Apparently, he had at least one more marble....

.... to lose. (This may become a weekly feature here.)

The author of GIA's "Table Talk" continues his descent into dotage.

Now he is waxing wrothful at those Catholics who have the unmitigated gall to proclaim and promote "Catholic Identity."

Among his proofs of the wrong-headedness of clinging to said identity is the use of the word "Catholic" in what he himself calls "an extensive article" a seemingly excessive 31 times.

Oddly, in a very short essay, (surely much shorter than even half of the offending article, since the article was long enough to be called "extensive" ?) the Table Talker feels compelled to use the word "Catholic" 16 times, but the irony of this probably escapes him.

Anyway, he is dead set against the idea that to call oneself a Catholic should mean anything, or at least anything much.

And there's pearl of wisdom, generated by a young person attending a Dog & Pony show of 1/2 of the H & H IceCreamTeam (the man who doesn't know that God should be the focus of Liturgy and is foolish enough to say so in print, but clever enough to find a publisher foolish enough to provide him with a platform for his ignorance,) that almost brings tears to the old man's eyes because it so perfectly captures for him "what it means to be Catholic. "

It is.... wait for it, wait for it.... to have good music and to live for others.

Heavens to Murgatroyd! We're the Salvation Army!

Not that there's anything wrong with the Salvation Army...

I'm glad actually, because they have the second best uniforms, after Catholics. (Or rather, after the people I in my lack of wisdom thought were Catholics. I heart a biretta worn at a rakish angle. )

Apparently, to be Catholic means not much more, not even much different than being Jewish (great cantors, ever hear of Jan Peerce?strong network of social services,) Wiccan (they are some of the nicest people, and gotta love that soulful Celtic harp,) or Quakers (devoted to being good to other people, and there aren't many tunes better than Simple Gifts.)

Anyway, if that poor, old man thinks expecting someone not to try to trade on his religious identity to get votes while he protects and even promotes an activity that that religiou names for what it is, the objectively mortal sin of murder; or allowing legitimate liturgical diversity while insisting on the need for reverence and solemnity in all liturgies; or watching a television station that espouses positions that happen to be in tune with the Holy Father; or demanding that when one supports a school financially, or entrusts ones children to it, that it be honest about its educational aims*; makes ones Catholic cred questionable, while singing happy tunes and being nice makes one a paragon of the Faith, maybe he "should look real hard at what being Catholic is. "

And he might try looking somewhere besides his own navel.

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* For instance, if I dropped Mimsy off at the Broderick Crawford School of Ballet, I would be more than perturbed when I picked my darling up to find that her fees had actually paid for an afternoon of paintball.
Nothing wrong with paintball, you understand, but truth in advertizing, and all that, and I'd have had my expectation, what with the 20 ft. high flashing neon sign with the letters B-A-L-L-E-T and all...

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n.b. In an essay slightly longer than Mr Moleck's piece, I have used the word "Catholic" several times, (that one doesn't count!) I must admit, but fewer than did he.