Saturday, November 22, 2014


In an attempt to respond (so quickly he even didn't waste time putting on his zucchetto and shoulder cape)  in a sensitive pastoral manner to the concerns expressed (repeatedly and loudly) by the ever submissive, yet never submitting, boys over at RetRorate, His Holiness Pope Francis convened the gang of cardinal advisers to discuss the ways in which they could make Sunday's canonization of six new saints longer (=holier).

They decided to implement the following.

Immediately after the invocation (Father, Son and Holy Spirit GHOST) the Franciscan Friars  of the Immaculate (all fifteen left) will chant, recto tono, the complete Roman Martyrology.
After the Gospel,  all seven versions of the Nicene Creed will be recited in Latin and Greek and the vernacular language of each newly canonized saint.

At the conclusion of Mass, before the recession, all four Marian Antiphons will be chanted as a round,  by the Three Irish Tenors.

Friday, November 21, 2014


The Most Reverend Robert Morlino of the Diocese of Madison (Zed's Bishop for intents and purposes) does not like his photo taken. Really.  When a reporter, at a public talk, in a public location, by a public leader, would not stop taking his picture, The Most Reverend Bishop stopped the presentation, and moved it to St. Augustine University
Parish, the Catholic student center on campus, which is  property owned by the diocese.

As you can see, the Most Reverend XXXtrordinary  ordinary does NOT like to have his photo taken. Respect, please journalists. Respect.  Geez. He don't get no respect

Okay, the constant clicking was distracting. The brightness of the flash made it hard to look up during the talk. 

The threat of being cornered into a selfie was outright terrifying (and a violation of diocesan boundaries protocols) never mind that Pope Francis seems to love having them taken. 

But the last get-your-face-outta-my-space came when the reporter whipped out the wide angle lens. That's just plain cruel. 

Tuesday, November 18, 2014


The real reason Father Z went to Paris and bravely stayed in that horrible Le (sic) Hôtel Sans Internet.

Six hour drive with a nice overnight stay in a religious house.

The hills are alive!
In the town of Ecône



Ad multos annos, Archbishop Blase Cupich

"We cannot engage in real dialogue unless we are conscious of our 
own identity," as Pope Francis reminds us. But then he adds: "Nor can there be authentic dialogue unless we are capable of opening our minds and hearts, in empathy and sincere receptivity, to those with whom we speak . . . We are challenged to listen not only to the words which others speak, but to the unspoken communication of their experiences, their hopes and aspirations, their struggles and their deepest concerns . . . If our communication is not to be a monologue, there has to be openness of heart and mind to accepting individuals and cultures."

Archbishop-elect Blase Cupich
Homily, Reception at Holy Name Cathedral
November 17, 2014


as you succeed His Eminence

Werner Cardinal Klemperer

"What are you doing here?"
"That's one of the things I'd like to have the chance to ask him, if I ever get over there. Do you realize what has happened, just by that very phrase 'Who am I to judge?' How it's been used and misused? It has been very misused. Why doesn't he himself clarify these things? Why is it necessary that apologists have to bear that burden of trying to put the best possible face on it? Does he not realize the consequences of some of his statements, or even some of his actions? Does he not realize the repercussions? Perhaps he doesn't. I don't know whether he's conscious of all the consequences of some of the things he's said and done that raise these doubts in people's minds."

Francis Cardinal George
Interview with John Allen, Crux
November 17, 2014

Monday, November 17, 2014


Well, it's all but official.

They're off.

No, not just that kind of "off" (that was obvious even to me)

"Off" as in "taking off" . . . . 


Our most famous converts in recent years have had a rough year and a half. See, every Pope Benedict fart had a whiff of incense about it and the weight of infallibility. Papa Francesco not so much. These converts have clearly had it with the "Church of Nice" when they were counting on joining the "Church of Mean" so they're on the road again . . . toward really mean Ecône.

OK, they haven't come right out and said it, but do you think Fr. D is stupid or something? (Raise your hand if you want to answer and don't speak until you're called on!)

But whether it's RetRorate's drooling over Sandra Magister-Bator, Reverend Mother Cunniwicke's proposed new papal encyclical Stercus Accidit, Father Z-It's-Me-Back-From-Gay-Pahree teaming up with Michael Voris' hair, or even the Kraziest Katholic in the Kloset . . . they've had it and They. Are. Outta. Here. 

Who knew all it took was a kindly Pope who loves Jesus and the little folks to send this whole angry nasty gang who love only maniples and themselves off to annoy their NEXT Church?

Of course, what Ecône's going to do with all those ex-Anglicans with their committee-cobbled-together liturgies, wives and unsightly facial hair, who knows. Though there is some precedent.

Well, you know how I love to make people laugh and help them have a good time, especially this gang if they'll finally just leave and leave the rest of us alone.

So I've worked out a travel deal to send them on their way!

Fr. D's Re-Conversion Cruise 2014

Ship ahoy! It's Princess Cruises' "Crown Princess"

Is a Princess close enough to a Queen for this gang?

It's even got a LATIN code name: NOROVIRUS!

Have a nice trip . . . oh and DLTDHY, etc.

Or for a beautiful example of the Traditional Latin version of the official Re-Conversion Cruise 2014 "Ecône Anthem," here's Urbs Jerusalem Beata courtesy of New Liturgical Bowel Movement):

DISCLAIMER: Fr. D. is not responsible for vulgarities left by traditionalist Catholics whose heroes I've insulted with my good-natured attempts at humor, especially when those comments are posted during the night after their usual hang-outs have closed down or are being monitored by the police. I don't mind you nutty people having some laughs on me but there's no need to use nasty, dirty words. You kiss your mom or the altar or the gospel book or your framed portrait of Pope What's-His-Name with those lips? Tsk, tsk, tsk!

Sunday, November 16, 2014


OK - I lied. It wasn't Parma. But at least it started with a "P"!

"How you gonna keep 'em down in tacky Madison

Once I landed, it was time for friends (my hosts, actually, and since they are ontologically-inferior to me, aka PEASANT-LAITY, paying for my food the way the SHEEPLE on my blog paid for the plane ride) to feed me tout-suite, as we who parley-vous say.

Alas, they didn't come up with much, just a few goodies (but after the two meals on the flight over, it hit the spot!):

On the way home, we stuck our heads into St. Germain-sur-le-Toilette, near the Louvre. I saw on the schedule that they have the Extraordinary Form there: Mais oui, quoth I (I always try to use one of the many languages I've mastered), a STIPEND!  Thus, when I got home, I shot the place an email, using the high-end laptop provided by you gullible fools devoted readers, with the request that I might be able to say a paying Mass at the church.  This is one of the problems for a priest when traveling: finding a friendly place to say Mass where they don’t force you into a purgatory of concelebration, meaning YOU GET A STIPEND! 
Afterwards, I spoke with whom I assume to be the parish priest: he didn't have a half-cape or biretta on, and looked like he was working, so who knows?  He recognized me right away (as often happens: I'm just so gosh darn famous - and handsome!). As he walked away, he was muttering something in French (it's amazing how everyone here in Paris learns to speak French when they're very young - unlike people in the States, except the home-schoolers who are so smart they pay most of my bills).  We couldn’t chat long, because he wanted to greet people after Mass (why would you want to do that AFTER Mass, when they've already put something in the collection? Do it before so they think you actually care). Also he probably didn't want to be seen with me. But I think I may be on for their Thursday evening TLM (I still have to make sure there's a hefty stipend attached to it).  I still need a place for daily Mass but … I brought my Mass kit, complete with my SPORCH traveling altar cards - so keep sending in those STIPENDS!):

By now, it had been a full two hours since my last meal. Where to eat? What to eat? For supper I started with snails.  What else, given the way I was feeling by this time: like the pampered slug I am, dragging my ass along with my military Mass kit on my back.

And a beef casserole.  It wasn’t Boeuf bourgignon, but one of its numerous regional iterations.  The carrots had a touch of cumin, which was nice - and I think it's best I don't say any more about the cumin, remembering how some nasty Kasper/Forte types misinterpreted my fondness for spotted dick during one of my many laity-funded food junkets to Merrie Olde Englande back when the big bucks were flowing my way (before even LAYPEOPLE started catching on to my shell game).

Now to find a midnight snack: it's been another hour or so.
Prayers for you gullible peasant laity payees readers during my perambulations. This is a bit of a vacation for me, in that I get to be a tourist, I don’t have anything in particular that I have to do here (conference, talk, errands, hook-ups, as I always have in Rome, NYC, etc.) - ha ha kind of like Madison, though I do have to buy fabric, show the seminarians my powerpoint presentation on clown Masses, puppets and liturgical abuses in Argentina, and feed that enormous Bishop (no small feat that last chore!). I haven’t been to Paris for years. I don’t know the city all that well, so it is fun to reacquaint myself and do some exploring . . . if you get my drift . . . oooo la la (some more Francais there!). I am straining at the leash (you remember that famous 5.11 leash!) . . . 'nuf said!
Hey, what are you thinking?

DISCLAIMER: Fr. D. is not responsible for vulgarities left by traditionalist Catholics whose heroes I've insulted with my good-natured attempts at humor, especially when those comments are posted during the night after their usual hang-outs have closed down or are being monitored by the police. I don't mind you nutty people having some laughs on me but there's no need to use nasty, dirty words. You kiss your mom or the altar or the gospel book or your framed portrait of Pope What's-His-Name with those lips? Tsk, tsk, tsk!

Saturday, November 15, 2014


I hope the plane makes it to Parma in time for liturgy...

I am at the airport awaiting the first leg of a trip to a destination. I won’t have to “work” there. This is for fun. And it is a place I haven’t been to for quite a long time, years in fact. (My home diocese where I am incardinated) I am grateful to the good people/regular readers who have arranged the whole thing. Alas, the three of you couldn't afford first class, or an actual licensed air line. 

It’ll work out so that I’m back for Sunday Mass. Stipends keep the my belly full. 
I’ll have time on the trip to think, which I do so rarely these days.