old friend Fr. Mardones, and by Fr. Martin Gomez of Acapulco, now Dos Rios. We had dinner at an excellent Argentinean restaurant, consuming copious quantities of meat, as is the custom in these southern countries, even in Lent! We’re one of the few countries that do keep Lent and I’m happy to get back to it.    

The first set of questions "Gertrudians" should ask is, "Who is/are WE?" Is it the "papal we," or did Dannie bring along Fr. Hernán of Baja?  And who paid for Father's flight, and was it round-trip?

The second set is, where did Dannie stay in Mexico City, how much did it cost, and where did the money come from?

"One Hand's" remark about the Argentine restaurant may be a clue. The churrasquerías we know in D.F. are located in very upscale Polanco, the capital's Beverly Hills. In fact, both the Rincón Argentino and Camabalache are situated on Avenida Presidente Masaryk, Polanco's answer to Rodeo Drive. Mexico City is immense, so it might be likely that His Voraciousness opted to dine in the same high-priced neighborhood as his hotel.

The third is, who paid for the lodgings of the priests Hernán (if he accompanied Deacon Dan), Mardones, and Gómez, and where did they stay? In the same hotel as Wee Dannie? If they lodged on His Prodigality's nickel, how much did the bill total? ("Gertrudians" should check for room service and mini bar charges.)

The fourth question is, what was the entire cost for food and beverages during the Mexico City tour? 

The fifth question is, how much money did His Munificency hand out to the priests, either by way of stipends or subventions?

Mind you, these are questions relating solely to His Profligacy's holiday in the Mexican capital. They don't address other expenditures, such as the side trip to Puebla (about 70 miles away from D.F.) or the time in Baja and Dos Rios. We'll leave the formulation of those questions to the "Gertrudians." Once they get on a roll, there'll be no stopping 'em!

While they're holding His Spendthriftiness to account for his spree in the capital, "Gerties" shouldn't miss the opportunity to reprimand him for setting so bad an example by "consuming copious quantities of meat" during Lent. From Dining Dan's remarks, it sounds as though His Peckishness may well have ordered the parillada (mixed grill), a carnivore's gluttonous fantasy come-to-life: a super-sized platter groaning with thick blood sausages, plump chorizo, moist sweetbreads en brochette, juicy short ribs glistening with fat, char-broiled beef tenderloin, and several giant cuts of succulent, barbecued steak (perhaps washed down with a half-dozen icy bottles of Rojita, Mexican red pop).

Just imagine what a stomach-turning spectacle this motley dining party offered to the refined, elegant clientèle of exclusive and chic Polanco: a pack of ill-bred, chow-hound sede clergy boisterously gnawing their way through steaming piles of grilled carnage.

¡Ándale!

The ugliest part about it all is the Mexican government's anti-clerical policy. As a result, many educated élites have contempt for the Church. The sight of a norteamericano, grinning like a village idiot, accompanied by a posse of lip-smacking, palm-rubbing native clergy, pigging out during a season of penance would only have confirmed the official propaganda about religion and its unworthy ministers. A shame and a pity that His Pettifoggery resorted to crass legalism to dodge the soul-purifying sacrifices of Lent.

No one forced His Excessiveness to forsake the pious mortification we practice in the U.S. Leaving the country didn't automatically require him to leave U.S. Lenten practice behind as well. He could very easily have chosen not to take advantage of the relaxed discipline of a foreign land. Indeed, it would seem he had an obligation to remain faithful to the spirit of the season so as to demonstrate his solidarity with the hollow-eyed "Gerties" back home, who were left to slurp their thin, vegetarian soup. Most of the low-class cultie "rite-trash" can't afford de luxe spring vacations south of the Tropic of Cancer, where the rules are mitigated. However, instead of embracing sacrifice, His Non-Observancy elected to gorge himself on "copious quantities of meat" in front of a well-heeled but silently mocking crowd of his social superiors.

His Extravagancy also missed an opportunity to edify the Mexican priests who formed his ravenous entourage. Restraint on his part might have pricked their consciences. Contrary to what he suggests, not all Mexican or South American priests treat Lent with such scandalous contempt. Father Jaime Siordia, well accustomed to the austerities of the Italian seminary where he was trained, is known to keep Lent faithfully, giving his fellow countrymen a shining example of priestly self-control. Other Latin American clergy we know are equally observant.

The Bottom Line for the "Gerties" is this: The money His Wastefulness squandered on his silly adventure would have been better spent making repairs to the crumbling SGG infrastructure. Dannie doesn't need to travel: the only reason priests outside the cult suffer his presence is to get a handout and a free lunch. So...the next time Gold-Digging Dannie starts passing the hat when something needs a-fixin' at the shabby SW Ohio cult center, just say NO! 

His Opulency obviously has got cash to burn. 

MANIFOLD SINS AND WICKEDNESS

He's half-absolv'd who has confess'd. Prior

We ordinarily don't post the advice we give correspondents seeking guidance to cope with the malformed, terminally ignorant sede clergy who abuse the sacraments by turning them into blunt instruments of control. However, when we see an un-Catholic pattern developing, we head for the blogosphere.

The chief, abiding grievance seems to be the denial of absolution. Catholics tell us time and again how disgraceful sede-Trad confessors refuse absolution to rightly disposed penitents -- penitents who have made a declaration of their sorrow for the sins they confessed and who have professed a firm purpose of amendment. 

We've heard how sins never itemized in the penitent's self-accusation are broached by an intemperate confessor who thinks he's "Judge Judy." The newly introduced accusations then become the basis for the denial of absolution or for its postponement against the penitent's will. To some of these baffled souls, it seemed as if a villainous third party had fed the confessor the outré charges.

Just like all the sede-Trad clergy, we Readers are not theologians or canon lawyers. (These worthies don't exist any longer.) We cannot -- and will not --  presume to answer by our own lights. However, as we've said, we are, indeed,  R E A D E R S: we read and report what formally trained theologians and canonists from the past have opined. If the original is in Latin, we supply a scrupulously correct translation and an accurate transcription, unlike the unpardonable distortions of bumbling, incompetent Erroneous Antonius.

Today, though, we'll quote from a work written in English -- an extract of  E. J. Mitchell's 1965 Pontifical Lateran University thesis in canon law titled "The Obligation to Absolve According to Canon 886."* In Fr. Mitchell's opinion, the denial of absolution

to a disposed penitent is an outright act of injustice against that penitent and an offense against the common good of the ecclesial society. It is precisely to prevent this latter inversion of justice that the Church has promulgated canon 886: «If the confessor has no reason to doubt the proper disposition of the penitent who asks for absolution, he may neither deny nor defer absolution.» (Page 49, emphasis in the original.)

It's important to note that Fr. Mitchell, citing Cappello, cautioned that before issuing his denial, "the confessor must have certitude of the indispositions or incapability of the penitent. Probability or grave suspicion are [sic] not sufficient." (Page 47, emphasis ours.)

In a case of postponement, which is a common trick scandalously malformed clerical insects play, Mitchell concludes that 

the deferment of absolution to a disposed penitent against his will is no longer tenable and cannot be justified by an appeal to the purpose of canon 886, an implicit consent of the penitent, pre-Code solidarity, or a doubt of law. (Page 53.)

All this wouldn't help anybody with a stupid and/or malevolent confessor, even in the "good ol' days."  Mitchell frankly commented that although "[t]he penitent's right to absolution is both subjective and canonical...this right is not coercible through determined sanctions." (Page 53).

Basically, you were -- and, even more so today, are -- plain out of luck procedurally if your confessor is a scofflaw. (But, oh, that's right! For sede clericalist bottom-feeders, the law applies to the laity, not to the clergy, doesn't it?)

Fr. Mitchell did end with some practical advice, which everyone should follow: "The ultimate canonical protection of an individual penitent's right to absolution is found in his free choice of a confessor." (Page. 53).  Admittedly, that's tough to do in the current crisis, where there might not be another traditional priest in the area. Therefore, until you can get to another city to find priest with a conscience who respects the law's binding power on the clergy, there's always available perfect contrition to find your peace with Christ.

Now, for those out there who are sick of these scum clerics AND who are disposed to assert their rights, we do have a personal suggestion, grounded on Fr. Mitchell's study. If you find yourself having  confessed all your sins,  expressed your sorrow, declared your firm purpose of amendment, and  still the slimebag confessor demands, under threat of denial or postponement of absolution, that you confess and be contrite for sins of which you are innocent and with which you have never charged yourself:

1. Calmly but firmly give him notice that, as a rightly disposed penitent, you have a right to absolution and you are unwilling to defer absolution; inform him he has both a moral and juridic obligation to absolve. 

2. Let him know that you have thoroughly examined your conscience and brought before him a complete bill of self-accusations for his judgment.

3. Emphasize that you have unequivocally (a) demonstrated your sorrow and (b) made a firm purpose of amendment. Moreover, remind him that you have absolutely petitioned for absolution. (N.B. You must be so firm and directive that only a blithering idiot or a depraved control freak could not form a prudent and probable judgment concerning your right dispositions.)

4. Make it clear (a) that you will not suffer deferment of absolution and (b) that you are not asking for false mercy.

5. Assert in a forceful tone of voice your innocence of the sins he has illicitly introduced into the tribunal's proceedings and demand to know his source.** (N.B. Don't mistake wrongful pressure to force you to own a sin that isn't yours for a legitimate attempt to rightly dispose you.)

6. Finally, caution him regarding his own spiritual peril if he denies you absolution.

Without a doubt, the piece of sacerdotal filth will refuse, or the sick creep may ask for a postponement to "confer with another priest." At that point, loudly protest:

Father, before God, I assert my right to absolution. Canon 886 is a positive legislative guarantee to my right as a well-disposed penitent here and now to immediate absolution, and you are legally obligated to absolve me.

Don't expect compliance. Bear in mind that the majority of these cretinous priests operate under extreme educational and intellectual disabilities. (Most, if not all, are unfit to work as part-time bag boys at a slum discount store.) Consequently, when, with demon-hardened heart, the control-obsessed monster stubbornly refuses you again, declare him an outlaw and briskly walk out, never to return to his hell-hole of a chapel.

Tweet your friends to encourage them to leave, too.  And although the confessor's reprehensible behavior has alienated you from the sacrament of penance in your area, there's always available, as we said above, the act of perfect contrition until you find a worthy, genuinely Catholic priest to hear your confession and grant you, a sincerely repentant sinner, your right to forgiveness.

Certainly, not everyone has the pluck to defend his or her rights in the face of sinful priestly abuse. Lots of people want to avoid confrontation or they feel intimidated. (Although, we candidly ask, how could anyone be intimidated by these clerical gerbils?) One way to avoid a showdown is to steer clear of any priest who manifests cultist traits, notwithstanding hollow claims of independence.

As a general rule of thumb, a priest who has contact with sede kingpins -- even a casual relationship --  is ipso facto an unworthy priest and confessor, even if he has never denied you absolution. And it goes without saying that any priest ordained by "One-Hand Dan" may not be a valid priest at all.

If any of these these dregs of the priesthood had lived in your neighborhood when you were a child, your dad would have ordered to stay away from such riffraff, and your mom would've forbidden you to play in their trashy yard.

REMEMBER: A CHRISTIAN HAS A SUBJECTIVE RIGHT TO THE MEANS NECESSARY FOR SALVATION. DON'T TAKE NO FOR AN ANSWER FROM A TOXIC MANIPULATOR WHO HAS MADE THE SACRAMENT OF PENANCE ODIOUS.

*Although we don't believe the 1917 Code of Canon Law is in effect during the crisis, most U.S. sede clergy and those affiliated with them affirm it is, so the quotation and subsequent argument are apropos.

**In addition, insist on an explanation of why the confessor-introduced sin is mortal, if you think it isn't. These dopes are grossly ignorant and malformed, like Scut and the Skipper, who invent all sorts of new mortal sins.  (Here's a new example of what we mean: one of the completers once preached that it's a mortal sin not to attend the daily Mass offered at a cult chapel. LOL. Honestly, you can't make this stuff up!)

SAME OLD, SAME OLD

When you're stupid, nothing can be done. Écône's Canon René Berthod (Tony Baloney's translation)

Sometimes we Readers, setting aside our modesty, get the warm feeling Providence actively favors our apostolate.

On the very day we posted "A Tale of Two Faces," where we reminded the cult masters of "Perigrinus's" disparaging remarks about Abp. Thục's Latin, our Boneheaded Pilgrim from remotest Tradistan had the temerity to blog about that very topic.

Commenting on a priest's recollections of (1) Thục's teaching himself Spanish in order to teach Latin in that language and (2) the archbishop's impressive oral fluency in Latin, the Blunderer, apparently unaware of his own self-condemnation, had this to say:

I can assure readers that none of the clergy I know who have attacked Abp. Thuc could pull off either one of these feats. And if you doubt that, you might want to ask one of them!

Well, taking to heart the ancient Delphic maxim γνῶθι σεαυτόν ("know thyself"), we challenge Tony Baloney to question "Peregrinus" on everyone's behalf.  You rabid culties out there may also want to put the same question to him. However, before you do it, today we have a little reminder of Tony's linguistic disabilities, with brand new examples that might coax a straight answer out of the nescient oracle of Sedelandia.

Since 2010, Pistrina has documented Checkie's terminal difficulties with the Church's holy tongue. His embarrassingly shoddy Work of Human Hands fairly bristles with errors of the worst sort. In addition, after our extended 2013 exposé, friend and foe alike know in minute detail all the scholarly defects of his now-discredited monograph "Validity of Ordination Conferred with One Hand": gross mistranslation of infallible papal teaching (bad enough to alter its substance), howling errors in transcription, unwarranted addition of words, faulty renderings, etc., etc., etc.

So tenuous is the Blunderer's grasp of Latin that no one ought to accept anything he's written until someone competent retranslates all citations based on Latin originals. This caveat is especially applicable to his widely circulated 1995 pamphlet "Traditionalists, Infallibility and the Pope" (or TIP, for short), of which the True Restoration blog wrote on July 5, 2013, "To this day, that article has never been answered by any individual or group."

Perhaps the reason for all the silence is that substandard scholarship doesn't deserve an answer in the first place.

The chief failure of the little brochure is that Checkie does not supply the original Latin texts for his quotations, upon which the gravamen of his argument depends.  You are left to assume the translations are accurate.  Yet how can anyone make that assumption with any confidence?  Without the originals available for comparison, no one can trust in the accuracy of the Blunderer's translations, given Pistrina's solid documentation of his handicap with the language.

To be sure, we understand the inclusion of original Latin texts would have greatly enlarged TIP, the real audience of which is the lowest-common-denominator sede-Trad, who'd have no use for the material. To be sure, if the Blunderer's translations in his other works were reliable, we'd be willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But that's not the case, is it? You've all seen for yourselves just how grave his errors are.

Nevertheless, in fairness, the Readers agreed to thumb through TIP to see if the same types of blunders prevail. After all, Tony Baloney might have appealed to some halfway intelligent help on such an effort. What with the skeptical Novus Ordo and SSPX world watching, he'd want to cross all the t's and dot all the i's, right?

Wrong! Or if he did have some help, the jerk was as hopeless as the Bonehead.

Unfortunately (and as expected), our initial sampling of TIP found the same classes of problems that disfigure the Checkmeister's other failed efforts at playing the scholar. Today we'll look at a few that immediately popped out in our rapid survey of what the True Restoration blogger somewhat grandly called a "landmark" article.

We'll take the errors in order of severity. (Bracketed numerals identify the specific blunder.) 

CAUTION: HEAVY GRAMMATICAL CONSTRUCTION ZONE AHEAD

(We do hope you'll stay for the ride, though. There's plenty of skewered Cheeseball to make up for the slow going.)

TIP Blunders 1 and 2: On p. 20, 3rd full paragraph, quote from Coronata, Tony Baloney translates as follows (our emphasis): "Such impeccability was never promised by God." Yet in the original Latin text, the word he mistakes for "never" is nullibi, which means "nowhere" [1]. ("Never" is nun[m]quam, or non umquam). The Blunderer's mistranslation robs the sentence of its nuance and lawyerly precision: "...was (or has been) nowhere [i.e., in Revelation] promised by God." This moron should buy a good Latin-English dictionary -- and learn how to use it. Let's add that he also failed to translate the pronoun ipsi in the original: "haec impeccabilitas ipsi nullibi a Deo promissa est, i.e., this impeccability was (or has been) nowhere promised to him [viz., the Roman Pontiff] by God" [2].

TIP Blunder 3: Throughout TIP, Checkie quotes but a few isolated Latin words, so you'd imagine he'd try at least to get all of them right, wouldn't you? If you did, you poor innocent, then you're in for a big disappointment. On page 23, last paragraph, he spells repugnantiam as repugnatiam. Good grief! Wouldn't you think the English cognates repugnant and repugnance would've told him that the Latin must have an n, too?

TIP Blunders 4, 5, 6 and 7: On page 25, in the quotation from Wernz and Vidal, he translates the phrase "omnem sententiam declaratoriam" as "any declaratory judgment" (our bold). The correct translation is "every." The Blunderer's sloppy and inaccurate "any" fails to preserve the nicely exact legal idiom of the original [4]. But what else would you expect him?

In the line above Blunder 4 on the same page, the Cheeseball prints this: "the Roman Pontiff...is deemed to be deprived of the power of jurisdiction..." The original Latin reads "R. Pontifex...sua potestate iurisdictionis privatus existit..." (our emphases). The word sua does not mean "the," but rather "his own," and existit, an active voice verb, means "emerges, appears, becomes, proves to be, shows oneself." Hence, an accurate translation is: "The Roman Pontiff...becomes deprived of his own power of jurisdiction..." Again, the Blunderer's habitual inattention to detail, slovenly guesswork, and itch to gild the lily rule in place of accuracy, precision of expression, and fidelity to the intrinsic meaning of the original [5, 6].

Toward the end of the same paragraph on p. 25, the Blunderer translates "etiam ipso facto cessat esse caput Ecclesiae" as "he would also cease to be head of the Church," grossly neglecting to translate (or retain) the phrase ipso facto [7]. That phrase is stylistically and jurisprudentially necessary, for it repeats the same phrase in the preceding studiedly parallel clause, viz., "ipso facto desineret esse membrum Ecclesiae." (See below for our comments on the imbecile's wrong translation of the present active indicative cessat as "would cease.")

O.K., kids.  Pause and take a deep breath....

At this juncture, we're going to excavate the syntactical BIG boo-boos, so put on to your grammar hard hats! We'll understand if you want to skip the next two sections and head straight for the conclusion below ("THE BOTTOM LINE").

TIP Blunders 8, 9, and 10: We'll stay on p. 25 with Wernz, Vidal, still at Blunder 7. (Can you believe one little paragraph has so many blunders?) Here's the entire sentence in the original (our emphases):

At Papa, qui incideret in haeresim publicam, ipso facto desineret esse membrum Ecclesiae; ergo etiam ipso facto cessat esse caput Ecclesiae.

The fatuous Phony Tony translates it: "A pope who falls into public heresy would cease ipso facto to be a member of the Church; therefore, he would also cease to be head of the Church" (our emphases).

Let's point out immediately that Phony Tony neglected to translate at ("but"), the conjunction introducing the minor premise of a first-figure syllogism [8]. (Tone, for some odd reason, doesn't translate the major premise, although it would have helped his argument. Alas, "when you're stupid....") Please note that here, owing to its logical significance, at is not one of those connectors that can be arbitrarily omitted in translation.

Now, moving on to the really problematic goof ups, first observe that incideret is imperfect (active subjunctive),* yet the Latin-less Bonehead translates it as the present (active indicative) "falls" [9]!  Next observe how that he translates the present active indicative cessat as "would...cease," using the -- forgive our exactness -- central epistemic preterit modal auxiliary would, which in English often renders a Latin subjunctive [10].  The translation is plain wrong. Cessat must be translated as an English present active indicative because the original text is merely making a declarative statement about a liability created by operation of law.

Not surprisingly, the Blunderer, as is his nature, completely misses the point, both semantically and legally. The only genuinely hypothetical notion is in the main verb of the first clause, desineret, an imperfect active potential subjunctive used independently.  The other two verbs can or must be translated as indicatives in the appropriate tense. Here's an accurate translation of the whole thing: "But a pope who fell ** into public heresy would have ceased*** ipso facto (or by that very fact) to be a member of the Church; therefore,  he also ceases ipso facto [or by that very fact] to be the head of the Church."

TIP Blunders 11, 12 and 13: Back on page 20, just below the middle of the page, we find something similar to the errors we've just exposed. Let's first look at the Blunderer's translation followed by the Latin original (emphases on translation blunders ours):

Wherefore, if the Roman Pontiff were to profess heresy, before any condemnatory sentence (which would be impossible anyway) he would lose his authority. Proinde si R. Pontifex haeresim profiteatur ante quamcumque sententiam, quae impossibilis est, sua auctoritate privatur.

Here the Checkmeister does indeed accurately render the present deponent subjunctive profiteatur in the protasis of a "future-less-vivid" condition with indicative apodosis. "Were to" (along with "should") is a common option. However, he fatally stumbles with the two remaining verbs: Est is present indicative, so it cannot mean "would be" [11], and the present passive indicative privatur cannot be translated with the past-tense modal auxiliary would [12].**** And, true to his usual, heedless self, the Cheeseball adds without warrant the adverb anyway, to which there is no corresponding word in the original Latin [13]: it's a pure invention on Tony's part. Perhaps a little special pleading, or just rhetorical seasoning?

A close translation is: "Consequently, if the Roman Pontiff should (or were to) profess heresy before any sentence at all,***** which is impossible, he is deprived of his authority." In choosing the present indicative est, the original  merely paraphrases canon 1556, which states the legal fact that no man judges a Sovereign Roman Pontiff; privatur is present indicative because the original text expresses an event occurring by operation of law. However, the Bonehead can't see the obvious, and since he doesn't have an educated feel for Latin syntax, he makes desperate guesses based on his "gut."

THE BOTTOM LINE

Let's face it: The Cheeseball's blunted TIP is no "landmark" study. It couldn't qualify as a term paper in a down-market community college in the Ozarks. It's a promotional leaflet for the cult written for a general, lay readership disaffected by the changes wrought through the Modernist Putsch at Vatican II. (Just ripe for the plucking!)

Its central message -- a heretical pope loses his office -- was old news back in 1995 when the pamphlet was printed. That proposition has been advanced -- and disputed -- for centuries. (BTW, see our 2011 post, "An Inclination to Injustice," for a chilling reminder of what happens when someone intelligent thinks independently on this opinion.)

Even if all the citations were retranslated and the original texts faithfully transcribed, TIP would never merit serious consideration by scholars and properly formed churchmen, just as no professional student of Elizabethan literature would use the Lambs' Tales from Shakespeare to assess the Bard's contribution to English drama. Since the Blunderer will never issue a corrected version of anything, Traddies everywhere should ignore TIP.

It's important to bear in mind that the 13 blunders detailed above (a) occurred on just three pages of a 32-page booklet and (b) came from just three of the 18 references works listed in the bibliography. These blunders may be just the tip of an iceberg of error. How many more goofs await inspection? No one knows yet,****** so here's a tip from the Readers: send your copy of TIP to the recycling center.

Clearly, no one, least of all zombie cultie "rite-trash," should base an important decision about religion on this sloppy pulp leaflet. Our advice is to adopt Pistrina's position of aliquid pravi:

Something, no one's not exactly sure what, is terribly wrong in the Vatican establishment. Anyone else who feels similarly, whether SSPXer, conservative Novus Ordite, FSSPer, or Traddie of any stripe, is a Catholic worthy of fraternal respect, assistance, and fellowship (as long as they're not associated with the Terrible Trio).

* More fully it's a "generic" imperfect active causal subjunctive in a parenthetical relative clause.

** The "generic" subjunctive often was used for descriptive force alone and accordingly is frequently translated as an indicative. However, since the subjunctive in this construction is potential, a modal can be used to describe a person "with reference to his...potentialities, not with reference to some real act committed or being committed" (Woodcock, §155). Accordingly, we wouldn't have objected if he had rendered the verb modally as "would have fallen" even though it's imperfect (see below). But the ignorant Blunderer just plain erred when he translated incideret as "falls."

***The potential imperfect subjunctive is often best translated as an English perfect (so called "real perfect with have"), when it denotes an action conceivable, i.e., one that might have taken place.  That's the subtlety we wished to bring out. But note that this is not a criticism of Checkie's translation of desineret as "would ...cease."  It's acceptable, though linguistically unsophisticated.  Latinists may wish to compare the clause to Cicero's In Verrem, IV 23, 52: qui videret equum Troianum introductum, urbem captam diceret, "anyone who saw that the Trojan horse had been conducted inside, would have said it was a captured city."

****We concede it is not absolutely necessary to preserve the original voice, so that's why we don't cite an additional error; nevertheless, we don't think that lose is the best semantic solution to an awkward passive rendering in English, since privare means "to debar from the possession or use of something," something quite different from mere loss.

***** The Blunderer adds the word "condemnatory," probably by way of interpretation. We won't quibble here, but it would have been better just to translate quamcumque a little more carefully to bring out a subtler range of meaning.

****** Well, actually, we do know for a fact that there're more blunders. For instance, on the same p, 25, in the quotation from Udalricus Beste, the Blunderer leaves out one of the key qualifiers in a phrase. Checkie translates "by falling into certain insanity," but the Latin reads "certam et insanabilem amentiam" -- certain and incurable insanity." From a juridical point view, the missing words are crucial to define the additional criterion for loss of pontifical dignity.  What was he thinking? Did he stupidly confuse insanabilem for insanibilem?

Quand on est bête, on ne peut rien faire. Isn't that right, Canon Berthod, wherever you are?