The Dead

Everyone is dead. The world is full of skeletons walking. Pestilence is our father. Worms are our sister. Dead bodies enlivened by necromancy.

I like to think of myself as a living creature. The living, the living. I pray for the dead. I hope I am alive. The living, the living. But I am a creature. A creature has a creator. The Office of the dead for a poor dead soul whom I love. One can pray for the living as well as the dead. Poor souls. Among the living as well as among the dead.

There is a famous sermon where a pessimistic sainted priest relates two private revelations where it is claimed that basically only one out of every ten thousand or so people who grow to adulthood are saved. It is something that people talk about on the internet where all everything ever written is kept in digital databases and people share the strangest things. Even I am not so pessimistic. Because these stories come down to us from times when the people were more pious. To think at a time where everyone went to Mass and everyone tithed and they built all those beautiful Churches which I have never visited and never will visit, as I am a creature of New York and will never travel to Europe or South America to see them. But it is frightening. To think that all of those souls who contributed so much to the Church and lived far better lives than we did are damned. Are there no children of God?

But in these times I try to have a heart full of love. I am just a poor creature. Of no account. I am of no account. One day a possibly drunken man came up to me and kissed my hand and said I was a good man. No I was a great man. It was so strange that it seemed like a hallucination. I spoke to him for only a moment and then went away. It was as if I was a noble lord and he was my peasant. Though he was an old man. I should have stayed with him. But that was a few months ago.

Nodoby knows me. Prayer in this time of plague. I am feeling okay. On the day after St. Patrick's day, when Michael arrived with the girl, I was so stressed out that I had to have some beer for the second night in a row. My father was worried so he drank with me to make sure I was alright. Then I finished and went right to bed. I am not an alcoholic, but sometimes, and it is not very common, I get stressed out, and when I do, I like to have beer and it cuts my nerves and helps me sleep, and usually I feel better in the morning. This time I felt better, and now, four days later, I am almost perfect. I still would like to go to confession. I did not fall into a new sin, but I was thinking of something I did a long time ago and felt remorse for it and a pain of soul came upon me. But Mass was cancelled and the Churches are closed. I may call a priest and ask if he could meet me so I could confess. I am young and have no symptoms so it would be no danger to him.

Prepare for death. For when it comes, it comes quickly, and the preparation for death is the only thing that matters in this life.

I am not afraid and my nerves are getting better. I just wish things would go back to normal soon. Pestilence is our father. Worms are our sister. Not that I am afraid. But I would rather be praying before the Blessed Sacrament than alone and I would rather eat heavenly bread than mere human bread, even the finest sourdough from the best bakery.

I may indeed go to the Lourdes Grotto again. But not tomorrow for it is supposed to be raining.

I was reminded of the Japanese director Kenji Mizoguchi and how he made some wonderful movies. If I ever get back into watching movies, I think his should be the first ones I watch. I don't like most movies anymore.

In this time of pestilence perhaps I should listen to more classical music. And maybe some old Church music. I have to go pray for the dead now. I am waiting for the time when there will be nothing to eat but rice. Everyone is dead. Especially here in New York City. The whole city is a mirage. A fantasy like the spirit house in "Ugetsu" and we are really living in ruins and desolation but our soul is tricked into thinking we are in a beautiful mansion. When will this veil be lifted?

The living. The living. Everyone is dead here in New York City. Everyone is dead.

No Churches Open

There are now no Catholic Churches open near me. Nothing during the week and now nothing on Sunday. Mass is cancelled. Starting on one of my favorite weeks of the year, Laetare Sunday. I  will not be seeing Father wearing rose. The Churches are all locked. I was thinking about trying to call a priest and arrange to go to confession. It would be nice to go if we will be without Mass for however long this lasts.

For a while I have had bits from Beethoven's 9th symphony stuck in my head. So now I am listening to it on my computer.

My father showed me a nice little Lourdes Grotto outside of St. Pancras Church in Glendale. We sat there for a while, nearby there was a bird feeder. It was relaxing. They also had stations of the Cross set up outside the Church. I think I may be going there at times on my own to pray. It is too far from my house to walk, but I could take the bus. If I pray there for a while it would be worth the bus fare.

But now with no Churches I will have to pray my prayers in the basement, or perhaps I can walk to the park and kneel down and pray there. I am not afraid of dying of this disease. I just hope we do not run out of money. I hope all of my dear readers are okay. As this is a nationwide scare. And even international.

A Family of Five

We are a family of five for the moment. Michael moved back home from Philly and he brought a girl with him. So now we are five. It is nice to have Michael to talk to anyway. We had dinner as a family last night.

In my diocese first they said that there will be Mass but the obligation to attend was suspended. The next day they cancelled all Masses but said the Churches will be open for private prayer. Today as I was in Church praying the janitor informed us that they were closing the Church. Now in our diocese all Churches are closed. I have yet to learn if our little SSPX Mission will be closed. As of last Sunday it was open, but things change quickly in times of pestilence.

I am not worried about getting sick. I am worried that a lot of people will lose their jobs and become poor and this illness will lead to a depression. I would not mind being poor if there was enough to have a place to live and some food. But other people would not like it if they are not as simple and want nice things. I just hope the government does not get all 1984 on us.

So now I have to say my prayers at home instead of in front of the tabernacle. The girl is in my room, I am in the basement and my brother is in the living room.

So we are a family of five now.

Thirty-Sixth Rose

In 1578 a woman in Anvers had given herself to the devil and had signed the contract with her own blood. Shortly afterwards she was stricken with sincere remorse and had an intense desire to make amends for this terrible deed. So she sought out a kind and wise confessor who advised her to go to Father Henry, one of the Fathers of the Dominican Friary, who was Director of the Rosary Confraternity in that town, to ask him to enroll her in it and hear her confession.

Accordingly she went to ask for him but met, not Father Henry, but the devil disguised as a Dominican Father. The latter scolded her pitilessly and said that she could never hope to receive Almighty God's grace again as long as she lived, and that there was absolutely no way in which she could regain possession of her contract. This grieved her greatly but she did not quite lose hope of God's mercy and sought out Father Henry once more, only to find the devil a second time, and to meet with a second rebuff. She came back for the third time and then at last, by Divine Providence, she found Father Henry in person--the priest whom she had been looking for--and he treated her with very great kindness, urging her to throw herself upon the mercy of Almighty God and to make a good confession. He then received her into the Confraternity and told her to say the Rosary frequently.

One day while Father Henry was saying Mass for her Our Lady forced the devil to give her back the contract which she had signed. In this way she was delivered from the devil by the authority of Mary and by her devotion to the Most Holy Rosary.

Illness

So people are taking this Corona virus seriously. I just hope they do not close the Churches and I get to go to Benediction and to Mass like I usually do. My mother told me to go to the dollar store and buy six rolls of toilet paper. And she bought some anti-bacterial soap. That is the extent of our preparation.

This is the first time in my life where there has been an illness scare that I noticed. They are cancelling public events in many places and even sporting events that would have made billions of dollars such as the NCAA tournament. None of the other scares in my lifetime have caused such cancellations.

So I just hope they don't close the Churches. I could go without Mass for a few months if need be. And I feel OK with God so I do not have an urgent need to go to confession. But I would rather things go on as normal and the routine of my hidden life goes on as it has been going since the end of July.

I got my New Roman Missal in the mail today. Soon it will go on to the book shelf. It is not for use but to have. It is a 1945 Missal. I looked at some of the prayers. The most noticeable prayer change is the Good Friday prayer for the Jews. It has the "perfidis". I already had a 1962 Missal with the modern Holy Week that was prayed for only a few years so I wanted a Missal with the older Holy Week also. The missal seems good, however there seems to be a flaw. There is no real table of contents in the beginning of the book. There is a short one near the end of a book and an Index, but I think a two thousand page book could use a real table of contents. But it seems good and I am happy. It is funny because the reason I chose the Lasance Missal is because in the reviews I read of the Saint Andrew Daily Missal, there was the complaint that there was no table of contents. That helped persuade me to get the Lasance one instead only to be faced with the same problem. But it is a beautiful book.

My therapist told me I had to start spending money now that I get disability. It is not much money, but the way my life is I have been unable so far this year, to spend all of my money in any month, without saving money or giving it away. I spend so little money and my parents do not charge me rent. So lately I have just been giving generously at Church, and or giving money to my family. I have been buying some things on amazon. But my only major expense is going to Church. subway fare, donation, and coffee and food with the people after Mass.

But I am a frugal person. I do not want anything. I am content without buying things. So I will just help out my family.

Tonight the Bishop said the Benediction. He had us pray for protection from the corona virus. I think sometimes that he state of one's soul can be seen by looking at one's face. The bishop looks like a good man. Even though he is Novus Ordo, he has a good look about him. He is from Cuba.

So far nothing strange has happened because of the virus. The supermarkets are not out of food. The pizza store had pizza for us today. Mom went shopping at Michael's and said there was nobody in the store. But the parking lot was full because everyone was going to Trader Joe's. Life is still normal. Except that New York City made it illegal for stores to give you plastic shopping bags. You can get paper bags but you have to pay for them. They cost 5 cents. Which I think is a bargain. I remember years ago people said we should stop using paper bags because they killed trees to make them, so we should only use plastic bags. Now everyone says we should not use plastic bags because they get thrown away and do not decompose so they are bad for the environment. And now they have us using paper bags again, which I prefer anyway and am willing to spend a nickel for. But now we get to use some of those reusable cloth bags we have acquired over the years. I think people should do that as the ideal solution. Things that get used one time and then thrown away are not a good idea.

I am stealing a quote from a book I once read that was on the Index of Forbidden Books '"I did nothing today." --What? Did you not live? That is not only the most fundamental but the most illustrious of your occupations.' It is from Montaigne. Such is my life. I do nothing. But I am happy. I live and am happy. I am not a hero. Robert introduced me to the idea of being an "outsider artist." So I thought to myself, "yes, that is what I would like to be, an outsider, though I am not much of an artist". So I thought of my self, that I am "aspiring to be an unknown outsider." That fits. I am one of those people who thinks the modern world is insane. I mean it is mainstream now and socially approved for a man to cut off his penis and call himself a woman. And if one says, no, he is still a man and not a woman, that person is ostracized and will lose his family, his friends, and his employment. I do wonder about such people, how do they have sex? And if it is somehow possible for them to have sex, could they enjoy it as much as they could if their genitals were not mutilated. I mean I have at times thought what it would be like to be a woman and if perhaps I would be happier, but that was as far as it went.

But I live. That is all I do. I do think one can be an important person without doing much. I live well and am happy. I am a part of a family. I go to Church. I pray. I hope to go to heaven one day. I am not much interested in the world. I hope to have peace and to be able to survive until my death, hopefully of natural causes. But I do not long for money or for riches, beyond basic sustenance. If I were not crazy I would want to be a monk, but I am broken and am too old now so I let it be. I have peace. I am content with life. I do nothing, but I live, and life is what is important. To give one's life to God. Or to give him a tithe, and be grateful for the balance. So be it. So be it.

The Bishop said Benediction tonight. He looks like a good man. As traditionalists we look at the Novus Ordo Bishops and think they are not good, but I like our Bishop, the pastor of my local parish. He has never offended me. There is one Bishop in particular, who I like. Like my Bishop, he is also an auxiliary. The world famous Bishop Athanasius Schneider. He looks like a good man to me. I look at him and think he is kind, and good. He is not a pervert. He is pious and can be trusted. I hope he is a good man and has a good heart and loves God.

I love God. It sounds like pious talk, but I love God. But God is far away. Even in the Incarnate form of Jesus Christ. He is Our Creator and he is perfect and not a sinner. Even Mary, who is a creature, is not a sinner. So she is far away. But the saints who are creatures and who are sinners. They are my friends. My Gemma who I love a lot. I feel my love for her as a girl and as a sinner far more than I feel my love for God. But I love her because of God and I love God in her. So all my love for her is an act of praise for the God who created her. She is not an idol, but a creature beloved of the good God. Pious babbling.

I am always happy lately in my time of peace. The clouds, the birds, the stars, the moon, the sun. Mostly Jesus in the tabernacle. Jesus in the monstrance like today. Friday is almost as good a day as Sunday because I can visit Jesus in the monstrance several times a day and be blessed by him before I go to bed. It is good to look at Jesus.

I do not know if I can communicate my peace and happiness to other people by writing. Perhaps if things went bad I would be bitter. Nobody hurts me so I am happy. If I was handed over to the devil like Job, perhaps then I would scratch my boils and be miserable. I would cry out to God, but I hope I would not curse Him. In my time of despair when the devils tormented me for so long, I did not curse God. I hope I do not curse Him in the future. In this world of pain.

I do not feel as if I have a shepherd other than Jesus. That must be dangerous. I love God, but I do not have a leader who tells me what to think and what to believe. This is a problem in the strange world of traditional Catholicism, where we believe the leaders have lost the faith for the most part and cannot be trusted. I do not worry much. I try to believe in my own way and love.

I think the most important thing is to believe. And then to love. I try to believe and I try to love.