A Dream of Hell

 I have two sedevacantist friends. One is named Julian. He is blind and has diabetes. The other is Tom. He has the cancer. I talk to them and they talk to each other. Julian and Tom had a falling out because Julian told Tom not to use bad language and Tom thought there was nothing wrong with it.

Julian had a dream that Tom was falling into hell and was asking Julian to help him. And Julian told him to stop using bad language. So now Julian thinks Tom is bad for using curse words, not blasphemies or using the Lord's name in vain, but common dirty words. And he is in mortal sin and will go to hell if he does not stop using them.

Anyway yesterday was my birthday. My father got me a computer. It was cheap. But it is good. It has a backlit keyboard and a touch screen. But it only cost 309 dollars. Computers are cheap now. It is a chromebook, so it is a budget computer. I am glad. My old computer still works except that the keyboard is broken. Not the whole keyboard, but some of the keys. I am listening to a lot of Dr. Matthew Raphael Johnson's radio shnows. I like him. He is Russian Orthodox. A priest of on of the more conservative jurisdictions that is not in communion with many of the other ones. He had a religious crisis and investigated all the Christian Churches. He went to St. Marys and talked to the SSPX. And he thought the Novus Ordo was a joke. But he decided that the Eastern Orthodox were right. The Greeks were right. And later he was ordained a priest. He says everything you know about the world or history is wrong.

I hope Tom is not in disgrace. I love Tom and Julian both. I wish they would not argue. 

The Fly

 

Today is Friday. I go to Eucharistic Adoration and Benediction at the local Church. In case Jesus is still there, I go to honor Him. At three I pray the stations in front of the monstrance and then I pray the Rosary. Fifteen decades. There is the fly. The devil comes to bother me for a few moments, buzzing around my ears. I finish praying and go home. At six thirty I go for Benediction. I pray and think and meditate and pray. The fly returns. The devil buzzes around me ears. To and fro, here and there. Just before the ceremony begins, the fly lands on my right hand. I feel him. I do not move. Then the fly goes away, the devil buzzes around my ears. I look at Jesus, if Jesus is still really there. I think He is. Julian does not. Julian once told me that his mother used to go to Benediction and one time she told him that when she looked at the monstrance she did not see the face of Jesus, but instead she saw the face of the devil. I think Jesus is there. But if he is not the devil can not harm me. I am not afraid of the devil. Sometimes I fear God's justice. That I have sinned so much that I cannot be forgiven. But usually I am fine. I pray to Jesus and to Mary and to Gemma.

Being visited by flies as I pray in the Church is a recurring theme. It is never a fly. It is the devil. The Lord of the Flies. He wants to distract me or to make me afraid.

It is something I have been doing since I got out of the hospital. I do not like the Novus Ordo. But I think it is valid. So Jesus is really there. So if I go before Jesus in the tabernacle it is good. And I keep Him company. In the Novus Ordo there are not that many who have the true faith and love Jesus. So I will love Him. But I do not want to go the the Novus Ordo Mass because I think it is bad. So I walk the line. Cross myself as I pass the Church, and genuflect before the tabernacle.

My uncle George is a Russian Orthodox. But he belongs to a strict Church. He is not in Communion with most of the other Churches in Orthodoxy. We went to his granddaughter's baptism at a monastery and he spoke about how he sung at the ceremonies but did not go to Communion because he was not in Communion with the monastery where his granddaughter was baptized. And he thought the schism was getting out of hand and it would be better if all the sects would be in Communion with each other. But not under Rome. It seems all the Orthodox share a distrust of the Pope and Rome.

My uncle's mother just died. She was orthodox. EENS. So she is in hell most likely. I heard on one of the forums that the Orthodox do not have their own version of EENS, so they hold that those outside of orthodoxy might be saved. But they are territorial and prone to schism. Charles Coulombe says that In the West we will accept any amount of heresy but no schism, but in the East they will accept any amount of schism but no heresy. And both halves of what should be the one united Church are meant to be corrective of each other's tendencies. Mithrandylan once said on one of the forums that he used to watch all of Charles Coulombe's lectures with Professor Biersach and he watched hours and hours and he thought they were enlightening, but later on after he became a more knowledgeable Catholic, that he couldn't think of a single important thing he learned from those lectures.

It is the devil. The fly. I do really believe in the devil. I do not want to be a witch but I believe they are real. I do not know what powers witches have, but I think their powers are increased greatly now that there are so few good Christians and so many abortions. As man abandons God, God abandons the people to the witches and the vampires. I do wonder if the end of the world is near. I think it is. But Tom says that the Garabandal warning will come first. But Joey Lomangino died blind. And then the Consecration of Russia and then the period of peace and only then the end of the world. I am not so hopeful. I fear the end is nigh. And the antichrist is here and the mark of the beast is the vaccine or something related to it. I told Tom that I would give him twenty dollars if the Warning happened while we were still alive and together in this valley of tears. The warning. What would you do if you could see the state of your soul as it was before the judgement seat of Jesus Christ? Would you go to confession? Or would you hate God even more. I fear many will hate God even more.

So I am home and tomorrow we are going to the orthodox funeral to pay our respects. In this world of pain. I saw a fly and he landed on my right hand in Church as I was looking at Jesus.

Physiognomy

One of the things I have been thinking about which is strange, is physiognomy. The idea that you can tell things about the morality of the soul by a person's appearance. I think about such things a lot. It would be interesting to learn about physiognomy from a Catholic perspective, if there are any works on that available. It sounds like something that would be hidden by modern people in the Church. Such a work would exist but is only available in Italian or Latin and is not translated. All I know about the idea is that Professor Plinio supposedly claimed to be able to tell if a person was in the state of sanctifying grace or in mortal sin by looking at their eyes. And I have seen Tradition In Action posts which speak of such things, comparing the calm, serene appearance of saints, to the twisted, ugly appearance (ugly as sin) of non-Christians. Famously they insulted the appearance as evil looking of a pair of gypsy girls in an old photograph like you could see their greed and perversions even as children. But when I look at people most of them just look evil to me. The most common example of this is the idea that you can tell if a person is homosexual simply by looking at them, their eyes, and their mannerisms. They are stained by sin. Like Whitman wrote about the grey faces of the onanists. And there is the idea that promiscuous women have dead wicked eyes like sharks.

So that is my theory as to why most grown-ups re ugly. Children are born beautiful. Most young children are cute and only after they grow up do they become ugly. The thing about growing up is not that bigger people are more attractive but that when innocence is lost and they are introduced into the world of sin, the devils in their hearts come, slowly, after time, to manifest in their appearance.

When I walk around and see people, I assume nearly everyone is in the state of mortal sin. Because only children and devout Catholics can be otherwise. We know from polls, unless they are lying, that most people who claim to be Catholic approve of mortal sins like contraception and masturbation and fornication and even many, abortion, so most of them are lacking the grace of the Holy Ghost. And non-Catholics have no hope once the innocence of childhood is lost. They look it. Everyone is twisted and ugly. And even the people who are not physically ugly have evil eyes.

Some of the people I know from my traditional Church look otherwise. Many of them look beautiful and look like they are innocent and pure. Not all, but the ratio is higher there than anywhere else I have been in the city, among adults. But when I go to the indult, as I am now as it is better than no Church at all. For some reason many of the people look different. They do not look beautiful. Some of the servers look evil. The priest looks somewhere in the middle. But there are a few who go there who also look innocent and beautiful. I wonder if there is anything real about this or if it is all my delusions. But I can't wait until I get to go back to my traditional Church. Anthony in particular who goes there sometimes, and other times to the Chapel in Long Island, is the most beautiful looking older man that I know. He looks so pious and even saintly. Often he hands out holy cards to us and he seems kind. 

When I look at myself in the mirror I think I look beautiful enough. My eyes, my face. I do not think I look ugly or wicked even though I am getting older. Perhaps that is pride.

I wish there were more old pictures of saints so I could look at them and examine their faces and appearance. Many of the older saints look holy to me. Two in particular are my Gemma, and Pope Pius X. Also, pictures of the Little Flower while she was in her Carmel and her Father was very handsome, even though he was bald. It would make sense that the people with beautiful souls would also in time have beautiful faces because of the indwelling of the Holy Ghost. They come to look even as the angels in heaven look. But this must not be always the case.

Of modern people, as I have mentioned before, Bishop Schneider looks beautiful and holy to me, which might offend those who thing he is a false shepherd trying to devour the traditionalists. Mother Teresa looked evil to me and ugly. In some pictures, Pope Benedict looked downright evil to me, and in others he looked like a pious old man. Francis doesn't look particularly evil, but he does not look good either. Of secular figures, Governor Cuomo is remarkably ugly as his policies are sinful. Something about his eyes and the folds in his face speak of Moloch and Mammon. Pelosi is the obvious one, though she is older so it is normal to think she would be ugly. 

There is a thing about women. And I have changed. I find most women to be ugly, because I feel that I Can see their sins. They may look seductive, but if they are perverted, I can see their sins and they look ugly to me. I think that what many people call the wall, is the point where in a woman's life, the effect of her sinfulness and promiscuity overcomes her natural beauty and makes her ugly on the outside as she is on the inside.

By I am speaking strange things. The holiest looking woman I have ever met in real life is an old woman from Church named Cora. She is in her late seventies but when I used to see her, she moved away, it was remarkable how beautiful she was, more so than any old lady I have ever known. She was also very pious, so much so that people thought she was crazy. Pray for her, poor Cora. 

But now that everyone gets perverted, fornicating and masturbating and sodomizing at younger and younger ages, I think that soon, most children will come to be ugly as the adults are. More and more will become wicked-looking at a younger and younger age, until it will be rare for an older child to be anything but ugly and wicked. I am a pessimist for this earth, but not for heaven. All the saints are beautiful there.

This was the first thing that happened to me when I became schizo. I felt that I could see people's sins and it was frightening. It comes and goes. It is strong lately. I sill still go to Church at the indult I think, even though the people there are not as beautiful as those in my traditional Church which is shut down for now. I believe the sacraments are real, so Jesus is there. And they don't have Communion in the hand, though they do also say the Novus Ordo there.

All mourning doves are beautiful, but people are either ugly or beautiful, mostly ugly. Some start out uglier and others more beautiful, but over time, the influence of the devils or the Holy Ghost come to fashion the body and the soul into beautiful or ugly tabernacles. Children of God or children of the devil, for those who have eyes to see. I feel I can see, but I am crazy, I am deluded. Or it is a gift. Maybe one can not trust appearances. 

Church News

I try to live in a sheltered bubble but I sort of follow Church News. I read some blogs and people talk at coffee hour. People talk about apostasy among the hierarchy. I do not bother about it. When I used to care more it was not good for my spiritual health. There is nothing I can do about it so why should I bother? I hope I can continue going to my Low Mass on Sundays and go to Eucharistic Adoration or pray before the tabernacle.

Karen said you should not go to the Novus Ordo parishes because there are devils there. She thinks the Novus Ordo is valid but illicit. But it is valid so Jesus is really there. Is it not good to go there and keep Jesus company? In this world of pain should we really be afraid of devils? Should not the devils be afraid of us? The world is covered with devils we are constantly surrounded by them and many of us were in league with them for many years and were slaves of them and how often have we made love to the demons? But now we are supposed to be children of light. So shouldn't we try to keep Our Lord company in the tabernacles and wouldn't the devils flee from us as we come to adore Him?

I try to love people. But often I don't trust people. I think everyone is well-meaning, but at the same time I think everyone is duplicitous. Everyone is good, but deep in their heart everyone really wants universal damnation.

I feel safe myself. I feel like I am doing alright. But I do feel alone sometimes. I have a few Church friends.

I don't know what I am trying to express in this blog post but tomorrow is Eucharistic Adoration. I wish it were every day. I don't know why there is a difference between praying before a monstrance or before a tabernacle but for some reason it feels better and more real before the Blessed Sacrament exposed, as if there are more graces for some reason as if the bronze of the tabernacle door blocks the good God's graces from reaching us. To gaze not upon a crucifix but directly into the eyes of God himself and he gazes back into our eyes. There is nothing to say, except for "O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto thine heart."

That is my most favorite prayer these days. I don't know if it is working. I feel happy but one can never judge the state of one's own soul. I feel like I am at peace and in the state of grace and free of demonic oppression or obsession but for all I know I could be in grave sin and possessed by a thousand demons. I wish I remembered more from the hospital. It was a battlefield. I wish I could remember the visit of the priest and what went on there. Apparently he performed an exorcism and gave me a New Testament in Spanish and gave me instructions which I do not remember and the New Testament was stolen from me. "O Jesus, meek and humble of heart, make my heart like unto thine heart."

I am getting better at the quiet prayer. That is what I call being quiet and having peace and not thinking while looking at the tabernacle or at Jesus or at the crucifix. I do not know what is supposed to happen when one prays. Is one supposed to repeat little prayers over and over again like "O Jesus . . ." ? Or is one supposed to mentally re-watch the passion over and over again? Is one supposed to let one's mind wander? Or is God supposed to take control of one's mind and give it wisdom? I have no teacher and am on my own not knowing what to do. I wish I had a desert father to ask about, one who has become all flame and has reached the highest state of perfection possible in the world today. Are there men like that today? Perhaps locked away in a monastery somewhere? Like the men in the deserts who can move mountains with their prayers? O how Russian of you to believe there are one or two desert monks who can move mountains. So I do not know how to pray. But I love the quiet prayer now. As I lay in bed I can gaze at my crucifix and have peace like the peace of death.

Old Peeps

Today I hung out with Matthew and Andrea. They were friends from before I became ill, co-workers from Barnes and Noble. We talked. They are married now. Talked about people from work, and a little about life, movies, cell phones, books. We did not talk about Church or God which is what I am always thinking about these days. I showed them my two rooms with holy cards and books, but we did not talk about them. I talked about The Silmarillion and The Lord of the Rings. We talked for a while. I could see us being friends again. They are people. Neither are practicing Catholics. I pretty much only have Church friends. We talked a little about Danica in Los Angeles. Stephanie was mentioned. People from my past. So long ago, but we still could talk. We remember enough.

I don't think Mellonie wants to talk to me anymore. She cut me off from her instagram and did not send me a birthday greeting this year which was our ritual. For a decade we would talk by email three times per year or so, always on her birthday, April 30th, always on my birthday, September 10th and always on Christmas. I must have offended her somehow in a way I do not remember. Maybe I said something bad while having an episode or she was offended by my blog or instagram. So I guess I will not send her a message on Christmas. An old friend lost. Oh well. I will not lose any sleep over it, though I would prefer to remain friends with her as she is my one connection to my university days and as a former lover we have many shared memories and I remember her fondly even though I was very bad to her. I remember her with love. I will not be cutting my wrists or taking too many sleeping pills or drinking myself unconscious.

Benches by the Library

Walking to the library there is a tree where all the songbirds sing. Above the benches where the drunks lay. They lay on the benches twitching as the songbirds sing their song and the squirrels look for nuts. Today I saw a black squirrel climb from a little tree to a big tree. Above the benches where the drunk lay. He is an important person in the neighborhood. Is he the rightful duke or the earl or the king? Why else would the songbirds serenade him though it was not night?

Andy

Coming out of Church after praying the Rosary before Our Lady of Guadalupe I met Andy. He was sleeping on the stoop of the Church. When I opened the door I woke him. He said hi and told me his name and I told him mine. He said he worked for the MTA and was a retired bus driver. He had a tattoo to prove it. I pointed to two cans of Keystone Ice and he said they were filled with water, not beer. He told me I was a good guy, then he said I was a great guy. He held out his hand and I shook it and then he kissed the back of my hand. I told him I was not a priest and he explained himself. Then we went our separate ways. I walked away, perhaps he entered into the Church to pray.

The Angelus bells are ringing. Behold the Haindmaiden of the Lord. Be it done unto me according to thy word.

He kissed the back of my hand like I was the king and he was my subject kissing my ring. I do not wear a ring.

I have a silver coin from China I want to have it melted into a ring to give to a girl. I want to get a golden coin from China and have it melted into a ring to use as a wedding ring for my future wife. I wonder if I will ever get married. Since I got out of the hospital I have had the desire to get married. In the land of legend it is easy. In this bourgeois world of mediocrity and well deserved pain it seems impossible. I try my best to live in the world of legend. The Angelus bells are still ringing. In the world of my dreams The Angelus bells never end. The Midnight bells chime on and on until the morning comes. The morning bells chime on and on until noon comes. The noon bells chime on and on until evening comes and the evening bells chime on and on until midnight. But I am just a poor sinner. That is how the bells sounded to St. Francis. They are silent now. They rang for almost six minutes. Not bad. They are more beautiful than the songs of the birds.

Wishing You (Frère Jacques)

Blessings on this day
Of your wedding,
When two become one
As partners
For a silent moment
(In this world of sorrow)
Under the sun.

Go West, but look East,
For the sun is rising.
The world is turning
Faster . . . faster . . . faster . . .
Relax and feel the breeze.

Forget the piper's piping
And hear the song of
The morning birds calling.
The sparrows are chattering.
Ring the Matins, Brother John.

We are waiting.

A Wedding Poem by Julian Moore

My Father told me to write a card for my cousin's wedding which is this Saturday, August 31st. So I wrote this poem to put on the card. It just came out as thoughts like sweat from your pores when you run too fast in the summer sun. My father did not like the word "sorrow" in the poem. He said it was a good poem except for that one word. But I am of sorrow. I couldn't find a word to replace "sorrow" so I changed the line to "For a silent moment" but I included (In this world of sorrow). It is either / or; both lines are not meant to be read together. 

Fire Island

My family and I visited my uncle Harry's beach house at Fire Island. It is in the village of Saltaire. It was a great trip. We went on a ferry ride had a steak dinner and had friends over and we went to the yacht club where a girl was singing pop songs. I was not a fan of the music but the singer was very talented. I thought she was a seductress. Dinner was great. I prepared corn and together with my mom we made a salad. And Harry grilled the steaks. When dinner came around there was an extra piece of corn. We thought there were four whole pieces of corn and two half-pieces, but it turned out there were five whole pieces of corn and two half-pieces. And my cousin Sarah said it was like the multiplication of fishes after the Sermon on the Mount. I clearly remember there being five corns because we threw the sixth one away because it was rotten. But when it came time to eat there were six. Bless the Lord for providing for his children.

Before dinner came I walked to Fair Harbor. Walking to Fair Harbor is a ritual of mine when I visit Saltaire. It beings back childhood memories. My favorite part of Fire Island is walking from Saltaire to Fair Harbor and back. I brought my dad's camera and took pictures. I took pictures of butterflies, a dragonfly, and deer, and other pictures. I will post them on my instagram by tomorrow. I got some beautiful pictures of two Monarch Butterflies holding on to each other. I thought they were mating! What a treat!

At Fair Harbor I got ice cream from "ufriendly's". I got a cone with sprinkles. The flavor was "Pirate's Treasure" and I ate it. One of the little kids winked her eye at me. I smelled smoke coming from the restaurant. Then I checked out "Corliss' By The Bay" but did not buy anything. Then I walked home.

On the way there I passed the Church where I was Baptized and took two pictures. I prayed in the garden before the broken crucifix. There were stones at the foot of the Cross. One encouraged me to trust in Jesus and one said "She Loves You With All Her Heart". I wonder who put them there. A message from Jesus and the Blessed Mother. I took a picture of the stones and will put it up with the other pictures. On the way back I passed the Church and looked inside at the exact moment of the elevation of the Victim after the consecration, so I genuflected and then walked home. Perfect timing.

In the morning I looked at birds and we made breakfast. My mother and I. Egg sandwiches. Then I got on the ferry and took the LIRR to go to Penn Station for Mass at St. Christopher's On the way there I prayed at Holy Innocents and Our Savior. It was a good trip to  Fire Island and pictures are coming! Thanks, Harry (and Mary). His father was a daily communicant and for a short while during World War II he was Padre Pio's driver. May God Bless him and let us hope he is in heaven and pray for him in case he is in purgatory.

The Mayor of Kew Gardens

When I worked at Cafe Bliss I met "The Mayor of Kew Gardens". That was what he went by and was not an official title. He was on old, bald Jewish guy who lived in an apartment building in the neighborhood. He would hold court in our cafe and all of his men and women would gather there and I would serve them. I made a promise to him. That when he died I would take a bialy and a cup of coffee and put it on his gravestone (It would be a toasted bialy with butter and a small light and sweet coffee. That is how I like it and not how he likes it). He said he was to be buried in Maple Grove Cemetery, which has an entrance on Lefferts Blvd. and Kew Gardens Rd. It is a famous cemetery and they give out maps with markers for where the famous people are buried. Most of them were from a century ago. It is like Kew Gardens died when Kitty Genovese was murdered. She died right in front of the Cafe where I worked at, near the Long Island Railroad station. It is like she is haunting us and has unfinished business. His name was Aaron but I do not remember his last name.

The Mayor had a good friend named Stanley who was as ancient as the morning dew on Mars. He would show up early in the morning, always before daybreak as he could not stand the light of the sun. He would come in before sunrise at six in the morning and I would serve him. He only came on special days as he was weak and old and weary. They say he was a painter. But now he is old and his blood runs thin. Just a little more blood. In the mornings before the dawn. I never saw him under the sun, only under the moonshine before the sun peeks out over the horizon. Poor Stanley. I hope he enjoyed the coffee I made for him, and the little food. A life lived from a coffin only to rise on a blue moon in the few minutes before the day begins. He was a painter. I do not know whatever happened to Stanley. I imagine he is dead by now.

So I have to close the door on the past and find out where Aaron is buried. What was his last name? I can not remember. I went to visit Cafe Bliss which is under new management but I did not recognize anyone. And even if I did my parents don't want me talking to strangers so they will have to recognize me and talk to me before I talk to them. "The Mayor of Kew Gardens". Like "Da Mayor" in Do The Right Thing.

I used to serve him at the cafe. Working there was what led to my nervous breakdown combined with praying the Rosary and the death of my older brother. I want to put the pieces back together and exorcise the demons but to do so I have to find out where Aaron was buried, if indeed he is dead. If you have any clues let me know. Tell a little birdie and he will send me the message. I will hear it in their morning song. Or better yet send your guardian angel. They never fail, though I may fail to understand the message as I am not Padre Pio so I can not see my angel. But he has helped me so often that I know that he is there.

Angel of God, my Guardian Dear,
To Whom God's Love Entrusts us Here;
Ever This Day be at Our Side,
To Light and Guard, to Rule and Guide.

Who Is Gilgamesh?

That is the Question? What is his name?

Names . . .

((()))
Which ones are lovers?

Daniela
Danica
Mellonie (I bought her a silver coin but I will never give it to her)
Stephanie
Warren
Rachel
Shane
Tom
Krissy
Jose
Geoffrey
Adam
Jackie
Michael
Jason
Sarah
Katrina
Katie
Giovanna
Satya
Corrina
Andrea
Matthew
Ashlyn
Vince
Joe Anne
Ira
Frankie
Sam
Amelia
Laura
Vivian
Tara
Michelle
Lindsay
Mr. Steve
Delgado Lewis [Pray For Him]
Nido (With Great Thanks)
Mr. Ross
Matt Damon
Jon
Dairus
Anthony (He is a good man who I admire.)
. . .