Oh my poor, aching mind!!!!!! What made me think I would benefit from tuning into this chaos????????????
I lasted about 1.5 hours, thanks only to my nifty deck of playing cards, and my nimble, anxiety-diverting, solitaire-playing hands.
And now, to completely catharticize my assaulted nervous system, I must type.
I have a cat. I can pet him, feed him, groom him, play with him. But reason with him, I cannot. Teach him, I cannot. Persuade him, I cannot. And this because he and I belong to completely different orders of created reality. I belong to the rational order, and he belongs to the sensitive order.
Just so with atheist oafs. By their grievous sins they have become like senseless beasts
, and are degraded to the degree of participating only the sensitive order. Their affected rationality is pseudo-rationality, like when fakers make a chimp look like he's calculating sums. These blaspheming, mocking, inane baboons are sub-human. Hugh and Mark are literally casting precious pearls to possessed swine. Their "opponents" cannot even begin to make the distinctions indispensably necessary to carry on a conversation at this level. They cannot distinguish between orders of reality (natural/supernatural; objective/subjective; potency/act). They cannot understand, let alone apply the principles of reason/knowledge. They are entirely ignorant of the two sources of human knowledge. They cannot even begin to comprehend the real hierarchies of being, of knowledge, of the sciences, and of authority. They are incapable of thinking taxonomically. One of them was smugly throwing out accusations of logical fallacies, as if he were an adept at thinking, and not a trained orangutan.
These filthy atheists are exactly like the vermin described by St. Jude: Ungodly men, turning the grace of our Lord God into riotousness, and denying the only sovereign Ruler, and our Lord Jesus Christ; defiling the flesh, despising dominion, blaspheming majesty. They blaspheme whatever things they know not: and what things soever they naturally know, like dumb beasts, in these they are corrupted. They have gone in the way of Cain: and after the error of Balaam they have for reward poured out themselves, and have perished in the contradiction of Core. These are spots in their banquets, feasting together without fear, feeding themselves, clouds without water, which are carried about by winds, trees of the autumn, unfruitful, twice dead, plucked up by the roots; raging waves of the sea, foaming out their own confusion; wandering stars, to whom the storm of darkness is reserved for ever.
If one person listening to this chaotic noise is touched by Hugh, then his own suffering in bearing with these animals will have borne fruit. May God grant it!
As for me, do they still make Brioschi?