Sweet, sweet respite: Everly Brothers’ “Walk Right Back”

Longtime readers of this space know well of my secular devotion to The Everly Brothers.

I’ve also been struck by the lovely and voluminous emails after any “hearing theological truths in ‘pop’ music’ posts.”I agree.

There is something special about realizing that the Divine Providence and the Divine Bridegroom finds His way into our lives, hearts and experiences even outside the Holy Liturgy.

He does not lock Himself inside His house like a misanthrope psycho cat lady. He is so in love with us as individuals that He manifests to us, low-key, in our daily lives. He is always peeking around the corner, that we might notice Him. Remember well what He said to St. Teresa of Avila, and realize that this applies to every human being EVER CONCEIVED.

“I would create the universe again just to hear you say that you love Me.”

Folks, that isn’t hyperbole. He means it. This is why possibly the highest and best prayer is “I love you, Jesus.” “Jesus, mercy” and, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, a sinner” are also essential all-day-every-day prayers. But the reason He created the universe (which the Hubble and James Webb telescopes keep demonstrating to us in knee-collapsing detail) is just so that YOU, individually, JUST YOU, could say, “I love You, Lord Jesus.”

God-hating apostates claim that this is ‘cultish’, that God is ‘needy’, and those especially far-gone into the abyss of lovelessness and narcissism think this is proof that God is therefore evil. What they totally fail to comprehend is that God is INFINITE and therefore is outside all human categories. When The Second Person of the Triune Godhead Himself says, “I AM the Way, the Truth, and the Life,” it is because He can’t say anything else, because HE IS. You cannot apply the same standards or calculi to God that you apply to ANY man. Infinite Love requires a different metric, obviously.

When God, Infinite Love, says, “You have to love Me in order to be saved and be with Me forever in heaven (which is nothing less than in-dwelling in Me),” this applies in a way that DOES NOT APPLY to ANYONE else. Because He is God. This, it seems to me, is literally a few MINUTES of contemplation of the Triune Godhead, but so many miss it utterly and completely. They conflate men with God. If you’re in love, you could never mistake the one you love for anyone else, much less some random sodomite criminal apostate. Or even a GOOD priest!

When Infinite Love says that He loves the relative gnat, the gnat should listen, listen well, and believe. Because there is no incentive for the Infinite to lie or manipulate the gnat. The only POSSIBLE explanation is infinite, gratuitous LOVE. To reject this is… Luciferian. In the purest sense.

This is why I harp and harp, SCREECH even, about the absolute necessity of a PERSONAL relationship with Jesus Christ and, therefore, with His Bride, the One, Holy, Catholic and Apostolic Church, outside of which there is no salvation. And, obviously, this is why we love His Vicar on Earth, the Vicar of Christ, and why we fight and defend that Office, and its authority and jurisdiction – especially against SUBSTANTIAL ERROR in a juridical matter by the Holy Father himself. Especially. Because we are all living the catastrophic fallout of such error.

Well. That was a tangent. All from… The Everly Brothers? Absolutely.

Here is “Walk Right Back”, which I have always heard as God calling us to repentance, confession and most especially to THE EUCHARIST. To this day, when I approach the Communion Rail, after being shriven and appropriately fasting and preparing per my state in life, I hear this as I walk up the aisle of the nave, Our Eucharistic Lord, speaking to me.

Shut up. I ain’t cryin’. You cryin’.

I want you to tell Me why you walked out on Me

I’m so lonesome every day

I want you to know that since you walked out on Me

Nothin’ seems to be the same old way

Think about the love that burns within My Heart for you

The good times we had before you went away, oh Me

Walk right back to Me this minute

Bring your love to Me, don’t send it

I’m so lonesome every day

I want you to tell Me why you walked out on Me

I’m so lonesome every day

I want you to know that since you walked out on Me

Nothin’ seems to be the same old way

Think about the love that burns within My Heart for you

The good times we had before you went away, oh Me

Walk right back to Me this minute

Bring your love to Me, don’t send it

I’m so lonesome every day

I’m so lonesome every day

I’m so lonesome every day

Shut you cryin’. Y’all cryin’. I ain’t cryin’. You know you cryin’.

Go to confession.

Tell Him that you love Him, then go outside tonight, look up at the stars and know that’s it’s ALL for you, and all ever was for you. So that you could know Him and love Him. And then know, however how, that He incarnated, suffered, and died for you.

It’s funny- I watch so many video clips – Cosmology, Astrophysics, Joe Rogan desperately trying to answer his own questions; and the root answer is always exactly the same:

You cannot begin to understand ANYTHING until you realize that the answer to every question is… LOVE.

What holds every electron in the universe in its valence shell? LOVE

Why is Pi everywhere in the physical universe? LOVE.

Why are we made as we are? LOVE.

Why was I born to my parents, no matter how shitty they might have been? LOVE.

Why does my suffering persist if I’m ready to die? LOVE.

Why aren’t my (stupid and pious) prayers answered? LOVE.

What am I even chasing? What is the Beatific Vision? LOVE HIMSELF. Not a taste, not a mere encounter. Heaven is existence INSIDE the Holy Trinity, experiencing everything, everyone, every sweetness in Itself. Omne delectamentum in se habentem.

If you come up on a question about the One True Faith, ask yourself, “Is the core answer to this question… Love?”

Joe Rogan could tie up about three dozen open ends of scientific inquiry if he would just acknowledge the terrifying reality that he is loved beyond his comprehension by the Creator/Sustainer of the universe who incarnated and died for him.

THAT is the 42 answer. To everything. LOVE. Not the hippy sentiment, but the real, diamond-edged grinder pain-to-gain situation.

It almost always is. Including, why does God allow… X… Y… Z??? The failure to address and divinize human suffering through the Cross of Christ is 90+% of the moral/cultural problem.

We’ve lost the capacity to suffer meritoriously for the sake of LOVE. True love, charity. Not lust or bullshit girlish fantasies of the satanic zeitgeist.

Folks, y’all better find it. With a quickness.

If not God, if not flesh…

Transfiguration of Christ, Paolo Veronese, ARSH 1555-56, Cathedral of Santa Maria, Montagnana

Transfiguration of Christ, Paolo Veronese, ARSH 1555-56, Cathedral of Santa Maria, Montagnana

This is paragraph 15 from “Sermon on the Transfiguration of our Lord and God and Savior, Jesus Christ” by St. Ephraim the Syrian. It seems to me that a simple verbatim recitation of this would make a spectacular sermon or homily by itself, Fathers.

“The facts themselves bear witness and His divine acts of power teach those who doubt that He is true God, and His sufferings show that He is true man. And if those who are feeble in understanding are not fully assured, they will pay the penalty on His dread day.

If He were not flesh, why was Mary introduced at all?
And if He were not God, whom was Gabriel calling Lord?

If He were not flesh, who was lying in the manger?
And if He were not God, whom did the Angels come down and glorify?

If He were not flesh, who was wrapped in swaddling clothes?
And if He were not God, whom did the shepherds worship?

If He were not flesh, whom did Joseph circumcise?
And if He were not God, in whose honor did the star speed through the heavens?

If He were not flesh, whom did Mary suckle?
And if He were not God, to whom did the Magi offer gifts?

If He were not flesh, whom did Simeon carry in his arms?
And if He were not God, to whom did he say, “Let me depart in peace”?

If He were not flesh, whom did Joseph take and flee into Egypt?
And if He were not God, in whom were words “Out of Egypt I have called My Son” fulfilled?

If He were not flesh, whom did John baptize?
And if He were not God, to whom did the Father from heaven say, “This is My beloved Son, in Whom I am well-pleased”?

If He were not flesh, who fasted and hungered in the desert?
And if He were not God, whom did the Angels come down and serve?

If He were not flesh, who was invited to the wedding in Cana of Galilee?
And if He were not God, who turned the water into wine?

If He were not flesh, in whose hands were the loaves?
And if He were not God, who satisfied crowds and thousands in the desert, not counting women and children, from five loaves and two fishes?

If He were not flesh, who fell asleep in the boat?
And if He were not God, who rebuked the winds and the sea?

If He were not flesh, with whom did Simon the Pharisee eat?
And if He were not God, who pardoned the offenses of the sinful woman?

If He were not flesh, who sat by the well, worn out by the journey?
And if He were not God, who gave living water to the woman of Samaria and reprehended her because she had had five husbands?

If He were not flesh, who wore human garments?
And if He were not God, who did acts of power and wonders?

If He were not flesh, who spat on the ground and made clay?
And if He were not God, who through the clay compelled the eyes to see?

If He were not flesh, who wept at Lazarus’ grave?
And if He were not God, who by His command brought out one four days dead?

If He were not flesh, who sat on the foal?
And if He were not God, whom did the crowds go out to meet with glory?

If He were not flesh, whom did the Jews arrest?
And if He were not God, who gave an order to the earth and threw them onto their faces?

If He were not flesh, who was struck with a blow?
And if He were not God, who cured the ear that had been cut off by Peter and restored it to its place?

If He were not flesh, who received spittings on His face?
And if He were not God, who breathed the Holy Spirit into the faces of His Apostles?

If He were not flesh, who stood before Pilate at the judgement seat?
And if He were not God, who made Pilate’s wife afraid by a dream?

If He were not flesh, whose garments did the soldiers strip off and divide?
And if He were not God, how was the sun darkened at the cross?

If He were not flesh, who was hung on the cross?
And if He were not God, who shook the earth from its foundations?

If He were not flesh, whose hands and feet were transfixed by nails?
And if He were not God, how was the veil of the temple rent, the rocks broken and the graves opened?

If He were not flesh, who cried out, “My God, my God, why have you abandoned Me”?
And if He were not God, who said “Father, forgive them”?

If He were not flesh, who was hung on a cross with the thieves?
And if He were not God, how did He say to the thief, “Today you will be with Me in Paradise”?

If He were not flesh, to whom did they offer vinegar and gall?
And if He were not God, on hearing whose voice did Hades tremble?

If He were not flesh, whose side did the lance pierce, and blood and water came out?
And if He were not God, who smashed to gates of Hades and tear apart it bonds? And at whose command did the imprisoned dead come out?

If He were not flesh, whom did the Apostles see in the upper room?
And if He were not God, how did He enter when the doors were shut?

If He were not flesh, the marks of the nails and the lance in whose hands and side did Thomas handle?
And if He were not God, to whom did He cry out, “My Lord and my God”?

If He were not flesh, who ate by the sea of Tiberias?
And if He were not God, at whose command was the net filled?

If He were not flesh, whom did the Apostles and Angels see being taken up into heaven?
And if He were not God, to whom was heaven opened, whom did the Powers worship in fear and whom did the Father invite to “Sit at my right hand”. As David said, “The Lord said to my Lord, sit at my right hand, etc.”

If He were not God and man, our salvation is a lie, and the words of the Prophets are lies.”

Fantastic Sunday Read: SUSANVACANTISM

(For your Sunday edification and recreation, an absolutely brilliant satire piece that burns to ash the abject nonsense argument that “we can’t know that Bergoglio is an Antipope”. I came across this in the commbox over at NonVeniMark’s place, HERE. Really, read the whole, delicious thing, including the “advertisement” for “Catastrophe Magazine” (aka Crisis) and Galatians 3:1, G3:1 (aka 1Peter5). Here’s G3:1… it’s PERFECT:

O senseless Galatians, who hath bewitched you that you should not obey the truth, before whose eyes Jesus Christ hath been set forth, crucified among you?
O insensati Galatae, quis vos fascinavit non obedire veritati, ante quorum oculos Jesus Christus praescriptus est, in vobis crucifixus?

https://www.wmreview.org/p/susanvacantism

Here’s just a nibble, but you must read the whole thing. And share.

Pope Susan (born Karen McNuggets), after the conclave of 2047.

Contextual Introduction

It is the year 2051 CE.

Karen McNuggets was elected to the See of Rome a few years ago, and took the name ‘Pope Susan.’ Since then, Pope Susan has begun radically changing everything in the Church.

Some were dismayed by this turn of events, and began promoting a horrible conspiracy theory – that Susan is a woman, and therefore not the Pope. 

They refer to texts such as that of Caesar Badii, 1921 commentary on the Code of Canon Law:

‘The law now in force for the election of the Roman Pontiff is reduced to these points:…

‘Barred as incapable of being validly elected are the following: women, children who have not reached the age of reason, those suffering from habitual insanity, the unbaptized, heretics and schismatics.’1 (Emphasis added)

However, some of the most faithful conservative Catholics, wishing to return to the balanced and moderate principles laid out by Pope St Francis the Great, have taken great scandal and anxiety at the presumption of such claims – which have come to be known as Susanvacantism.

These faithful (and moderate) conservatives feel that Susanvacantism is dangerous, and that it is their duty to warn their fellow Catholics. 

One such faithful and moderate (and balanced) conservative is Fredrik Tunaphisch, the editor of Catastrophe Magazine. 

Catastrophe Magazine, along with other similar anti-Susan outlets like Galatians 3.1 (and to a lesser extent The Leftovers) have charted a sensible, prudent course – making sure that they are resolutely neither cold nor hot.

The Spiritual Dangers of Susanvacantism

Everyone knows that Catholicism online is a different world to what you find in real life.

If, for example, you went to a typical Catholic parish and asked everyone, ‘Is Susan the pope?’ you’d probably get 100% of the congregation saying ‘Yes.’ You’d also get some odd looks for asking such a stupid question. 

Yet if you spend time on engaging with Catholics on Y (formerly X [formerly Twitter]) and elsewhere, it won’t be long before you encounter someone insisting that ‘Pope Susan isn’t really the pope.’

While this view might sound crazy to the average, normal Catholic, it’s understandable to anyone paying attention to Church politics today.

A small – but growing – group of Catholics deny that Susan is the pope.

While this idea option might be tempting, it’s incredibly dangerous to the soul.

Denying the legitimacy of Susan’s papacy means that there is no valid pope – the see of Rome is vacant. This position rests on these two ideas:

  1. That Susan is a woman. 

But who are they to say that Susan is a woman? 

It’s a well-known provision of Canon Law that the first see is judged by no-one. It is not for mere laymen to be assuming the gender of the pope (let alone judging it). 

This would require several warnings, as well as a declaration from the college of Cardinals. 

At present, Susan is at most an occultwoman or suspect of being a woman – but until there has been a declaration by authority, we are naturally unable to notice, judge or act on any such idea. This would be private judgment on steroids. This is just like Martin Luther all over again.

  1. That a woman is incapable of being pope. 

But while this is a venerable theological thesis, taught by theologians and canonists, has it ever been declared infallibly by the extraordinary magisterium of the Church or by a pope ex cathedra?

….

Folks, it starts strong, and then JUST. GETS. BETTER.

Happy Sunday, and Happy Feast of St. Dominic!

Cholesterol is an essential nutrient. Statins are YET ANOTHER BigPharma crime against humanity. Go Carnivore.

Here’s what makes me sick: BigPharma owns animal health, too. Every BigPharma corporation has an animal health division. As in livestock production. And BigPharma owns the land grant universities and the producers’ associations.

The cattle industry should be screaming about this from the rooftops until they’re blue in the face… but they won’t because their BigPharma Sugardaddies want everyone sick and on statins.

I don’t eat potatoes often, but when I do, they’re deep fried in beef tallow in order to redeem them nutritionally.

And I only eat pancakes once every two years or so, but when I do, they’re shallow fried in bacon grease in order to redeem them nutritionally.

Feast of St. Alphonsus Liguori: Our Imprisoned King

crucifixion -smaller

In obedience to humanity, the King of the Universe come down from heaven! In obedience to humanity, He lives imprisoned on the altar! I shall not resist. He allows humans to keep Him wherever they wish-in monstrance or tabernacle; to carry Him in procession; to bring Him into the homes of the sick and dying; to dispense Him to all, whether saint or sinner. The gospel tells how marvelously He obeyed Mary and Joseph. Today He obeys every priest in the world.
-St. Alphonsus Liguori

Lee Harvey Asperger Crooks is openly running upright on the roof because he KNEW he wouldn’t be shot by his handlers, AKA the United States Secret Service / Department of Homeland Security. Stupid bastard.

Toldya.

All the endless talk of “incompetence”, “failure” and “resignations” is pure head fake distraction.

This is capital murder. The penalty for capital murder is death, not resignation, or a letter in one’s personnel file.

Mailbag: Go clean up the kitchen! AND the bathroom!!

Ann,


I agree with everything you wrote, but there is something I’d like to add. It’s in regards to “happiness” which has been touted as THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS.

I once heard a gentleman say that you will not always derive happiness from your family, but you SHOULD derive fulfillment and satisfaction. I really couldn’t agree more. Unless you are in a perpetual state of mortal sin, it really is a cause-and-effect when following your vocation.

I am the mother of nine children (recently found out #10 due next year). We have seven sons, so counting my husband, there are eight males in the house. I’m sure you can only imagine the amount of cooking I do, and not to be crude, but the continuous state of our bathrooms. Both are a source of sanctity for me. Am I “happy“ to always be doing those things? No. To be completely honest, I’ve never really enjoyed cooking (although I have gotten quite good at it) and dirty bathrooms gross me out. God definitely has a sense of humor.

But I derive immense FULFILLMENT and SATISFACTION from caring for my family.

It is deeply engrained in women to do so, and to fight against it is pure misery.

Keep it up, Ann.
-Mrs. Clean

Go Clean Up the Kitchen, You Stupid, Stupid Woman (reprint on the Feast of St. Martha because this one is not merely evergreen, but gets better every year…)

(I was reminded at Mass today on this the feast of St. Martha of domestic happiness, and this piece which I wrote for The Remnant Newspaper a few years back.  It was wildly popular when it was first published, with only a handful of women griping about it.  Most women loved it, and for many it brought back happy memories of their own mothers and/or grandmothers, busily and lovingly taking care of the business of the household.  We know St. Martha must have been a stupendous hostess, as today’s Gospel specifically states that Our Lord availed Himself of her (and her siblings’) hospitality FREQUENTLY.  It also reminded me that I should watch one of my favorite movies tonight – “Marty”.)

I have had this piece in the back of my mind for some time, and have even run the title and general gist of it past a few people, all of whose eyes sparkled like the transporter beam of the Enterprise-A upon hearing it.

Long, long ago in a galaxy far, far away, I lived in a large, shared house built in the 1920s with a male friend.  I had the master bedroom suite, and thus my own private bathroom, and everything was completely on the up-and-up.  Fear not, gentle readers.  I shall not be scandalizing you with tales of ribaldry – no “accompanying body-to-body” going on, to use one of FrancisChurch’s creepier turns of phrase.  It was an excellent use of the property, and very frugal and affordable.  And, yes, I certainly preferred to live with males, from both the security as well as a domestic tranquility standpoint.

In this particular case, I did, in fact, greatly admire and count as a treasured friend the male housemate, and no matter what great adventure I had been on in those heady days of my youth, when my learning curve was near-vertical, and every day seemed an adventure, it was always a pleasure to simply go home.

I have always been a bit of a “foodie”, and would often eat out, arriving home after the “rush hour” in the relatively large and well-equipped house kitchen was over for the evening.  In fact, four out of five dentists surveyed would have guessed that my shelf in the refrigerator, packed with condiments, pickles, recycled glass jars of bacon drippings, and as many bottles of Corona Extra as would fit in the remaining void, was the “man shelf”. And they would have been wrong.  But I digress.

My evening ritual before turning in for the night was, in order, to go into the kitchen, wash and dry any and all dishes and cookware used that day, including the coffee pot, lift the grates off of the gas stovetop and thoroughly clean and polish the stainless steel stovetop, clean the countertops, kitchen table, and stainless steel double basin sink, and finally replace the stove grates and then set upon the perfectly clean stove the small saucepan for my friend to heat his milk for the next morning’s coffee.

Bear in mind, rarely were any of the dishes dirtied by me, as I ate out more often than not.  Further, I was almost never the first in the kitchen in the morning, and was not a ritual morning coffee drinker.  I cleaned the kitchen and set out the next morning’s accouterment not for myself, but for my friend and housemate.  I wanted him to start his day off not with a dirty kitchen, dishes stacked in the sink, and a grease-covered stove, the thought in the back of his mind, “Oh, I’m going to have to clean this kitchen after I get home from work today….”

No. I wanted to give him the smallest of gifts – a little help around the house. And God forgive me, that twenty minutes of quiet, nightly kitchen clean-up, in particular the polishing of the stove and setting out of the saucepan, was the best part of my day. If I were dishonest I would say that something liturgical or some formal prayer was the best part of my day, but it wasn’t.  The silent, spontaneous prayer of thanksgiving that flowed out of my soul as I recalled that day’s events, and how happy I was to be where I was, surrounded by friends, recalling past adventures and making plans for future adventures, and praying for my friend and housemate and his intentions, as I scrubbed grease splatter off of the stove with Ajax grease cutting spray and paper towels – that was the best part of my day.

To this day, if asked to pinpoint my zenith of personal happiness, it has nothing to do with my personal accomplishments in business – my first cattle marketing school, the opening of my brokerage firm, or even my first six-figure month. Nor does it have to do with my reception into the Church, which was more a feeling of relief than anything else.  If you ask me when I felt happy – truly, truly happy – it was when I was cleaning up for a man.  So roll that up real tight in your Virginia Slim cigarette and smoke it, Betty Friedan. It’s almost as if there is some sort of hard-wiring given to us by God – factory-loaded software if you will – nudging us toward our gender-specific vocations that will make us truly happy.

One evening as I was doing the evening tidy-up, my friend and housemate, having eaten his dinner in his room, brought his dishes into the kitchen after I had started cleaning up.  I happily reached out to take his dishes to wash, as I was already standing at the sink washing dishes.  He said, “No, I’ll do it.” And I happily replied, “No, I’m happy to do it.”  Which, as we just covered above, was the understatement of the evening.  At this, he angrily handed me the dishes, growled contemptuously, “You’re SO annoying,” and walked out.

Being human, I was certainly wounded at the revelation that the best part of my day, this small yet concrete act of charity, was a source of annoyance for my friend.  But, I also remembered a book I had read about the life of St. Joseph by the mystic Maria Cecilia Baij.

Baij claimed that the events of the life of St. Joseph were told to her by Our Lord Himself, and I found the book to be most informative and credible.  In it, the Blessed Virgin is described as a meticulous housekeeper, not out of the slightest hint of personal pride, obviously, but out of pure love for Our Lord and St. Joseph.  

Further, I was struck by the realization that Our Lord, who could have miraculously “cleaned” the house for His mother, or summoned angels to do it, let her do it.  Why? Because He wanted her to be happy, and we can only be truly happy when what we do is motivated by love, and what we are doing is proper to our state in life.  She loved St. Joseph because he was one of the finest and most admirable men who has ever lived, and he was her most chaste husband, and she was his wife ever virgin, and she loved Our Lord because He is God, and also her Son.  She who was full of grace, and thus capable of such tremendous love, was, in keeping with her state in life of woman, wife and mother, made truly happy in taking care of and cleaning up after her “Boys”.

After thinking on this, I resolved that I would not stop doing my evening clean-up, and I did until the very end.  I still remember the last night in that house, crying and crying as I polished the stove and set out the saucepan one last time.

Flash forward to today, wherein one of the main focuses of my writing and lecturing is Diabolical Narcissism.  Diabolical Narcissism is the psycho-spiritual driver behind most of the cultural pathologies we see around us today.  Diabolical Narcissism is broadly defined as when a human being, like the fallen angels, freely chooses to purge themselves of all charity, leaving them incapable of love or empathy, and capable of only the demonic emotional palate of anger, hatred, jealousy and fear.  These people are incredibly dangerous to souls as they, like the demons, literally hunt other human beings, attempting to murder not their bodies, but their souls, out of pure spite.

One of the points of nexus I made early on in researching Diabolical Narcissism was that the subset of Marxism commonly called “feminism” is nothing less than the explicit attempt to turn women en masse into Diabolical Narcissists – whereas women have historically comprised less than 20% of the total of Diabolical Narcissists in western populations.  Feminism demands that a woman be totally selfish, and beyond that hate men qua men, hate marriage, and even hate their own children to the point of demanding the state-protected, state-financed ability to premeditatedly murder them.

But where it all began was with the notion that any sort of work performed by a woman around the house was drudgery, a waste of time, an act of patriarchal oppression, even legalized slavery.  Many women today in the post-Christian west are shockingly bad housekeepers, and not just because they are working outside the home.  Many stay-at-home wives and mothers are content to live in squalor, even proud of the fact that they are “sticking it to the man”, boasting of their refusal to clean or inability to cook.

Are we surprised?  As true charity is purged from every corner of our culture, replaced with a self-worshiping narcissistic humanism, is it any wonder that today’s women are simply incapable of understanding how it could possibly be that cleaning the kitchen, doing the laundry, or even that most primordial of caring acts, FEEDING another human being, could possibly make them happy, much less fulfill them as women on this mortal coil?

One of my favorite movies is 1954’s “Marty” starring Ernest Borgnine.  A side plot in the film revolves around two widowed sisters, immigrants from Italy, living in the Bronx.  One widowed sister has just moved in with her son, his new wife and their infant child.  The mother is angry and frustrated with her daughter-in-law because the mother can no longer be the sole housekeeper.  While her behavior toward her daughter-in-law is selfish and wrong, she gives a moving speech to her sister, also a widow but still living in her large family home and taking care of her remaining bachelor son, Marty, about the horror of growing old and not having anyone to take care of, not having anything to do.

To today’s women and girls, this sentiment is incomprehensible.  How could a woman complain, much less fall into a depression, because she doesn’t have to clean up after anyone, doesn’t have to do anyone’s laundry, doesn’t have to cook?  In other words, how can a woman not be overjoyed at having no one to love?

Goodness me, how I do hate feminism with a perfect hatred.

The lesson in all of this is to learn to be animated in our work by the love of God, because then all of our tasks and chores that we perform for others which the world considers menial drudgery at best and horrifically unpleasant at worst, including for perfect strangers, will yield that same happiness that comes from doing something for someone we love personally, be it a spouse, child, family member or friend.  This is called, “sanctity”, and is what drove the centuries of religious who took care of the sick and dying, the destitute poor, and orphans.  They saw Christ in every face.  Even those chores that those of us who are single and live alone do for ourselves can be done for the love of God.  And yes, to this day when I clean my own stove I still pray.  But what I wouldn’t give for just one more night to clean up for my friend, because looking back at my life, that was the closest I ever came to being a normal woman, which is why I was, in retrospect, so happy.

And so, when I hear a woman, especially a woman with a family, complaining about housework using the standard diabolical narcissist feminist boilerplate that we can all recite, all I can think is, “Go clean up the kitchen, you stupid, stupid woman.”