If only it was a Catholic Church...

Ely Cathedral


Lincoln Cathedral


Westminster Abbey


St Bartholomew's Church, London Road, Brighton

I was sat on the grass, Providence Place, outside St Bartholomew's Church off London Road yesterday. You can lie on the grass and look up at the Ark like Church that towers over London Road. It is apparently, the tallest Church in Europe. It is a formidable and imposing structure. And then I had a thought...if only it were a Catholic Church! Then I thought of other Churches which are more imposing and beautiful, such as the ones pictured above. I thought...if only they were Catholic Churches! I don't know about St Bartholomews, but all the other ones were definitely nicked by Protestants during the reign of Henry VIII. Why didn't someone at the time say, "Oi! Get your filthy mitts off our Churches!"

I wasn't expecting a call from the Ecumenical Council of Churches anyway...

Jeremiah Johnson

In lieu of reviewing yet another mediocre musical I stupidly decided to watch (hello, Dreamgirls!), here's a review of Sydney Pollack's 1972 Western Jeremiah Johnson - a decidedly unique and different Western of a sort rarely made by Hollywood, or anyone else really. It has a lot more going for it than mere novelty, however.

The title character (Robert Redford) is a drifter and presumed Army deserter who, in around 1850, decides to strike out for the wide-open frontier of the Old West and live as a self-sufficient mountaineer. Jeremiah struggles to adapt to his new life, until he's helped by grizzled fur trapper Bear Claw (Will Geer) and eccentric ne'er-do-well Del Gue (Stefan Gierasch). Jeremiah befriends a tribe of Flathead Indians and marries Swan (Delle Bolton), the daughter of their chief (Richard Angarola); he also adopts an orphaned boy (Josh Albee) who has survived a Blackfeet massacre, and the trio set up shop in the mountains. When Jeremiah helps a troop of cavalry cross a mountain pass on sacred Crow land, however, his makeshift family is slain by vengeful Indians - leading Jeremiah on a long and bloody vendetta against their killers.

Jeremiah Johnson scores some points for its premise alone. The story of trappers and mountain-men is only rarely told in Hollywood; while pop culture of the 19th and early 20th Centuries celebrated "squaw men" like Davy Crocket and Daniel Boone, who forsook white society for solitary existence in the Wilderness, few movies have actually been made on the subject. Certainly it's refreshing to see a film mostly bereft of the usual gunslinger/pioneer/bandit/cowboys-and-Indians trappings. But it's more than just the idea and story that sells the film. From the dialogue to the music to the gorgeous scenery to the pitch-perfect cast, the film has a complete sense of authenticity.

The film's wonderful moral ambiguity is perhaps its best feature. It lacks the politicking of many contemporary Westerns (The Wild Bunch, Ulzana's Raid, Duck You Sucker!), and mostly lacks the conventional heroics one might expect from the genre; it simply tells a story well. The film is mostly careful to avoid painting either Indians or settlers as "bad", which is welcome; along with Black Robe and Broken Arrow, it's one of the few films to give a nuanced and fairly accurate depiction of Native Americans without resorting to the Noble Savage stereotype of, say, Dances With Wolves or Little Big Man. The cavalry troop violates Crow land but only to deliver food and supplies to starving settlers (shades of the Donner Party?); the Crow's raid on the Johnson homestead is merely a retaliation against that. Jeremiah's vendetta against the Crow is the only part of the film that approaches cliche or convention, but the film redeems the blood-soaked heroics with a wonderfully unexpected conclusion. Commendably, the film doesn't make any broad statements about imperialism or settlement of the West; it's simply the story of a man trying to survive in a rough and cruel wilderness. And for that, the film deserves a lot of commendation.

Sydney Pollack provides wonderful direction; he uses his cast economically and well, and makes the most of a truly awe-inspiring set of locations. The film has an endless variety of beautiful scenery, from frozen, snowbound mountain-tops to sandy desert to pristine woodland; the movie certainly has a lot of variety in its locations, all captured beautifully by Duke Callaghan's cinematography. The art direction and costume design are rough-hewn and period-perfect, creating a wonderful sense of authenticity. The music is also worthy of praise: Tim McIntire and John Rubinstein contribute a wonderfully authentic, rustic and evocative score that adds immeasurably to the film.

Special praise, I think, goes out for the script: if there's a better duo of collaborating screenwriters than John Milius (The Wind and the Lion) and Edward Anhalt (Becket) out there (maybe Robert Bolt and Michael Wilson), I'd like to know about it; their script is wonderfully economical and sparse, with long passages without speech; the scant dialogue that is provided is appropriately rustic and colorful without overdoing it. This is one of the few Westerns that actually sounds period-authentic in its dialogue.

Robert Redford carries most of the film admirably; his tough, misanthropic mountain man is a departure from his usual breezy persona, and Redford gives very near a career-best turn. The film is very frequently stolen, however, by a colorful supporting cast, particularly Will Geer as the wily trapper who teaches Jeremiah the tricks of the trade, and Stefan Gierasch as an eccentric drifter with a grudge against Indians. The Indian cast acquits themselves well; Joaquin Martinez, Richard Angalora and the beautiful Del Bolton all give brief but fine performances.

Jeremiah Johnson is a great film and a wonderfully unique and original entry in the Western genre. Many other Westerns are better as entertainment and art, but few match the film's stark, unforgiving sense of realism.

Rating: 8/10 - Highly Recommended

Oratorians

Oratre fratres!

I drove up to the Brompton Oratory for another fix of Mass in the Extraordinary Form on Sunday. I was right at the back of the very ornate and beautiful Church so I was unable to get an eyeful of the Sacred Vestments. Suffice to say however that they will have been splendid. It was, of course, the Feast of SS Peter and Paul. St Peter, enthroned, was dressed up to the hilt in red and gold.

The choir sang some wonderful polyphony and chant, but of course, due to the fact that the Oratory is so spacious, it is difficult for them to really fill the Church with sound. Not so much a problem, when we have a large choir, at St Mary Magdalen's Church, Brighton.

These are exciting times at BN1. Existing proposals for renovation of the building look like they will make a huge impact on an already beautiful Church. Hopefully the Church will be given the financial go-ahead to begin the work. Apparently, in the plans for the renovation, the gallery will be restored and the Choir will have its own place to sing our own Gregorian Chant, and hopefully, one day, polyphony at St Mary Magdalen's. If only more parish Churches took some leaves out of the Oratorians book on liturgy!

St Philip Neri, founder of the Oratorians, was a very inspiring Saint. He established a lay order of Little Brothers of the Oratory and had many lay men deepening their faith and bringing the Faith of Christ to many others. Who knows, perhaps one day some of the Oratorian practices will be established in the heart of Brighton. With the apostolic and liturgical efforts of a handful of Sussex priests, it is a distinct possibility...The Brighton Oratory!

Brief Encounter

David Lean's Brief Encounter (1945) is rightfully regarded as one of the best melodramas ever filmed, and the director's first masterpiece. Although I might argue that Blithe Spirit is his first truly great film, that was mostly due to the source material and the cast. This economical adaptation of Noel Coward's Still Life shows Lean coming into his own as a director. He certainly has help from a talented crew, a fine screenplay and two wonderful leads, but Lean can claim credit for the quality of the overall product. Rarely has a romance film been so brutally, simply honest about its subject matter.

Laura Jesson (Celia Johnson) is a typical middle-aged British housewife who meets handsome Dr. Alec Harvey (Trevor Howard) at a train station. The two bump into each other by accident several times afterwards and continue to see each other, realizing that they've fallen madly in love. Laura tries to keep her affair from her stuffy husband (Cyril Raymond), but finds herself overwhelmed by guilt, unable to look friends and neighbors in the eye. Despite her efforts to break off the affair, Laura finds her feelings for Alec far too strong.

Brief Encounter mostly works on account of its marvellous simplicity. At 86 minutes, it flies by, and aside from the subplot with station work Joyce Carrey and bumptious engineer Stanley Holloway (characters who played a much larger role in Coward's play, but are largely superfluous here), wonderfully focused and free of fat. It is a simple story of two middle aged people seized by something "violent", a feeling of love beyond their control or experience.

The movie's two main characters are wonderfully drawn. Laura is a wonderful mother and loving wife, but finds her boring husband unsatisfying; certainly, compared to her glamorous paramour he's a nonentity. (Their relationship, with him indifferently scribbling in a crossword puzzle while she ponders her infidelity, is almost identical to the Robert Mitchum-Sarah Miles marriage in Ryan's Daughter.) Laura finds herself torn apart, unable to reconcile with her inexorable guilt with her passionate attraction, compounded by her increasing lies and deception to her husband and friends. Alec is a very ambiguous character; as we see him almost entirely from Laura's point-of-view (aside from the brief scene where he tries to hide Laura from a flatmate (Valentine Dyall)), it's hard to tell his motives. Is he genuinely in love with Laura, or does he just see her as a fling? Either way, something is surely there, something that neither knew could exist in real life, and both are shocked by it.

The affair between the two leads isn't really tawdry as such - so far as we can tell Alec and Laura never consummate their relationship, and in that sense it remains "innocent". Still, the poignancy and intensity of their mutual affection is always evident; it's clear that their "middle-class morality" has prevented either from experiencing true affection rather than marriage of necessity, appearance or security. Maybe I'm just a stuffy moralist, but I find the film's ending both sad and wonderfully cheerful - the truly loving husband, not the glamorous, mysterious romantic, gets the woman. He can't satisfy her more passionate wants, but he is who she ultimately "needs" as a husband. This must have been a very pertinent dilemna to Lean, he of the tumultuous private life, and certainly as relatable as Ibsen's A Doll's House to countless couples living in frayed and perhaps loveless marriages the world over.

Lean's direction is extraordinary. After three relatively minor films, he has finely honed his cinematic skills. He shows a marvellous, well-developed camera eye and attention to detail of teh sort that would become his trademark in later years. Robert Krasker's moody, emotional makes striking use of deep focus, shadow and Dutch angles; along with Laura's narration, the film often more reminiscent of a noir rather than a melodrama. The use of an all-Rachmaninoff score is wonderfully realized, adding a poignant, emotional commentary to the proceedings.

The movie also benefits wonderfully from its two leads. Though Celia Johnson had been in two of Lean's early films, she and Trevor Howard were all but unknown at the time. The supporting cast is mostly iffy - Stanley Holloway and Joyce Carrey's "artificial Cockneys" are painfully annoying, Cyrill Raymond and Valentine Dyall are fine but have little screen time - but the two stars easily carry the film themselves, giving marvellously understated and realistic performances.

Celia Johnson is a marvellous actress. In virtually all of her roles she embodied the typical, middle-class British woman, cheerful, devoted, beautiful (if a bit frumpy) and loving, but with a frisson of dissatisfaction and unease. Her shock and mixed emotions about falling in actual love, her guilt, betraying her family, are perfectly and subtly portrayed. She would be largely typecast in this part on film, with The Captain's Paradise allowing her to break out of her assigned role and have some much-needed fun. But it's Laura that she'll be remembered for, and with good reason: this is Johnson's career-defining performance, and her best.

Equally impressive is Trevor Howard. Despite a lengthy career in American and British cinema, appearing in a plethora of classic films (The Third Man, Gandhi), Howard never really got his due as a great actor, yet another sign of cinematic injustice. This is not quite his best performance - his fiercely moral Father Collins in Lean's later Ryan's Daughter or the inept, ruthlessly arrogant Lord Cardigan in the 1968 Charge of the Light Brigade takes that prize - but it's certainly a brilliant, near-perfect turn by an actor then with little experience. He makes Alec ambiguous and uncertain, both romantic and forward, charming yet with an undertone of distrustfulness.

Brief Encounter is not a perfect film by any means, but it's a powerful emotional experience and a fine work of cinematic art. It may not be the best romance ever filmed, but it's certainly deserving of its high reputation.

Rating: 8/10 - Highly Recommended

Kylie Considering Conversion to Catholic Faith

Kylie Minogue is considering conversion to the Catholic Faith...question is...will Jason follow?

Is this the greatest duet of all time?

Is this the best duet since the Song of Songs?

Are they talking about their love for each other or Christ's love for His Bride, the Church?

Yes, this song is littered with theological reference...

El Cid

Today we take a gander at another Samuel Bronston super-epic, Anthony Mann's El Cid (1961). Of the three Bronston epics I have perused (55 Days at Peking and The Fall of the Roman Empire), it's by far the best, although not entirely free of the bloat and pomposity of the other films. These movies succeed well-enough as flashy spectacle, but they're largely lacking in depth that makes the best epics great.

Rodrigo Díaz de Vivar (Charlton Heston) is a nobleman in a medeval Spain torn between Christians and Muslim Moors. The various provinces and factions of Spain are constantly at war with each other, which makes it an ideal time for bloodthirsty jihadist Ben Yussuf (Herbert Lom) to show up with plans of Muslim conquest. Diaz spares the lives of two Muslim noblemen (Massimo Serato and Frank Thring), and kills the King's right-hand man, Count Gormaz (Andrew Cruikshank), making his loyalty to Castillian King Ferdinand (Ralph Truman) highly suspect. He marries Jimena (Sophia Loren), the beautiful daughter of the late Count, only to find her love conflicted with thoughts of avenging her father. Nonetheless, while Spain hovers near civil war after the death of Ferdinand, Cid organizes an army of Christian and Muslim troops to oppose Yussuf's masses of holy warriors, leading to an epic confrontation outside the sea port of Valencia.

The problem with Bronston's epics is pretty easy to decipher. There are two major schools of historical epics: the bombastic specatcle epic of the Cecil B. DeMille school, where spectacle, set design, battle scenes and big stars are the attraction, and the "intimate epic", the province of Gone With the Wind, Ben-Hur, Spartacus and David Lean's best films (Lawrence of Arabia, A Passage to India), where story and characters are closely and carefully drawn and complement the purely cinematic aspects of the film. I generally prefer the second school, because it is much easier to become involved in a film whose story and characters. Bronston's work seems to fall in the former category - movies that are impressive as spectacle, but don't register on much any other level, leaving them curiously distant and empty, for all their superficial charm. This film's director is Anthony Mann, director of such Western character studies as The Tin Star and Winchester '73, and one might expect him to have the same character touches as a Lean or Wyler that came up through closely-observed dramas; but this movie suffers from the same flaws. Except for Heston's protagonists, the characters are broadly drawn and the narrative unimportant to the endless parade of swordfights, jousts, crowd scenes and battle sequences. This isn't in and of itself a flaw, but it prevents the film from achieving true greatness; it's good but fairly simple entertainment.

The film's conflict of Christians and secularists versus anti-intellectual Muslim fundamentalists is much more relevant today than in 1961. The film tries its best to avoid stereotyping either group, with some nice scenes as a campfire fraternization between Cid's Christian and Muslim followers - but again the film's seeming inability to be intimate handicaps such noble intentions. Brownfaced Herbert Lom and his faceless hordes are effectively fearsome, so perhaps it's pedantic to bemoan their simplistic portrayal. The Christian Spaniards, led ultimately by the dopish King Alfonso (John Fraser) are more than eager to slit Muslim throats at the drop of a hat, even when they pledge fealty to the crown; Cid's private army is a collection of peasants and outsiders who don't really fall under either category.

In its exploration of such themes, the movie clearly inspired many another epic, from Lawrence of Arabia and The Wind and the Lion (which used Herbert Lom's menacing black garb for Sean Connery's Raisuli and the impressive Moorish palace for the Bashaw's residence), to Ridley Scott's recent Kingdom of Heaven, which similarly posited religious extremists as the source of all the world's problems - a viewpoint which may please Richard Dawkins or Christopher Hitchens, but is too simplistic to really take seriously. The real problem is culture as much as religion (though, to be fair, the two are not mutually exclusive), with politics, perfidy and selfish power hunger inevitably playing their part in creating trouble. Even if we all had the same religion, there would still be greed, corruption and self-interest in the world, just in a more concentrated form.

All that blather aside, the film largely succeeds at what it sets out to do, however. For sheer spectacle, it's very hard to beat; Robert Krasker's 70mm cinematography is gorgeous, the set design and art direction without peer. Mann's direction is good enough, but most of the credit for the film's big scene must fall on second-unit directors like Yakima Canutt. The film contains some of the best action scenes ever filmed, including Heston's joust with an Aragonian knight and the bloody final battle. And Miklos Rosza contributes his usual rousing, bombastic score that adds thundering emotion to the proceedings. I am torn, however, as to whether the film's final sequence, with a mortally wounded El Cid triumphantly dispersing the evil Muslim army whilst scarcely raising a sword, is really cool or hopelessly anticlimactic. For the most part, though, the movie succeeds on the level of huge-scale, swashbuckling entertainment.

Charlton Heston is a fine Cid; he's always at his best playing larger than life protagonists and is perfect. Sophia Loren is lovely and has more to do than in her other Bronston film, but her performance is rather bland after her initial revenge scheming peters out. The supporting cast is mostly bland: Herbert Lom is given only a few brief scenes and is never as menacing as he should be, Raf Vallone and John Fraser are stiff as Cid's Spanish rivals, and few of the other cast members have enough time to register.

I like El Cid enough to recommend it with some reservations. It has some great moments and some of the best battle scenes ever put on film. But its characters and story have something to be desired, and what could have been a great film is merely a very good one. I guess I shouldn't complain too much, though.

Rating: 7/10 - Recommended

African Women with HIV 'Coerced into Sterilisation'

Courtesy of The Guardian

Women in Africa are being sterilised without their consent after being told the procedure is a routine treatment for Aids, a lawsuit will claim. Forty HIV-positive women in Namibia have been made infertile against their will, according to the International Community of Women Living with HIV/Aids (ICW). The group is preparing to sue the Namibian government over at least 15 cases.

Campaigners also report coerced sterilisation in the Democratic Republic of Congo, Zambia and South Africa, where according to one report a 14-year-old girl was told she could have an abortion only on condition that she agreed to sacrifice her reproductive rights.

The ICW has documented cases in Namibia where HIV-positive women minutes from giving birth were encouraged to sign consent forms to prevent them from having more children. Jennifer Gatsi-Mallet, its co-ordinator in the country, said: "They were in pain, they were told to sign, they didn't know what it was. They thought that it was part of their HIV treatment. None of them knew what sterilisation was, including those from urban areas, because it was never explained to them.

"After six weeks they went to the family planning centre for birth control pills and were told that it's not necessary: they're sterile. Most of them were very upset. When they went back to the hospital and asked, 'Why did you do this to us?' the answer was: 'You've got HIV'."

Gatsi-Mallet said that some women were now afraid to go to hospital in case they are sterilised, and infertile women were often rejected by their husbands and communities: "In African culture, if you are not able to have children, you are ostracised. It's worse than having HIV."

African women aged between 20 and 34 have a higher prevalence of HIV than any other social group; in South Africa one in three is infected. On average an HIV-positive mother has a one in four risk of transmitting the virus to her child. With the latest antiretroviral drugs, the probability can be cut to less than one in 50. But such medical interventions are underfunded and inaccessible to millions of women across the continent.

The ICW accuses the Namibian government of encouraging state doctors to sterilise HIV-positive women as a means of preventing the spread of the virus. Its request to see the government's official guidelines has been refused. It hopes to bring 15 or more cases to court later this year.

A media report from Namibia last week highlighted the plight of Hilma Nendongo. A few weeks after giving birth, she was asked by a nurse: "Oh, did they tell you that you had been sterilised?" Nendongo, 30, who is HIV-positive, suddenly remembered that hospital staff had told her to sign some papers as she entered the operating room for a caesarean section. "It was a very big shock," she told Canada's Globe and Mail newspaper. "I was very emotional … I wanted a sister for my three boys, and now I can't have one."

In South Africa, cases are being referred to the Women's Legal Centre with a view to a possible action. Promise Mthembu, a researcher at Witwatersrand University, said coerced sterilisations were happening in "very large areas" of the country. Many patients were forced to undergo the operation as the only means of gaining access to medical services, Mthembu told the Mail & Guardian newspaper.

Alan Keyes Blog

Dr Alan Keyes is at the forefront of the Pro-Life movement in the US. He is a former Republican senator who is outspoken against Obama and his mafia of Planned Parenthood funded cronies. He has been arrested recently along with others at the Notre Dame protest. He vehemently defends the dignity of human life and is loyal to the Magisterium of the Church. He's the kind of politician of whom St Thomas More most surely is proud! He writes very well also.

"What's the difference between a conservative politician and a Republican? The conservative remembers his principles when he's in office. The Republican only acts as if he remembers when he needs our votes to put him there."~ Dr Alan Keyes from blog post, 'Conservative vs. Republican: What’s the difference?'

Click here to see his blog.

Batman Begins

Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins (2005) has been credited, along with its ultra-successful sequel, last year's The Dark Knight, with breathing new life into the played-out and tiresome superhero genre - a genre that has been stretched to the breaking point with film after mediocre film in recent years (two Incredible Hulks, Fantastic 4, Spider-Man, etc.). Personally, I'm not sure that I buy this line of reasoning. To me, despite its pretensions to seriousness, Batman Begins is yet another generic superhero film with the same mixture of overwrought self-importance and unconscious cheesiness that has characterized the genre over the past decade. I'm not the biggest fan of The Dark Knight, or the same year's Iron Man for that matter, but those films are a genuine breath of fresh air compared to this one.

Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) watches his super-rich parents gunned down by a petty criminal in the streets of Gotham, and grows up wanting revenge. His revenge is denied by agents of Gotham crime boss Carmine Falconi (Tom Wilkinson), whose syndicate controls Gotham with bribes, drugs and guns. Wayne goes on the lam as a criminal and ends up in the monestary of the shadowy Raas a'Ghul (Ken Wantanabe) and his mentor Henri Ducard (who else but Liam Neeson?), who run the League of Shadows, a secret society of vigilantes dedicated to wiping out crime and decadence in the world. Bruce finds out that the League is planning an outright destruction of Gotham, and races back to his home city. With the help of his butler Alfred (Michael Caine) and loyal corporate associate Lucius Fox (Morgan Freeman), Wayne transforms himself to the vigilante Batman, taking on Falconi and Dr. Jonathan Crane (Cillian Murphy), who as "the Scarecrow" is working with Raas al'Ghul to destroy Gotham with a hallucinogenic drug that will cause Gothamites to go mad with fear and destroy each other. Also playing a part are Rachel Dawes (Katie Holmes), Bruce's childhood sweetheart-turned-Assistant D.A. (and later turned-Maggie Gyllenhaal), and Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman), one of the few honest cops left in Gotham, who becomes Batman's primary ally.

Claims of critics and fanboys to the contrary, Batman Begins really isn't THAT much different than most superhero films. Despite Nolan's pretensions of creating a darker and more realistic world for the bat to play in, the movie is just as goofy. Semi-realistic villains like Falconi and Crane are left hanging for yet another all-seeing, all-power evil secret society (because who could get enough of them?), whose plot for world domination (or at least Gotham's destruction) seems like the scheme of a particularly lame Bond villain. Characters are only sketchily introduced, and the film has the typical throat-clearing backstory that is both rushed and poorly done. The script is full of clunkily-written pseudo-profundities (along with some just plain cheesy dialogue) that inevitably ring false, when they aren't outright laughable (Falconi's "Don't burden yourself with the secrets of scary people" line may be the worst non-Garbage Day! dialogue in any film); they smack of self-important posturing that can be found in pretty much any film of this genre. All in all, Batman Begins has little to offer that can't be found in pretty much any other superhero film; it's musings on morality and fear are remarkably simplistic and beaten into the audience so often that even the densest three year old would get it.

Technically, the film is pretty good. Nolan's direction is generally solid; he shows a knack for visual style, and handles the film's action scenes reasonably well (though the film lacks a stand-up-and-cheer set-piece like, say, the convoy ambush in The Dark Knight). The movie looks good, for what its worth; it's mostly the script and story that lets the proceedings down. The score by Hans Zimmer and James Newton Howard is repetitive and bland assembly-line junk, with lots of insistent strings and trilling brass that could be culled from any number of action flicks you could care to name.

The cast is a big disappointment; a lot of talent is assembled and mostly wasted. Christian Bale's Bruce Wayne is bland, stiff and boring (let's not even mention the ludicrous Batman voice); I'm becoming more convinced with each film of his I watch that his great performance in Empire of the Sun was a fluke, as he's scarcely given a worthwhile performance since reaching puberty. Katie Holmes is mostly annoying and makes one pine for Maggie Gyllenhaal. Tom Wilkinson, Ken Wantanabe and Cillian Murphy are given thankless roles as secondary bad guys who are poorly introduced and have little to do. Gary Oldman does what he can, but in this installment Gordon is mostly a humorous role. Michael Caine provides wheezy comic relief, and Morgan Freeman's role is virtually superfluous (say what you will about the Burton-Schumaker Batmans, they at least economized their characters). It's Liam Neeson who gives the best performance; he's played the mentor guy in pretty much every film of the last ten years, from The Phantom Menace to Kingdom of Heaven to The Chronicles of Narnia, but he's good at it by now - though he doesn't quite make the transition to evil that the script requires of him. The Dark Knight would do a much better job with its ensemble cast; Oldman, Aaron Eckhardt, and yes, Heath Ledger would all give fine performances far beyond any of the acting on display here.

On the whole, Batman Begins was rather disappointing and has little to offer that the Spider-Man and Fantastic 4 films didn't already bring to the table. Fortunately, Nolan and Company would get a lot more right the second time around, creating a solid, well-written and -acted superhero film distinctly different from the cookie-cutter superhero formula.

Rating: 5/10 - Mediocre

Spiritual Healing

I had a chat with someone of whom I am very, very fond yesterday. She told me that she was planning to go to a 'spiritual healing' event in Leicester Square and that she had been going for quite a while every now and then. She is a 'cradle' Catholic, but like quite a few Catholics is unconvinced by the teachings of the Church. As a convert, it always saddens me greatly when I talk to Catholic friends who feel so distant and removed from the life of the Church, who cannot believe even some of the most central tenets of the Faith and who, having been given the Faith in childhood reject it in the hope of discovering some other spirituality which will answer the core difficulties we face in life. It is common, of course, for people to wander away from the Catholic Faith, or even to still attend Mass but remain unconvinced of the truths revealed to the Church and to find other religions and philosophies more appealing.

At the same time, the popularity of 'new age' religions, which are often so vague as to answer a need for spirituality, while simultaneously offering no doctrine or truth of any depth is concerning, especially given that a few of my friends who are Catholic, as well as those who are not, dabble in it. As a convert, as I say, I find myself thinking, 'But you don't know what it is that you already have and how privileged you are to have been raised in the Catholic Church.' Yet somehow, this does not address a fundamental problem which doubtless will persist and especially if Priests and Bishops do not proclaim the core realities of the Catholic Faith to the Faithful and emphasise the unique and glorious wonder of the Catholic Faith.

With the increase in depression, mental illness and anxiety which mark a society riven by family breakdown and the destruction of the dignity of human life, 'new age' philosophies and practices such as belief in the power of crystals, auras and spiritual 'healing' can become very alluring. Yet at the same time, because these things are not Holy, but rather misleading pseudo-religions and charms, they cannot satisfy the needs of the human heart.



Only this can. At the centre of the Catholic Faith lies a Mystery so profound and breathtaking that it is indeed difficult to comprehend or to believe. The Most Holy Eucharist, that is the Real Presence of God under the guise of bread, is a Mystery so profound as to perplex believers and non-believers alike. The doctrine of the Real Presence is something that should fill us with awe, because the Almighty God, the same Almighty God Who for us became so small as to become for us a Babe, again, daily, becomes so small as to become for us Bread, even the Bread of Life Himself. The late, great, perhaps one day to be beatified, Cardinal Basil Hume wrote that those who suffered disbelief in the Real Presence should pray before the Blessed Sacrament and say, "I believe, Lord, help Thou my unbelief."

As Catholics we, like various 'new age' philosophies believe in a World 'seen and unseen'. For, it is safe to say that beliefs in energy and the like reveal a belief in a world hidden from our eyes and senses. Furthermore, the 'new age' practice of communication with your 'angel' is not something Catholics should be totally unfamiliar with, for even the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI himself, prays to his Guardian Angel, to St Michael the Archangel and to St Raphael as he recently mentioned, for protection.

While as GK Chesterton observed, it is true to say that, "When men cease to believe in God, they do not then believe in nothing, but anything", it is also true to say that the spiritualist beliefs in the power of crystals, tarot, auras, palm reading and energy fields - something which marks something so seemingly innocuous as 'reiki' and the more esoteric yoga practices - it is not as if the Catholic Faith does not contain within it a great Mysticism and Beauty, which is actually incredibly powerful and if meditated upon is utterly magnificent. But maybe, we do not hear enough about it...



If 'new age' beliefs and practices persist and belief in the 'healing power of crystals' or 'auras' persist, then why is it so difficult to believe that when a soul confesses before a Priest, that it is not the Priest himself who is really absolving and forgiving the soul and restoring that soul to purity and beauty, but Our Lord Jesus Christ Himself? Among Catholics, even, the idea that this is indeed truly happening is something difficult to believe. Yet it is a truth of the Holy Faith. It is a truth so sublime and majestic that it should leave us in total awe at God's goodness.



What is more, the Church firmly and with utter conviction believes in Life after Death. The Church firmly says, "Yes, it is true. Heaven does exist! There is a Heaven!" What could be more consoling to the afflicted than this truth!? The Sacrifice of Christ on Calvary has opened up for us the Gates of Heaven! This may not always be an easy life, but who knows how long this life shall last? Is there anything more that God could do for us than, by His unfathomable generosity and mercy, to present us with the Hope of Heaven? The path to Heaven may not be smooth. Indeed we may have to bear a Cross, and the purification of our souls may also take place in the life to come. Yet Heaven exists and is our Eternal Home!

Not only that, but, again, though it is hidden from our eyes and senses, Heaven is actually present at the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass, and just like the unseen 'energies' espoused by the 'new age' religion, though Heaven is hidden from our eyes and senses, we believe that wherever the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass is said, God, His Angels and His Saints are there, praying with us and for us! We may not be able to feel it, perhaps fortunate souls will, but it is happening and we are there in the Presence of God. The Catholic Faith can at times seem very dry, yet it is drenched in the love of God.



All of these truths of the Faith are made known to us by Holy Mother Church and because of our Baptism. It was this that removed from our souls the stain of Original Sin and made us adopted Sons and Daughters of God. All of these wondrous Sacraments are not only breathtaking, but true. Yet so often, we take them for granted.

This must be the reason why Pope Benedict XVI and some Priests and some Bishops loyal to him wish to see the sense of the Sacred, the Mystery and the Holy, returned to parish Churches across the globe. For without a sense of the Divine, without a sense of the sublime, and without a sense of awe that actually transcends our own understanding and sense of the cold and rational - what spirituality can the Church offer to a World crying out for Hope - a Hope which is not only of great consolation amidst suffering, but a Hope which is Eternal and True?

Seriously, if you can think of anything more rich in spirituality than the Catholic Faith, then I would like to hear of it...but I doubt very much that you can. It is because of these truths of the Holy Faith, that beliefs in 'new age' philosophies are to be treated with not contempt, nor derision, but yes suspicion, but also compassion for those who do. For in the light of what or Who it is that all of us are really searching for, whether we admit it or not, we are, all of us, yearning for God, because as St Augustine said, "You have made us for Yourself, O Lord, and our hearts are restless until they rest in Thee." That is our condition and that is why 'new age' religions have appeal of any substance whatsoever. The only response to it is the Treasure of the Church - the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass...the Mystery of Faith.

Yes!

I've just reconciled the St Mary Magdalen's bank accounts with the parish figures! Oh the emotional rollercoaster that is accountancy! The highs! The lows! The blood, the sweat and the tears! Oh happy day! Praise be to God! Oh, yes! Once I was blind! But now I see! Oh Lord! There is no obstacle that Your Grace cannot overcome!

Some Dignitas Patients Could Have 'Lived For Decades'

Dr Anne Turner: her son Edward (centre) has raised questions over assisted suicide.
Photograph: Johnny Green/PA

We can only assume that when this photo was taken, these doctors were not discussing assisted suicide, but then, hey, in their profession, I guess they need a sense of humour...

Today The Guardian pens a good article [shock!] about the concerns raised by several organisations about the way in which Dignitas operates. Dignitas, is, of course, the world-renowned 'clinic' where you can get bumped off at your own request and at a price that's high.

'Senior doctors will tomorow express concern over the number of Britons suffering from non fatal illnesses such as rheumatoid arthritis and kidney disease who have used the Swiss suicide service, Dignitas.

Their fears were raised after the Guardian obtained a list drawn up by Dignitas which reveals the medical conditions which have driven 114 Britons to end their lives at the clinic.

The document shows that while many had terminal illnesses such as cancer and motor neurone disease, others had non-fatal conditions which doctors say some people can live with for decades.'

Click here for full article...

Today is the Feast of St Thomas More & St John Fisher

Pope John Paul II named St Thomas More as Patron of politicians. I think, in our country, they could do with his prayers, but then so could we all! St Thomas More, pray for our Government and parliamentarians that the honesty and integrity you showed in your career may be reflected in theirs!

The Telegraph today pens some amusing jokes at the MP's, err, well... expenses.

Why did the MP bang his head?

Because he'd blacked out all the light bulbs he bought on expenses.

Gordon Brown announced that no MP's will be able to claim furniture expenses from now on.

It was a cabinet decision.

Why did the MP cross the road?

So he could claim a second homes allowance.

Here's one of my own MP expense jokes I just made up...

A murderer, a bank robber and an MP are all sent to prison. In a cell the three exchange stories of how they came to be sentenced for their crimes. They ask each other, "What are you in for?"

When asked by the other two, the murderer replies, "Murder." When asked by the other two the bank robber says, "Armed robbery." "And you?", ask the other two criminals, "You're an MP, aren't you? What are you in for?"

The MP replies, "Whatever I can get."

Courtesy of Catholic Online

St. Thomas More was born at London in 1478. After a thorough grounding in religion and the classics, he entered Oxford to study law. Upon leaving the university he embarked on a legal career which took him to Parliament. In 1505, he married his beloved Jane Colt who bore him four children, andwhen she died at a young age, he married a widow, Alice Middleton, to be a mother for his young children. A wit and a reformer, this learned man numbered Bishops and scholars among his friends, and by 1516 wrote his world-famous book "Utopia". He attracted the attention of Henry VIII who appointed him to a succession of high posts and missions, and finally made him Lord Chancellor in 1529.

However, he resigned in 1532, at the height of his career and reputation, when Henry persisted in holding his own opinions regarding marriage and the supremacy of the Pope. The rest of his life was spent in writing mostly in defense of the Church. In 1534, with his close friend, St. John Fisher, he refused to render allegiance to the King as the Head of the Church of England and was confined to the Tower. Fifteen months later, and nine days after St. John Fisher's execution, he was tried and convicted of treason. He told the court that he could not go against his conscience and wished his judges that "we may yet hereafter in heaven merrily all meet together to everlasting salvation." And on the scaffold, he told the crowd of spectators that he was dying as "the King's good servant-but God's first." He was beheaded on July 6, 1535. His feast day is June 22nd.

Straw Dogs

Having suffered through nothing but rewatches the last week...

American astrophysicist David Sumner (Dustin Hoffman) is a wimpy pacifist who grows tired of the strife and violence raging across America. Along with his pretty young wife, Amy (Susan George), he travels to George's hometown in Cornwall, England. Sumner quickly finds that beneath the idyllic scenery and veneer of small-town friendliness lie a clannish society based on violence and exclusion-ism. A group of townspeople begin playing a series of increasingly vicious pranks on David and Amy, culminating in Amy's rape by two of the more repulsive townspeople (Del Henney and Ken Hutchison). Things still continue on, until David takes in the village idiot, Harry Niles (David Warner), after hitting him with a car and tries to save him from a mob who saw him abduct a young girl. David tries to sort the situation out peacefully, but before long he finds himself resorting to violence to defend himself and his home.

Straw Dogs is an amazingly powerful film, and a widely misunderstood one as well. Critics who seem unable to analyze films on anything but surface meaning accuse it of glamorizing sadism, misogyny and violence; feminists harp on the film's rape scene and the portrayal of Amy, denouncing the film as a male chauvinist fantasy. Both readings of the film are wholly off-base. Although perhaps not as deep as some of Sam Peckinpah's other works, it's easily his best shy of The Wild Bunch, and deals with a deep (and disturbing) topic: humanity's lust for and glorification of violence and death.

Say the name Sam Peckinpah to anyone and what comes to mind? In pretty much every instance, the answer is violence. Graphic violence, slow-motion shoot-outs with bright red blood spurting out of bullet wounds. This is a simplistic way to look at Peckinpah; in his best work (Ride the High Country, The Wild Bunch) he created deep themes and well-rounded characters worthy of a classic novel or play. Even some of his weaker efforts, like Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid and Cross of Iron, have interesting ideas to present, even if not entirely successful. But, it is certainly true that violence - its effects, its terror, its place in society, and, most of all, social enjoyment of it - is a central theme of Peckinpah's films. Merely judging Straw Dogs on the fact that it IS violent is childish and simplistic; it's much more fruitful to address WHY Peckinpah opted to make it violent, and what he's trying to say.

Straw Dogs is perhaps the ultimate distillation of Peckinpah's views on violence. Peckinpah was an ardent fan of Robert Ardrey, the playwright-anthropologist who hypothesized that humans are inured to violence by instinctual urges rather than social pressure or upbringing. This is a very hard view to argue with, for in spite of hypocritical denunciation of violence in the media, the raging street violence, crime, warfare, and violent action movies, TV shows and video games, indicates that the human race thrives on and revels in killing - no matter how much we may like to think otherwise.

Straw Dogs endorses Ardrey's world-view: the people of our out-of-the-way hamlet are easily driven to violence, their sins mostly overlooked by the hypocritically pious town leaders. Even a pacifist like David Sumner is not immune to the allure of murder; his claims of standing up principle (defending Niles, the murderous village idiot, from a mob) are dubious at best. The film has been read as a revenge fantasy a la Death Wish, which is ridiculous; Amy doesn't even tell David about the rape, so that sort of revenge is not really on the table. Rather, it's a cumulative revenge; a man stuck in a small town with no friends, fed up with violence in his own culture, his taunting and torment here, his unhappy marriage to his wife, and his own weakness, allows his long-repressed rage to explode. In the end, even David Sumner is capable of horrific violence; not only that, he enjoys it. And the sheer visceral thrill of watching vile bad guys get handed their just deserts implicates us in the violence as well; none of us are innocent, and all of us are guilty.

Peckinpah's direction is effective, presenting violence in all its glory and horror; he succeeds at showing an externally beautiful but inwardly hideous small town. The cast is good, if unspectacular: Dustin Hoffman embodies David Sumner as impotent professor and makes his transition frighteningly believable. Susan George is quite good as Amy, the confused, repressed young girl who married a guy who isn't right for her. The supporting cast is adequate, with T.P. McKenna and Del Henney giving the strongest performances as the well-meaning but ineffectual Sheriff and the most sympathetic of David and Amy's tormentors.

Straw Dogs is a powerful, disturbing mediation on violence, with a power and force that few films a possess. It is a true masterpiece.

Rating: 10/10 - Must-See

Solemn High Mass at Our Lady of Consolation & St Francis

Today I drove Fr Ray Blake over to Our Lady of Consolation & St Francis in West Grinstead, for a very beautiful Solemn High Mass. Fr Matthew Goddard, recently ordained said Mass in the Extraordinary Form in a packed parish, with Fr Sean Finnegan as Deacon and Fr Seamus [forget the surname!] as Sub-Deacon. It is a Church etched into Catholic English History as a hiding place for priests and religious who arrived in Shoreham, during the Reformation under Henry VIII, when Catholicism went underground. How very apt it is that this should be a parish where the Latin Mass is being embraced so ardently, a place where Tyburn martyrs spent possibly some of their last days of freedom. It is also a shrine and site of pilgrimage.

I received a blessing from Fr Matthew, which I was told has some purgatorial escape potential for a grateful soul, which was given in Latin. I was even given the privilege of jumping the queue because of an urgent transportational need, and met, briefly the architect who hopes to restore St Mary Magdalen's to former glory!



Should I ever become a wealthy person by some Miracle of God, then I hope to be able to help out on that front. Anyway, I digress...

Hopefully I shall learn more about the Goddard family soon enough. It's the stuff of Catholic legend! It appears that they are quite a remarkable family! Fr David Goddard, Fr Matthew's father, was an Anglican minister. Fr Matthew converted to Catholicism at the age of 15 and his explanation of his conversion to the Faith and his love and faith in Christ and Holy Mother Church won over not just his father, but the entire family to the Catholic Faith! What is more, they are all in love with the Latin Mass and firmly rooted in Holy Tradition. How remarkable and splendid!



This is them...or at the very least two of them, Fr Matthew on the far left, Fr David in the middle.

The Mass liturgy was breathtaking and Our Lady of Consolation hired a choir who sang both chant and polyphony. The music was so rich and prayerful. The Mass was in honour of Our Lady. I think I saw someone film it. If so I will post a video link if or when it becomes available. I must say there is something very special going on in Sussex, with the Latin Mass and liturgical renewal. Hopefully, it will spread like that some fast-spreading herbacious perennial all across the country at a rate of knots. We can but pray that the Benedictine project, the liturgical renewal of Holy Mother Church and the embracing of Holy Tradition will become a nationwide, or perhaps worldwide movement as popular as say, the hippy movement of the 1960s.



Whether you're a traddie or not, you have to admit that is a sweet song! Hopefully the new 'people in motion' affecting a 'whole generation' will have Christ coursing through their veins, rather than a truck load of hallucinogenic drugs...

The SS Strike Again!

Presumably, another gay couple put in an adoption request with social services...

Courtesy of Daily Mail

A mother had her twin babies taken from her by social workers after she joked that their caesarean birth had ruined her body. She and her husband endured five rounds of IVF costing £38,000 to start a family, only to have social services take their children within weeks.

The parents insist social workers acted needlessly, but have been warned their six-month-old boy and girl could be put up for adoption following a secret Family Court hearing last week. The babies, who were born six weeks prematurely, were taken into care after hospital staff warned that the first-time parents were struggling to care for them.

Nurses reported that the mother appeared to feel ' bitter' towards her children after her joke about the caesarean's effect on her body. And when the desperate woman lost her temper at social workers who had taken her babies, officials said she had 'anger problems' and could pose a threat to her twins.

Full article click here.

The 'C' Word

Chastity, that is. It's the new taboo.

Not terribly interesting yet still quite interesting piece in The Guardian by someone who for a year decided to go chaste. The comments are a bit on the harsh side.

Click here for more. It appears in the 'Life and Style' section of their website. Bemusingly, the abortion debate always appears in the 'Life and Style' section of The Guardian website. I don't know. I understand abortion is an issue of 'Life', but quite what it has to do with 'Style' I have no idea.

The main thrust, ahem, of the article appears to be that the lady concerned was fed up with getting plenty of sex but no love, so gave it up for a year to see what would happen. The main result appears to be that in her self she was happier. What is also interesting is the opposition she got from friends about her choice. It is almost as if people find people practising chastity, for whatever reason, very threatening.

August

'Increasingly, my vow has been prompting concern. "Nearly there. Thank heavens - I've been worried about you!" a girlfriend fretted the other day. Everyone agrees that I must be longing for it to be over, and in some ways I am. I have craved sex, but the longer I hold out, the more I want it only in the right circumstances. I almost wish I had longer to go. My vow has become less of a nun's habit than a child's security blanket. It's something to cling to - a reason to say no.

During the course of this year, I have become attuned to other needs: the longing for true intimacy, the desire for a connection capable of enduring across distance and time. I have also let myself go. I've left my legs unwaxed and I haven't bothered to shave my armpits, and beneath it all, my relationship to my body has subtly changed - it feels more my own. In a strange way, it also feels, well, sexier. Possibly for the first time ever, I've no use for the validation of a stranger's appraising gaze. These triumphs make me all the warier of my vow's imminent expiration.'

The Ottaviani Intervention

I was just looking at the Fisheaters website and came across this fascinating letter from a prominent Cardinal Ottaviani to Pope Paul VI, which appears to be a prophetic warning on the content of the Novus Ordu.

Letter from Cardinals Ottaviani and Bacci to His Holiness Pope Paul VI
September 25th, 1969

Most Holy Father, Having carefully examined, and presented for the scrutiny of others, the Novus Ordo Missae prepared by the experts of the Consilium ad exequendam Constitutionem de Sacra Liturgia, and after lengthy prayer and reflection, we feel it to be our bounden duty in the sight of God and towards Your Holiness, to put before you the following considerations:

1. The accompanying critical study of the Novus Ordo Missae, the work of a group of theologians, liturgists and pastors of souls, shows quite clearly in spite of its brevity that if we consider the innovations implied or taken for granted which may of course be evaluated in different ways, the Novus Ordo represents, both as a whole and in its details, a striking departure from the Catholic theology of the Mass as it was formulated in Session XXII of the Council of Trent. The "canons" of the rite definitively fixed at that time provided an insurmountable barrier to any heresy directed against the integrity of the Mystery.

2. The pastoral reasons adduced to support such a grave break with tradition, even if such reasons could be regarded as holding good in the face of doctrinal considerations, do not seem to us sufficient. The innovations in the Novus Ordo and the fact that all that is of perennial value finds only a minor place, if it subsists at all, could well turn into a certainty the suspicions already prevalent, alas, in many circles, that truths which have always been believed by the Christian people, can be changed or ignored without infidelity to that sacred deposit of doctrine to which the Catholic faith is bound for ever. Recent reforms have amply demonstrated that fresh changes in the liturgy could lead to nothing but complete bewilderment on the part of the faithful who are already showing signs of restiveness and of an indubitable lessening of faith.

Amongst the best of the clergy the practical result is an agonising crisis of conscience of which innumerable instances come to our notice daily.

3. We are certain that these considerations, which can only reach Your Holiness by the living voice of both shepherds and flock, cannot but find an echo in Your paternal heart, always so profoundly solicitous for the spiritual needs of the children of the Church. It has always been the case that when a law meant for the good of subjects proves to be on the contrary harmful, those subjects have the right, nay the duty of asking with filial trust for the abrogation of that law.

Therefore we most earnestly beseech Your Holiness, at a time of such painful divisions and ever-increasing perils for the purity of the Faith and the unity of the church, lamented by You our common Father, not to deprive us of the possibility of continuing to have recourse to the fruitful integrity of that Missale Romanum of St. Pius V, so highly praised by Your Holiness and so deeply loved and venerated by the whole Catholic world.

A. Card. Ottaviani
A. Card. Bacci

For more on the fascinating exegesis on the outcomes of the Second Vatican Council click here.

Pope Benedict Explains St John Vianney's 'Virtuous Circle' Secret

Benedict XVI is urging priests to not become resigned to empty confessionals, but to help people rediscover the beauty of the sacrament by deepening their understanding of the Eucharist. The Pope stated this in a letter to the priests of the world, on the occasion of the Year for Priests, which begins Friday in celebration of the 150th anniversary of the death of St. John Mary Vianney, the Curé d'Ars.

The saint "taught his parishioners primarily by the witness of his life," the Pontiff affirmed. "It was from his example that they learned to pray, halting frequently before the tabernacle for a visit to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament." He taught them about the Eucharist, but it was "most effective when they saw him celebrate the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass," the Holy Father said.

He added that the saint "was convinced that the fervor of a priest's life depended entirely upon the Mass" and "was accustomed, when celebrating, also to offer his own life in sacrifice." This identification with the sacrifice of the Cross led him from the altar to the confessional, Benedict XVI affirmed.

He continued: "Priests ought never to be resigned to empty confessionals or the apparent indifference of the faithful to this sacrament. In France, at the time of the Cure of Ars, confession was no more easy or frequent than in our own day, since the upheaval caused by the revolution had long inhibited the practice of religion.

"Yet he sought in every way, by his preaching and his powers of persuasion, to help his parishioners to rediscover the meaning and beauty of the Sacrament of Penance, presenting it as an inherent demand of the Eucharistic presence. He thus created a 'virtuous' circle."

The Pope explained that St. John Mary spent long hours in church before the tabernacle, inspiring the faithful "to imitate him by coming to visit Jesus with the knowledge that their parish priest would be there, ready to listen and offer forgiveness." Over time, he said, penitents started coming from all over the country, and the priest would be in the confessional for up to 16 hours a day.

Thus, the Pontiff said, his parish became known as "a great hospital of souls." He quoted the saint who said: "It is not the sinner who returns to God to beg his forgiveness, but God himself who runs after the sinner and makes him return to him."

The Holy Father urged priests to learn from St. John Mary Vianney to "put our unfailing trust in the Sacrament of Penance, to set it once more at the center of our pastoral concerns, and to take up the 'dialogue of salvation,' which it entails."

He noted that "those who came to his confessional drawn by a deep and humble longing for God's forgiveness found in him the encouragement to plunge into the 'flood of divine mercy' which sweeps everything away by its vehemence. He awakened repentance in the hearts of the lukewarm by forcing them to see God's own pain at their sins reflected in the face of the priest who was their confessor," Benedict XVI stated.

He continued, "To those who, on the other hand, came to him already desirous of and suited to a deeper spiritual life, he flung open the abyss of God's love, explaining the untold beauty of living in union with him and dwelling in his presence."

The Pope affirmed: "In his time the Cure of Ars was able to transform the hearts and the lives of so many people because he enabled them to experience the Lord's merciful love. Our own time urgently needs a similar proclamation and witness to the truth of love."

He affirmed that the saint "sought to remain completely faithful to his own vocation and mission," lamenting that "a pastor can grow dangerously inured to the state of sin or of indifference in which so many of his flock are living."

The Pontiff noted the priest's sacrifices on behalf of the souls who came to him in confession, quoting his words to another confrere: "I will tell you my recipe: I give sinners a small penance and the rest I do in their place."

"Souls have been won at the price of Jesus' own blood," the Holy Father stated, "and a priest cannot devote himself to their salvation if he refuses to share personally in the 'precious cost' of redemption."

Campaign for Day of Discrimination

Join my Campaign for a UN International Day of Overt, Shameless and Blatant, Discrimination! For just one day people of all different creeds and colours, religions, sexualities, abilities and social nuances should have the opportunity to say, 'No', to whomever they please, on whatever basis they choose.

It is time to put aside our political correctness for just one day a year, in which we can say 'Yes!' to whomever we please, at our own liking, and 'No!' to whomever we please. Church community centres will be able to say to gaggle of cackling witches, who want to hire the hall, "No, I do not think that your group is entirely suitable for this space, please try somewhere else."

It would also mean that gay clubs would be able to say, to the straight couple who have an unnerving passion for Abba, Kylie and the Village People, "No, we can't stand seeing straights canoodle all evening, sorry, gays only. That kind of stuff you get up to is sick and unnatural and, like, so 1950s. Get with the programme, darlings!"

And yes, it means that for just one night only, the local Freemasons lodge can say, 'No', to whoever they please, on any basis they choose when locals try to enter to find out what the rituals are that actually go on at those places...They can even say, 'No' to black people and women if they want! That's right, for just one night only!

Also, for just one night only, bouncers at clubs will be able to say, 'No' to people who are homeless or vagrant on the doors of classy establishments and say, "Sorry, for just one night only we are saying 'No' to the homeless. You look rough and people might feel intimidated, so why not look elsewhere? There's a soup run down the road, try there."

For just one day, and one day a year, women who didn't want a child for a myriad reasons could say to their unborn child, "No! The time is really not good for me. I have plans to travel and a career to think of and, besides, you've probably got an abnormality anyway, so no, you cannot live."

Landlords at pubs will be able to say, 'No' and to discriminate against the smoking community and upon seeing someone try to get in with a cigarette, will be able to say, "Excuse me, but we're a non-smoking establishment because we're all health freaks consumed with nothing but our personal well-being. Behold, the temples of our bodies. Please leave your cigarette at the door else you can't come in."

It means that for just one day only, the local council, when employing someone will have their 'Equal Opportunities' forms on their desks when choosing a new recruit for a secretarial position, and, upon realising they haven't employed a disabled, asian, transgendered, ladyboy in the past few months will be able to say, 'No!' to the other non-disabled, non-asian, non-transgendered, woman for no other reason than to fill a 4.5% quota!

For just one day, doctors, nurses, and all health professionals who disagree with abortion, refuse to go against their sacred conscience and refuse to take part in it would be told by their employers, "No! If I were you, if I wanted to keep your job in this profession I would go along with the system and perform the abortions, otherwise your career is distinctly at risk."

For just one day, that's right, just one day, an air hostess who wears a crucifix will be able to be told, in no uncertain terms, "No! You cannot wear a crucifix publicly because it might offend someone on the plane who breaks into a sweat at the sight of Christ upon the Cross!"

And yes, just for one day, let's break out of the chains of political correctness and allow the Police and Community Police to say to the beggar with a can of lager in his hand, "No! You cannot drink that here because its a bye-law which forbids public drinking on every day of the year apart from Gay Pride day, because God knows, we can't offend the gays! But you don't look important so you are different. Come on, hand the drink over and I'll pour it away in front of your face."

And what is more, for just one day, men, women and entire families seeking asylum in the UK from war-torn countries, political and religious persecution, genocide and unjust imprisonment, could be told by the Home Office, "No! We understand that sending you back to your country of origin may result in your torturous death at the hands of extremists, but for just one day a year, we don't care! So sling your hook while we allow a coach of east-europeans to come in while you're crapping yourself for fear at the airport!"

It means that just for one day, an adoption agency, faced with the terrifying challenge of placing a young Christian boy in a loving home, will be able to say "No!" to the Christian, heterosexual couples who are on their register, and place him with an active gay couple instead, in order to fulfil that all important 4.5% quota! That's right! Just for one day!

That's right, discrimination for one day only! Oh what joy would that day bring! Yes, we'd all see on that day that we are all equal and all the same, wouldn't we?! Yes! We would see on that UN International Day of Overt, Shameless and Blatant Discrimination, just how far we have come as a society and that we have created a utopia in which nobody suffers discrimination at all...

You Don't Have to Look Like This to Be a Witch...

But it probably helps!

The Telegraph has reported that...

A coven of witches is accusing the Roman Catholic church of religious persecution after being banned from using a parish social centre for a Halloween gathering [Why that's All Hallow's Eve, surely?]. Sandra Davis, the "high priestess" of Crystal Cauldron [Let's see now. How many cliches can we fit into the title of just one witch coven?] group in Stockport, Greater Manchester, said she was shocked to be told that the pagan group was not considered to be compatible with the church's "ethos" [How shocking!].

Mrs Davis, 61, booked Our Lady's Social Club in Shaw Heath, Stockport, for the group's annual "Witches Ball" due to be held in October. She hoped to attract up to 150 people to the social evening offering a buffet dinner and music from an Abba tribute band and selected the hall because it had disabled access.

But when she went to pay for the booking she was told by the manager that the Diocese of Shrewsbury, which owns the centre, had refused permission for the group to use it.

"It makes you think that there is still a little bit of that attitude from the past of the Catholics wanting to burn witches," she said. "I thought we had made progress, that we could accept other people's religious paths." [Hmm...Yes, it is one thing renouncing the burning at the stake of witches. I suppose that if you really want to worship Satan, who are we to argue with you?! It is quite another to say, "Hey, you witches! Fancy practicing the occult with 150 other witches?! We're the Catholic Church! Come hire our hall space!"]

We've got Mrs Davis, who has 11 grandchildren, gave up her former job in a forklift truck company to set up the Crystal Cauldron, where she is known as "Amethyst Selmeselene" [Good grief!]. Based in a former post office, the 30-strong group runs a new age bookshop and sells cloaks, jewellery and medieval costumes on the internet as well as organising a children's group called "Little Crystals". [Uh-huh, New Age - Check! Ludicrous but in all likelihood slightly nefarious occult practices - Check! Handing all the sorcery nonsense down to the children - Check! Yep, enough here to be slightly wary of hiring the space to you guys!]

It also supports a local cat sanctuary [Black cats only!? Discrimination!] as its designated charity. Mrs Davis has since secured a new venue for the ball which she hopes will become an annual fixture in the town. "It is a full family thing and it is a posh do too," she said. "It is evening dress or fancy dress, last year most of us went in medieval costumes."

The Reverend John Joyce, a spokesman for the Roman Catholic Diocese of Shrewsbury, said that it was out of the question for a pagan group to use its facilities. "Parish centres under our auspices let their premises on the understanding users and their organisations are compatible with the ethos and teachings of the Catholic church," he said. "In this instance, we aren't satisfied such requirements are met."

[Well quite! The only problem, I guess, is that the court, should it come to that, will doubtless force the Diocese into submission on this one. The only sensible thing for the coven to do is to shrug their shoulders and say, "Oh well. Let's try a non-Catholic Church community hall, because let's face it there are tons in this town! Oh sod it, on second thoughts, let's go to the press and kick up a right witches brew of a fuss about it!"]

For those who are in any doubt as to the reason why such an event was rightly deemed unsuitable here is the Catechism of the Catholic Church on...

Divination and magic

2115 God can reveal the future to his prophets or to other saints. Still, a sound Christian attitude consists in putting oneself confidently into the hands of Providence for whatever concerns the future, and giving up all unhealthy curiosity about it. Improvidence, however, can constitute a lack of responsibility.

2116 All forms of divination are to be rejected: recourse to Satan or demons, conjuring up the dead or other practices falsely supposed to "unveil" the future.⁴⁸ Consulting horoscopes, astrology, palm reading, interpretation of omens and lots, the phenomena of clairvoyance, and recourse to mediums all conceal a desire for power over time, history, and, in the last analysis, other human beings, as well as a wish to conciliate hidden powers. They contradict the honor, respect, and loving fear that we owe to God alone.

2117 All practices of magic or sorcery, by which one attempts to tame occult powers, so as to place them at one's service and have a supernatural power over others - even if this were for the sake of restoring their health - are gravely contrary to the virtue of religion. These practices are even more to be condemned when accompanied by the intention of harming someone, or when they have recourse to the intervention of demons. Wearing charms is also reprehensible. Spiritism often implies divination or magical practices; the Church for her part warns the faithful against it. Recourse to so-called traditional cures does not justify either the invocation of evil powers or the exploitation of another's credulity.

Go Ahead and Hate Your Neighbor: The Billy Jack Saga

Because I determined there was too much joy and happiness in my life, I gave a rewatch (yes, a rewatch) to the third installment in Tom Laughlin's Billy Jack saga, the untouchably bad The Trial of Billy Jack. Never has a film so personified excrement. You can take your Leprechauns and Manos: the Hands of Fate and Batman and Robin, this is the worst movie ever.

Rather than review each film in-depth, or rewatch them all (God no!), I'll provide a brief overview of the Billy Jack saga. For an insightful review of these films, I recommend Jabootu's brilliant albeit ludicrously in-depth analysis here. Otherwise, here is a fairly succinct overview of the adventures of that half-breed (yeah, right) ex-Green Beret-turned-fighter for Indian justice we all loathed in the Seventies and shake our heads at in disbelief now.*

Born Losers (1967)

Born Losers (1967) is a pretty typical no-budget 1960's AIP exploitation flick. It's a product of James Nicholson and Samuel Zarkoff's infamous schlock factory, which started out with Z-Movie horror schlockfests (It Conquered the World and other assorted MST3K fodder), then moved on to the Annette Funicello/Frankie Avalon Beach Party films, and biker flicks like Hell's Angels, all starring up-and-coming actors like Jack Nicholson, Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda. If AIP can be credited with anything, it's tapping into the heretofore ignored teen market. This piece of drek came at the tail-end of the late '60s biker craze, starring struggling actor-turned-director Tom Laughlin.

Billy Jack, if anything, is a secondary character here, spending much of the running time trying to mortgage his land and truck with a crooked bank. The real focus is a series of rapes and other crimes committed by a sleazy biker gang led by Danny (Jeremy Slate) in a small town; the nominal protagonist is Vicky (Elizabeth James), a spoiled little brat largely ignored by her rich parents and yearns for excitement. She finds it alright, and when the cops prove unable to stop Danny's thugs, Billy Jack has to step in do what's right.

The movie has little to connect it to subsequent installments, although Billy's scrapes with the indifferent and crooked law and occasional "bad ass" moments (my favorite: Billy roughs up a biker, douses him with gas and threatens to set him ablaze), not to mention a complete lack of resemblance to a Native American are already well-established. The movie is mostly memorable for its disgusting misogyny: most of the rape victims either enjoy the rapes inflicted on them or are simply traumatized, with Billy basically saying that the parents deserve to have their kids raped by the bikers. Real class act, Laughlin.

Born Losers is just trashy biker exploitation, not without its moments of camp silliness, but with little to recommend it. Don't worry though, soon enough we'll be in camp classic territory.

Rating: 2/10

Billy Jack (1971)

With the success of Born Losers, Laughlin financed the sequel largely out of his own pocket. Here he blends his butt-kicking loner character with lots of loopy left-wing politics and digressive nonsense. The film is undeniably dreck, but it's so full of ridiculous, head-scratching scenes that it's an unparalleled kitsch classic. If nothing else, it's fun to tear into a la MST3K, or to just sit back and enjoy the madness.

Here we meet the characters we'll be stuck with for the rest of the franchise. The Freedom School, a glorified hippie commune somewhere in the Southwest led by Jean (Laughlin's real-life spouse Delores Taylor), teaches kids to "do their own thing" and express themselves. The local townspeople don't like it none, especially land boss Mr. Posner (David Roya) and racist deputy Mike (Kenneth Tobey), whose daughter (Julie Webb) ran away to the Freedom School. There are inevitable clashes between the school and the powers-that-be, as well as much racism directed at the local Navajo Indians, forcing Billy to take a stand.

From the first frame, with Coven's infamous One Tin Soldier ("Go ahead and hate your neighbor! Go ahead and cheat a friend!") blaring on the soundtrack as a gang of rustlers attempts to round up wild stallions, you know what kind of film this is. Laughlin comes across like a lousy, albeit martial arts-knowledgable Clint Eastwood clone, but his complete lack of talent makes Clint look like Marlon Brando. The politics are hamfisted to the extreme, mixing an interesting view of government persecution of Native Americans (an interesting topic, to be sure) with incoherent ranting about the Kennedys, Civil Rights and Vietnam, uniformly atrocious dialogue and acting (obnoxious teen Barbara is hysterically funny), and endless digressive scenes of Freedom School students performing terrible songs. Then there's the lengthy guerilla theater segments led by Howard Hesseman, ranging from mildly amusing to unbearably obnoxious.

What really makes the film, however, is its dead seriousness. Everything (save the deliberate comic relief) is presented without a shred of irony or self-awareness, and it's clear Laughlin and Co. earnestly believe every word they say. The audience, however, need not share their sentiments. In fact, we may well find them ridiculous beyond belief.

Needless to say, audiences disaffected by the upheaval of the Sixties and the bitter fall-out of the Nixon Administration ate this film up, making it a huge box-office success. It came out at just the right time, and Laughlin made his name (and a bundle of cash) off it. Unfortunately, it also "entitled" us to two further sequels. The movie's biggest influence, however, is on the action genre. Billy's martial arts ass-whuppins provided the clear inspiration for Chuck Norris, Jean-Claude Van Damme, Dolph Lundgren, and most egregiously Steven Seagal, who even aped Laughlin's mystical pseudo-philosophy in several films.

Billy Jack, whatever its innumerable shortcomings, is a wonderful piece of '70s kitsch. It's easy to see how it's become a cult classic. (It's a bit frightening to contemplate how many people take it seriously, though.) This is the one to watch for camp fun, because we're about to delve into indescribable terror. You've been warned...

Rating: 5/10

The Trial of Billy Jack (1974)

Everything that was "fun" about Billy Jack goes down the crapper in The Trial of Billy Jack. The phenomenal success of Billy Jack removed even more of Laughlin's restraints, and Laughlin goes full bore with this insipid, asinine and tremendously insulting 171 minute "epic." It's full of ridiculous subplots that go nowhere but drag on forever, plus insane political ramblings. This film isn't just bad, it's the embodiment of shit - the standard by which the Troll 2s and Leprechaun in the Hoods of the world must be judged.

The horribly organized plot concerns the fall-out of the original film. Billy is imprisoned for killing a Deputy, and Jean builds up the Freedom School. The authorities find themselves threatened by the School's increased "power", as they broadcast their own TV network and publish a newspaper that "exposes" corrupt both local and national. There's also arguing about Indian land rights, racism, and a showdown with the National Guard. There are the usual Laughlin digressions, with lengthy set-pieces and musical numbers (but no Howard Hesseman, thankfully), all theoretically fitting under the umbrella of a general plot, but resulitng in a cornucopia of incoherence.

At 171 minutes long, the breezy camp fun of the previous two installments evaporates. All that's left is pretentious, painful bloat and neon-sign preaching. It seems Laughlin didn't feel a need to cut a single frame of film from the finished project. That would certainly explain the endless subplots and digressive set-pieces that go on and on without actually contributing to the story.

Billy's lengthy vision quest is the camp highlight. Painted red, he travels into a spirit-occupied cave, encounters demons masquerading as cobras ("No cobras in this country, my friend!"), bats that screech like alley cats, and an Indian spirit guide who makes him punch Jesus in the face (!). This scene lasts half an hour and has nothing to do with the rest of the film. Whatever lessons Billy learns about peace are eradicated minutes later when he kicks the holy Hell out of some rednecks. Ain't that always the way?

But this epochal silliness is overwhelmed by mountains of truly wretched and discursive material. Billy's trial (which lasts maybe ten minutes), the lengthy rescue of two Indians trapped on a mountain, the internicine conflict within the Freedom School about dealing with the authorities, and the abused, one-armed child taught to love and care by the Freedom School students are unbearablu obnoxious. In all, the movie has about sixty subplots and sidestories that only vaguely tie together. Trying to craft a film of epic complexity, Laughlin only creates the greatest muddle ever committed to celluoid.

Laughlin's propaganda is childishly blunt throughout. We see Vietnamese civilians huddled into a trench and shot en masse by soldiers (including the summary execution of a crying baby), in an extended flashback scene. In perhaps the worst scene in cinema history, a National Guardsman (William Wellman Jr.) reluctant to fire into a crowd of student protestors is forced to at gunpoint. Not surprisingly, his very first shot hits a one-armed crippled boy holding a bunny!!! Talk about deck-stacking: this is shooting the dealer and stealing his wallet.

One fluctuates between being offended and laughing hysterically. The attempts to tie the finale to real-life campus shootings like Kent State makes it even worse. The movie concludes with equally ludicrous scene where the Freedom School students sing Give Peace a Chance over and over and over for the better part of five minutes. By then, the viewer has long since tuned out, and is praying desperately for the end.

What more can be said, really? I cannot possibly do justice to how horribly obnoxious and terrible this movie is. You'd have to see it to believe it, but that's too high a price to pay for such knowledge.

Rating: -10/10 - Worst Film Ever

Billy Jack Goes to Washington (1977)

The fourth and final installment in the franchise only adds egregious insult to injury, and pisses on a Hollywood masterpiece in the bargain. Billy Jack Goes to Washington (1977) isn't even entertaining as camp. It's a dull-as-dirt political "thriller" that has a moderate budget and some decent actors, and still produces utter shit. Perhaps that's because Laughlin and Co. didn't make themselves scarce.

As the title indicates, this is a remake of the Frank Capra-James Stewart classic Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (Frank Capra Jr. even produces the damned thing!), only with an obnoxious post-Watergate bent. Billy is inexplicably appointed to fill a Senate seat; his predecessor was investigating corruption within America's nuclear program. Billy wants to build a national child's center instead, arguing that the site selected for the plant is unsafe due to fault lines (presumably it would be safe for the children then?). Of course, he finds corruption and indifference blocking his every step. If you've seen the Capra film, you know the story.

By the time of this film, Billy was already an anachronism. Jimmy Carter was President and the painful memories of Vietnam and Watergate were, if not forgotten, then largely put in the past. Oil embargoes and inflation were becoming more important than the corruption of a past administration. In this film, even more than its predecessors, Laughlin comes across as not only outlandish but actively insane, with evil omnipotent government conspiracies that make The X-Files look grounded in reality. Capra's film, granted, was cynical about American politics to a greater degree than he's given credit for, but never did it even approach the lunacy that Laughlin engages in.

But that's not even the worse part. The movie is pretty much a shot-by-shot remake of the Capra film, which makes it all the more painful. Laughlin shoe-horns in a ridiculous action scene (involving "CIA Agents" posing as street thugs) to placate his blood-thirsty audience, then surrounds it with endless political platitudes and simplistic civics lessons. Many are almost verbatim from the original film, such as Billy's inspirational trip to various Washington monuments and his desperate filibuster. The difference here is that James Stewart is being replaced by Tom Laughlin, who can't emote his way out of a paper-bag. The final scenes of him aping Stewart's "You think I'm licked!" speech on the Senate floor is pathetic beyond words. The difference, of course, is that the original film was made by very, very talented people; Tom Laughlin is about as talented as a second-year film student at a particularly bad community college.

The film wastes a respectable supporting cast. Peter Donat (The Godfather Part II) as a reporter, E.G. Marshall (Twelve Angry Men) in the Claude Rains role, Luci Arnaz (yes, the daughter of Lucy and Desi) as the dedicated Secretary Saunders and Pat O'Brien as another Senator are among those lashing their talent to this sinking ship of shit. The movie ends on a reprise of One Tin Soldier, just so you know this really was a Billy Jack movie, despite all the evidence to the contrary. Thankfully, Mr. Laughlin hasn't been able to film his planned fifth installment, for which we can all be eternally grateful.

And that's that. Even if you somehow like the other Billy Jack installments, do not EVER watch this one. If you do, that's your own damned fault.

Rating: 1/10

I hope this experience has been enlightening for you all. I watch these movies so you don't have to, and to let you know that cinema can be worse than you thought possible. Next time your buddy says that the latest big-budget piece of crap (Transformers 2?) is the worst film ever, just shake your head and tell them you know better...

* - I wasn't alive in the '70s, myself, but I don't see how that's relevant.