More Poisonous Fruit from the Cult of Voris

More Poisonous Fruit from the Cult of Voris December 19, 2012

So the most excellent Simcha Fisher, being a healthy human being, notes her distaste with Michael Voris offering a Caribbean Lenten Luxury Cruise for a thousand bucks a head (all while trying to portray the whole thing as some valiant act of spiritual warfare with Enemies of His Pure Faith while, as is his custom, really only fanning  into flame the arrogant pride of his Cult of Personality).  But, because she is a fundamentally wise, good and decent person, she feels disappointed with herself for focusing on Mr. Scourge-of Professional-Catholics-Who-Charges-Fat-Premiums-and-Accuses-Good-Bishops-of-Being-Gay-and-Good-Catholics-of-Being-Heretics-While-Mainstreaming-Nutty-Anti-Semite‘s hypocrisy and turns her perfectly understandable eyeroll at the Cult of Voris to something good by recommending a bunch of charities and works of mercy you could send a thousand bucks to instead.

Things are going swimmingly until the Inquisitors at Pewsitter get wind of it and send the Voris Cult off like flying monkeys to hijack the entire thread with encomiums of adoration of their favorite demagogue and the typical accusations of Impurity against a faithful Catholic that are the Cult of Voris’ bread and butter–and which he constantly encourages. Nothing else matters to them–and certainly not the poor–other than the Dear Leader who tells them what their itching ears want to hear about their immense superiority to all us unwashed CINOs.

The whole thing is a cult and a toxic one. It peddles worship of Voris as “orthodoxy”, sends out flying monkeys to halt works of mercy so that false accusations can be leveled against a good woman and a demagogue can be exalted at the expense of the poor. It battles, not real evils, but people like Abp. Vigneron, Bp. Mulvey, the Knights of Columbus, SOLT, EWTN, the Register, CNA, and It’s poison. And I sincerely hope I will be honored by inclusion on the Cult of Voris’ hit list right behind Simcha. Come and get me, you weenies.

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