At age five, 1954, "the Bishop" (Chicago's Cardinal Stritch) stood over me and said, I had to "stop babbling" about what the priest did to me. It took me 40 years to talk about it again. Today, I babble.

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Saturday, December 19, 2009

Let donations fall off organically. These bishops need prosecution

Here is a sample from a post I just put up at City of Angels 2 :

Okay there’s this buzz in the “survivor community” to stop giving money to the Catholic Church because of its pedophile priests. I assume this means you would still go to the Church every Sunday and stay for their after service Donuts and Coffee. You will be putting your body heat in their air conditioned building, drinking their wine, eating their Eucharist wafers.

It’s deceiving to go to a Church and not give it money. It's false, misleading. It’s like … how do I explain this.

A few years back, after going on antidepressants, mandatory as we were in a homeless shelter, I remember the way the drug made me feel. It did indeed control my mood. It was like a steel grip, a vice, was at the top of my brain and then steel-like tentacles reached out from the vice and just held my brain in this grip.

I bring all this up now because as I observe people stuck in that religion so bad that they don't want to give it another dime, but they'll still file in its doors at least once a week, I think of that vice like grip the antidepressant drug had on me.

A Steel Vice-Like Grip

It looks a lot like a zip file, when you download several documents at once into your Word folders, then go to open them, the icon will look like this vice like grip, with steel-looking tentacles wrapped around and protecting the openings to what's inside the documents.

The steel grip of Catholicism is like a zip file in their brains. Turn the icon in your computer sideways, put it on top of your head, that's what it feels like to be on anti-deperessants when you really don't need them, and it’s much the same as the grip the Church has on people who think the best way to protest against child sex abuse in the church is to stop donating to the church.

You're still walking in the church doors, you're still giving them power in numbers by your presence, you're still listening to their mind altering even hypnotizing, often untrue, sermons they preach, and then there’s that mesmerizing group prayer they do, everyone repeating the same words in a droning monotone.

Yeah, maybe Ray and Jim and Bill and Dave are all correct.

It is brainwashing, only it's a year 1300 state of the art form of brainwashing.

IT'S Dishonest to Go to a Church and then not put money in its baskets.

You're eating their Eucharist, breathing their air conditioned air


Asking the bishops to resign, or asking the pope to fire the bishops, doesn't really accomplish much either.

Those out of work bishops will not stand in any welfare office lines, they will still never drive east of La Cienega or the equivalent in whatever city they're in. Worse yet, some Catholic person with a lot of money who doesn't like the poor will instead provide for the out of work bishop with a home, a stipend, a couple of servants, a car. On a beach probably in some perfect climate.

The bishops belong in prison.

The church needs to feel the full brunt of people not coming in its doors anymore. It’s an organization so full of dishonesty and filth going back probably more than a thousand years, if that's where you think you're going to find God, my hat is off to you, my friend. Good luck.


Email to me just now said hurting them in the pocketbooks is the only thing they feel.

True, but I say, if you stop donating, it's the local church that suffers.

Why not just find a church where you trust the pastors.

But the emailer did make a good point: He could eat a few of their donuts, and it's like getting money back after his family had donated to the local archdiocese for all those decades, like getting money back from Bernie Madoff ...

I think I'm lucky I stopped going to Catholic Church at age 13.


I got on the pills because Lizzie and I were living at Hope Again’s shelter for homeless women at the time. Nowadays, if you are in a shelter like that, they insist you go get on medication, I mean, I didn't need medication. I was depressed because we’d been living in our car for six months, and well, my dad was murdered in 1997 and the woman also embezzled his money, so I lost my inheritance to a murderer and was living on the street 6 years later. Yeah I was a little depressed.

My Catholic friends tell me that withholding donations is the best activism about pedophile priests you will get from Catholics, they'll never leave their churches. Some call it brainwashing, I don't think that's the right word for it.


Can't seem to do a hiatus this year...


Just arrived by email this minute:

An Irishman goes into the confessional box after years of being away from the Church.

There's a fully equipped bar with Guinness on tap. On the other wall is a dazzling array of the finest cigars and chocolates.

Then the priest comes in. "Father, forgive me, for it's been a very long time since I've been to confession, but I must first admit that the confessional box is much more inviting than it used to be."

The priest replies: "Get out. You're on my side."


From Irish Central:

Bishops battling each other in Irish Catholic Church abuse scandal

The Wolfhound: Let's avoid 'Mass' lunacy on Christmas


Oops, meant to say:

"The bishops who let children be raped belong in prison."

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

An Elderly Man is slowly walking down a street, when he sees a male friend.

He walks over to his friend and whispers something to him. The friend laughs and slaps Old Man’s shoulder.

The Old Man continues down street; sees a church, pauses, and slowly walks up the church steps and enters.

He looks around semi-dark building, and sees two people waiting to enter the confessional.

Slowly, he makes way behind a man standing next the confession box. He whispers something into man’s ear. The man looks at the Elderly Gent and smiles. When the man enters the box, the Old Man crosses to where a woman is standing and whispers something into her ear, too. She looks aghast and slaps him.

When a place in the confessional becomes vacant, the Old Man enters. The priest opens the slide and immediately, the old Man says, “I’m 92 years old and I had intercourse with a 19 year old woman!”

The priest asks: “Are you married?”

The Old Man replies: “Yes, of course I’m married.”

The priest continues: “Is this woman your wife?”

The Old Man answers: “No, of course not.”

The priest says: “Well, as a Catholic, you know that you committed adultery.”

The Old man says: “I'm no Catholic!”

The shocked priest then asks: “Why are you in here, telling me this?”

The Old Man replies: “Because, I’m telling everybody!”