Those who are less than vigilant may not recall that, according to E. Michael Jones’ Culture Wars, I am a dangerous member of the Neocon Cabal. The irrefutable proof of this was given in the May 2007 issue of “Culture Wars” (featuring a priest in clericals on the cover). Turning to page 23 of the publication we found a picture of five men seated around what appears to be two restaurant tables pushed together.
The caption for the photo read “The Neocon Cabal meets in Michigan: Father Robert Sirico (middle, left) across the table from Father Rob Johansen (l) and Mark Shea (r).” The article by Thomas J. Herron containing this picture was titled “Robert Sirico and the Sins that Cry to Heaven for Vengence.” The article opens with a quotation from my blog:
“Greetings from Michigan! I’m blogging briefly from the rectory of St. Stanislaus parish before we go to lunch in Kalamazoo and I meet (among others) Fr. Robert Sirico, thereby confirming the darkest suspicions of Thomas Herron and other Culture Warriors. After our Scheming Neocon Catholic Lunch we will synchronize watches, split up, and do our bit to fatten ourselves on the Da Vinci Code, subvert the Church with Zionist sympathies, and act the Court Prophet for the glories of George Dubya Bush, Democratic Capitalism, and the American Way. All in a day’s work for a simpleminded half-Protestant convert who does not fully grasp the mind of the Church.” – June 8, 2006, Mark Shea of Seattle, WA noted Catholic convert and writer on his blog Catholic and Enjoying it!
So I brazenly admit it, confident that Mossad and my gay Neocon masters will protect me from harm. (I also cunningly spend the rest of that post criticizing Neocon torture enthusiasms, just to throw the ever-vigilant Jones and Co. off my scent. But they were too clever–damn them–and saw through my disguise. In my panic over being discovered, I blurted out everything here. Yes. It’s true. I *am* guilty of having lunch with Fr. Robert Sirico once. And when a man has done a thing like that, there’s no hope of purification from *that* sin.
So, sinister agent of chaos that I am, I thought I would do something just to mess with Mr. Jones’ head and, with luck, drive him stark staring mad. Cunning strategist that I am, I decided to wait a few years and lull him into a false sense of security. Then, when my plans were ripe, I struck! It all happened with lightning speed this past Monday between doctors appointments and feeling crappy: My wife and I went to the Space Needle to rendezvous with none other than Scott P. Richert (editor of Chronicles) and his wife Amy. Scott, who was wearing a beard (just as Marx, Lenin, Stalin, and Castro wore beards) was in town for some sort of secret conference on computers, devices which are often used by Communists for gathering data and storing pornography. After exchanging our secret Jewish/Masonic handshake (taught me by Sirico during that infamous lunch long ago) we took a moment to sync up our GPS Orbital Laser Mind Control uplink/downlink chips with the Vatican Satellite in geosynchronous orbit over Seattle. Once plugged into a secure line behind the HiveMind Firewall, we could communicate and I was able to tell him… well, things. Things that would make E. Michael Jones quail in fear if he only knew how deep the rabbit hole goes.
We behaved, of course, as ordinary members of your species as we visited the Science Fiction Museum and the Food Court. Our mates too, communicated in a way that strongly suggested the the normal interaction of adult female homo sapiens. And the juveniles we brought gamboled and frolicked in a reasonable facsimile of ordinary American children who are in no way associated with a conspiracy so diabolical it stretches from the Acton Institute to the offices of Chronicles and beyond. We also visited the Seattle Aquarium, where Jews and Masons often go to look at fish. I cannot reveal the contents of my conversation with “Richert” and his “beard”. But I can tell you that we may soon have photographic evidence of what historians will soon refer to as “The Richert Visit” and that this photograph (taken in a city known for having both Jews and Masons actually living in it) may well form the basis of another Culture Wars expose that will rip the lid off the seamy underbelly of the subversive Jewish Neocon crocodile of Paleoconservative pseudoCatholicism that is blooming like a stinking skunk cabbage in the garden of mixed metaphors.