“I prefer not to be a prophet here, but I’m pretty sure that there is an enormous probability that all of you, we included, may be excommunicated, declared in schism, there is a very high probability because they already said it in public. So, they are so to say, forcing themselves to do it. But whatever, God can do miracles. It’s not the end.”
– Bishop Fellay at St. Mary’s, Kansas, April 19, 2026
As we approach the Endgame, we begin to see the final moments—the unveiling—of “the Ape of the Church”, as Anthony Stine always likes to call it. The conquest is pretty much complete, and the masks are falling off. The Vatican is as queer as a three dollar bill now, and it’s rolling out a globohomo banquet of domesticated sodomy for the West and the world.
“Where are the men which are visiting you tonight? Bring them out to us, so that we may…know them. [giggle, giggle]
Ratified sodomy, as Barnhardt terms it. And I am, of course, referring to the latest “gay parade” over at St. Peter’s Square this past week, where Prevost was holding a General Audience for his fake, not-Catholic papacy. The Vatican band serenaded the antipope with ABBA’s hit 1977 pop song, Dancing Queen. Because as we all know, Rome is absolutely filled with them. Chris Jackson’s excoriation explained it best:
“Anyone pretending not to understand its cultural coding is playing the usual game. Dancing Queen has long been treated as a gay anthem, associated with camp, queer nightlife, Pride culture, and LGBTQ social spaces. The Los Angeles Times described the song as “synonymous with queer nightlife,” while Xtra readers once chose it as their favorite Pride anthem.
So when that song turns up in St. Peter’s Square, during a papal audience, under a pontificate already surrounded by rainbow signals, one does not need paranoia to notice the pattern. One only needs ears.
Perhaps I’m coming off a little brash about this. But I don’t have time anymore to pretend this isn’t happening. I’m sure the rest of society will catch up to me in six months to a year. But I’m all out of couth and delicacy. Maybe Rich Raho can nod his head with glee and affirm this gaslighting humiliation ritual, but I’m raising children.
Where are our Catholic armies? The Crusades were waged for less than this.
Continue reading at The Weltgeist