In recent months, years of digging into my manifold activities in several countries on the part of a number of noted scholars --- Catholic and non-Catholic alike --- has begun to reveal the full depths of my iniquity. The eminence of the gentlemen concerned leaves little room for doubt. In the forefront of this important work, three names stand out: Dr. Thomas Droleskey, Mr. Craig Heimbichner, and Mr. Michael Hoffman II.

Dr. Droleskey, a noted writer and speaker on Catholic social teaching, boasts a doctorate in political science (a major I myself pursued, as it left me a great deal of time for drinking and other such-like collegiate pursuits), and is president of the nascent Christ the King College, an institution which, while as yet unaccredited and confined to the internet, proposes to offer a university-level Catholic education in four years and at prices comparable to incarnate institutions; as of this writing, its current endowment totals almost a thousand dollars. Mr. Heimbichner is a former public high school principal and is said --- as a result of past involvements --- to be very learned in both Freemasonry and the teachings of celebrated black magician Aleister Crowley. On the basis of the latter expertise, about five years ago he circulated --- widely, if privately --- an analysis of some of my work, showing its Crowleyite inspiration. The sheer power of Crowley’s work is indicated by the fact that I have actually read only a couple of poems of his (horrid as they were). But I bow to the knowledge of one much deeper steeped in these things than I.

A. Crowley

But it is to Mr. Hoffman that the bulk of the credit must go for revealing the truth about my activities. A famed revisionist historian, he not only denies the historicity of the holocaust, but in the comic book Tales of the Holohoax reveals that the Old Testament is a book of Jewish fables intended to enslave gentiles. So perspicacious is he that --- to my knowledge --- he is the only critic to have pointed out that Mel Gibson’s movie The Passion of the Christ is in reality a piece of pro-Jewish propaganda. A disciple of environmentalist Edward Abbey, he is also author of, among other things, A Candidate for the Order. This heartwarming novel is the tale of a poor white man who realizes that his true destiny is to fight for his own ethnicity in the coming race war in America. As an advertiser in the late Gnosis magazine, he first became aware of my nefarious activities by reading an article of mine in that journal.

This eminent trio has done yeoman service in alerting the public to the gravity of my misdeeds. Given their tremendous education and knowledge, many traditional Catholics have accepted what they have written about me at face value, not needing, in the face of the group’s self-evident qualifications, to enquire further as to their own veracity. In view of this, and in the spirit of Diana Vaughan, I must come clean.

But first, I must point out that the Hoffman-Heimbichner-Droleskey troika are not the only ones to stumble across my trail. It often happens that scholars, working in different fields, come across the same data. So too, here. An article appeared in the April 19, 2002 issue of Executive Intelligence Review, available in its entirety at (http://www.larouchepub.com/other/2002/2915nghbrs_kttns.html). Subtitled “‘Catholic’ Schools Plot Exposed,” the piece bore the revealing title “Who Is Snuffing Your Neighbor's Kittens?,” and will repay careful study by those who really want to know what’s going on.

Its opening paragraph reads “A ‘Carlist’-fascist nest in certain Northern Virginia schools, churches and security agencies, targets Lyndon LaRouche's movement and Pope John Paul II's ecumenical mission; and promotes the Brzezinski-Huntington ‘Clash of Civilizations.’” The reader is then assured that the author, William F. Wertz, Jr., was “report[ing] on an ongoing EIR investigation.”

Lyndon Larouche has a wide reputation in the political sphere. Skeptics may claim that he simply tosses groups, people, places, and things together, employing guilt by association and an hysterical recitation of obscure facts and demi-facts to prove anything he wishes to. But reading this article cured me of this misapprehension, if ever indeed I had it. For after naming in their turn virtually everyone I have ever known in the Traditional Catholic movement (such as it is), he revealed that he had found me out:

[Solange]Hertz's books are published by Veritas Press in Santa Monica, California and Little Jon Publications in Los Angeles. The latter also produces The New Triumph, whose editor is Gary Potter. In 1966, Potter was the assistant editor of the original Triumph magazine. One of the three contributors to The New Triumph is Charles A. Coulombe, West Coast chairman of the London-based "Monarchist League." But monarchist Coulombe and the administrator of The New Triumph, Stephen Frankini, are also members of Mythcon, which advocates the writings of J.R.R. Tolkien and other fantasy New Age writings. This is not out of character with the original Triumph magazine, which published a number of articles favorable to Tolkien.

LaRouche knew! Between that revelation and those of the afore-mentioned trio I realized at last that deception would no longer do. Hence this confession.

I suppose that I was fated to join the vast occult conspiracy. The story really begins with my maternal grandfather. Journalist, writer, economist, and academic, he was a disturbing and shadowy figure. Although his left-wing leanings are obvious from the fact that he wrote for America and Commonweal back in the ‘30s, he attempted to conceal them by breaking with the latter publication over their lack of support for Franco during the Spanish Civil War (as we will see, Franco keeps cropping up in this convoluted tale). An acquaintance of both William Randolph Hearst and Ed Sullivan, he was also an outspoken critic of Franklin Delano Roosevelt, a member of the America First Committee, and a friend of Colonel Charles Lindbergh. For those who know what they are looking for, this paragraph will speak volumes. He also taught economics at both Harvard and Columbia, underlining his relationship with the North-Eastern establishment. Even so, he was well-known at such left-wing “artistic” hangouts as Chumley’s and Keen’s, both in New York City. It can come as no surprise that I too am well known in those “legendary” watering holes.

His youngest daughter, my mother, married my father in accordance with family custom. My father was a third-generation French-Canadian, born in Massachusetts (to the discerning, links with Jack Kerouac, and through him to the whole “Beat Movement” will be apparent). Although he and his family were also virulently America First, he joined the United States Army Air Corps on his 18th birthday in 1944. Despite this obvious subterfuge, he was highly decorated during his stint as a tail-gunner in the Pacific Theatre (do you see the correlation with “Tail-Gunner Joe” McCarthy?).

After the War ended, he migrated to New York City, studying at the American Academy of Dramatic Arts (alongside noted leftists George C. Scott, Don Rickles, and Jack Klugman). Not surprisingly, he became an habitué of “Bohemian” circles, and drifted into radio acting. There he met my mother.

Although my defenders would hasten to point out that he was responsible for my being raised a Catholic, for preferring the Tridentine Mass to the Novus Ordo, and for inculcating in me a love of Church history, to those more knowledgeable, he presents a truly frightening picture. He was a strong proponent of civil rights for African-Americans…er..negroes, going so far as to acquire an encyclopedic knowledge of their history in America. Despite his dislike of Martin Luther King, Jr., he was, about a year before his death in 1996, made the only white member of the Sammy Davis, Jr. Post of the American Legion in Los Angeles. Nor were his interests confined to the blacks --- any minority, be they Mexicans, Chinese, Japanese, or whatever, earned his study. He was a perfect example of what Willlis Carto, in his introduction to Francis Yockey’s Imperium, denounces as the Catholic Church’s “racial universalism.”

But the list of his iniquities does not end here. He encouraged my interest in comparative religions, going so far as to show me how to use the public library. He introduced me to French-Canadian folklore, with its weird tales of the Loup Garou, the feux follet, the lutin, and many more of the like. He had a great interest in ghosts and psychic phenomena, having had some very odd experiences himself. Moreover, he was interested in speculative archaeology, discussing with me such topics as Atlantis, and Colonel Churchward’s lost continent of Mu. He even talked about UFOs and Bigfoot.

But that was not the worst, not by a long shot. Because my father had an unfortunate tendency to know all sorts of people, whose only common bond appeared to be that he found them “interesting.” This is a sin he passed on to his sons.

Perhaps his greatest crime was his oft-repeated assertion that “Catholicism is a thinking man’s religion.” In pursuance of this false creed, he became one of the most fascinating people I have ever met, and inspired me to follow in his intellectual footsteps. Good Catholics know that only a few ideas and a little knowledge are permissible for those seeking holiness. Saints are never smart.

Most insidious of all, my father was a 4th degree Knight of Columbus. As any student of Freemasonry knows, the KofC are simply a Catholic front group, as proved by the annual banquet in New Haven, Connecticut on St. John’s Day (December 27) when the two groups take turns hosting each other.

Thus mentally and spiritually equipped, if that is the phrase, we came to Hollywood in 1966. There we settled in the house of Criswell, the noted television psychic. Here it was, I suppose, that I became a functioning member of the conspiracy, albeit, as yet, on a junior level. Criswell was universally regarded as a mere showman, rather than as the important functionary of darkness that he was. At his Sunday brunches, such luminaries as Tor Johnson, Edward D. Wood Jr., Vampira, and Jean Harlow’s understudy would congregate. There, unbeknownst to most of the world, important decisions regarding their future were made. Criswell’s predictions were simply indications of what the conspirators had ordered. Thus, when he “predicted” that London would be destroyed in 1988 by a meteor, or that Pittsburgh would turn cannibal, these supposed catastrophes were doubtless only averted by the relevant authorities making their tribute. Not surprisingly, Mae West was also a member of the Criswell Circle, often sending him pasta by limousine. His prediction that she would be elected President in 1960 was perhaps only averted by the fact that John F. Kennedy had worked for Joseph McCarthy. Even so, the Criswell Circle exercised power all out of proportion to their numbers or wealth.

It was at this time, that I came face to face with another wing of the conspiracy --- the Immaculate Heart Nuns, devotees of psychologist Carl Rogers. I have written of their attempts to make my life hell elsewhere, due to the opposition of my parents, brother, and myself to the dropping of their habits. But, as the informed will know, competing factions within the Conspiracy will often fight --- thus underlining their actual unity. Moreover, this fight was the beginning of my cognizance of James Francis Cardinal McIntyre --- another key player, as we will see.

In the meantime, Criswell continued his reign of terror. A regular on Johnny Carson, he inspired Carson’s character of “Carnak the Magnificent,” a clever medium through which Carson was able to spread Criswell’s occult message into thousands of unsuspecting American homes. Moreover, Criswell met and became friendly with Bob Dornan, then a television interviewer, and later a congressman. At the same time, Criswell’s wife, Halo, similarly ensnared Groucho Marx. Years later, this particular campaign would bear fruit. In 1989, Dornan, then a powerful congressman, was able to get the Congress to be addressed by Rafael Nze Abuy, Archbishop of Malabo, Equatorial Guinea. The U.S.-backed government, when the local Church refused to add the President’s name to the Sign of the Cross, outlawed Catholicism and prescribed the death penalty for priests. Abuy, himself a godson and appointee of General Francisco Franco (there he is again!), came to the U.S. After Dornan arranged the Archbishop’s address, Congress cut off funding, and the regime collapsed. I myself was an acquaintance of the Archbishop, helping him raise funds for his devastated country through the Equatorial Guinea Relief Committee. Me, Abuy, Dornan, Criswell, and me. Yet another example of the circular networks occult conspirators prize.

Criswell

But while Criswell continued to work his magic (and remained an inspiration to me --- you may read an account of the party I threw in his honor on the date he predicted the end of the world in the New Yorker online: http://www.conspire.com/cv/newyorker.html), we moved to the San Fernando Valley.

To be sure, the Valley has many unsavory qualities; for example, it is a leading center of the porn industry. But what helped complete my indoctrination was the presence of San Fernando Mission. This legend-haunted spot aroused my interest in Bl.. Junipero Serra. Serra was a disciple of the 13th century Kabalist, Alchemist, and Missionary, Bl. Raymond Lully. Not only did Serra teach Lullist philosophy at the University of Palma, but he modeled his Mission system after that proposed by Lully in the latter’s utopian novel, Blanquerna, and had himself buried with a relic of Lully’s. Moreover, Serra’s use of the Masonic symbol of the eye in the triangle, both on his vestments and over the altar at Mission San Miguel, shows a terrible truth. While my defenders may well claim that both Serra and Lully were orthodox, and that the eye in the triangle was originally a perfectly Catholic symbol of the Trinity (hence its use by Serra, as well as by Louis XIV in his chapels at Versailles and Les Invalides), those in the know will see the reality. From its very beginning, California was a Judaeo-Masonic plot. Thus it will come as no surprise that it has historically formed an important seat for conspirators, occultists, and the like.

The next step in my personal initiation came when I was a freshman at Daniel Murphy High School in 1974. By “accident,” I met then retired Archbishop of Los Angeles, James Francis Cardinal McIntyre. He became my confessor. The Cardinal came with a host of disturbing connections of his own. Not only had he received the Order of Isabella the Catholic (from Franco!), he was a friend of both Dorothy Day (of the so-called “Catholic” Worker), and liberal historian Will Durant (the knowledgeable will see the part the Cardinal played in Durant’s reconciliation to the Church as the subterfuge it must have been). Of course, given California’s occult origins, any Bishop here must be suspect, but McIntyre more than most.

Charles Berlitz and William L. Moore, in their book The Roswell Incident, reveal that the Cardinal was one of a very few (including Barry Goldwater and President Eisenhower) allowed to view the wreckage of the UFO that crashed in Roswell, New Mexico. This occurred at least once, during the week of April 12-16, 1954, at Edwards Air force Base. Thus the outsider is led to wonder what McIntyre’s real involvement was with the aliens, the government, and Area 51. Although naysayers will point out that the week in question was Holy Week, a time when the Cardinal was unlikely to have been far from his cathedral (to say nothing of the fact that his still-extant appointment book has no reference to any such junket), students of such things will recognize the ease with which a lack of evidence is made to appear to be a lack of reality.

Given this context, few informed people will be surprised to learn that the Cardinal was the one who recommended I view the Sunday liturgy at St. Mary of the Angels Anglican Church in Hollywood. The stated reason was that he felt I needed exposure to more solemn rites than the contemporary guitar Masses afforded; he claimed that they were slowly sapping my piety. But what informed observer would not suppose that there was another end in his mind? Certainly, I did meet there one Fr. Brian Hoey, of the Community of the Resurrection. An Anglican religious order, this group is also called the Mirfield Fathers, and numbered among its founders several former members of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. Although Fr. Hoey claimed to know nothing of them, would he have told the truth had he known?

But my knowledge of the Golden Dawn was already expanding. In 1973, I had been introduced to the works of J.R.R. Tolkien (I already knew C.S. Lewis’ works), as well as to the Mythopoeic Society. This last was a group of devotees of fantasy literature, especially of the two mentioned authors, as well as of Charles Williams --- another former member of the Golden Dawn. Apart from their sinister motto --- Laeta in chorea magna --- “Let us join in the Great Dance,” (a reference to Lewis’ Space Trilogy), they studied such suspect authors as Chesterton, Arthur Machen, and George MacDonald. About this time, I also discovered Msgr. Robert Hugh Benson. Enjoying his novels as I did, I read his biography by Fr. C.C. Martindale, S.J. There, much to my preternatural joy, I read Martindale’s sympathetic account of Benson’s keen interest in the occult, hauntings, astrology, and the like. In any case, every few years I have attended the Society’s annual convention, Mythcon, which allows likeminded literature lovers to gather --- ostensibly to discuss their favorite authors, but who knows what world shaking decisions have been made in between lectures? Certainly, I have met such folk as Diana Paxson, Madeleine L’Engle and Peter S. Beagle there, to say nothing of the late Marian Zimmer Bradley. Those in the know will understand how occult power must positively festoon such meetings.

Whether or not that be the case, the Cardinal introduced me to another initiate --- Fr. Feodore Wilcock, S.J. An English-born Russian-rite Jesuit, Fr. Wilcock had had a career unusual in the extreme. Having been surreptitiously sent into Russia in the 1920’s, he was soon caught and expelled. From there he was sent to Shanghai, spending World War II in a Japanese prison camp. After 1949, he followed his flock to the Philippines, Brazil, and then to America, where he founded the Russian Center at Fordham. Then he came to Los Angeles, to St. Andrew’s Russian Catholic Church in El Segundo, California. Scholars of such things will recognize the typical pattern of high-ranking members of the Conspiracy: frequent travel and encountering (or initiating) of world-historical events.

Later, when His Eminence would die in 1979, Fr, Wilcock took over the chore of being my confessor. But long before this event, he played a big part in my education, in terms of learning about the Eastern Rites of the Church, in all their splendor and mystery. Obviously, to any right thinking Catholic, the very existence of the iconostasis, blocking the worshipper’s view of what’s going on at the altar, must be suspect. But I adjusted.

Fr. Wilcock played a third role in my life. As chairman of the Ecumenical Commission of the Archdiocese, he introduced me to many of the Eastern and Lesser Orthodox clergy of the city. Worse still, he unveiled for me the strange and fascinating world of the Episcopi Vagantes. These “Wandering Bishops” are gentlemen, generally possessed of valid orders (which are not, incidentally, too hard to obtain) who preside over micro-churches of their own invention. Some are sincerely dedicated to their view of what the Church should be: Eastern, English, Celtic, or some mix of any of the above and more. Others like Catholicism, only a little different --- divorce, priestesses, or whatever. Some few see it as a racket to profit from, either in cash or lust. A few are just nuts. They carry on the most extraordinary feuds with each other, complete with shifting allegiances, false accusations and detraction, and struggle over nearly non-existent turf. In a word, they are very like a number of Traditional Catholics. But into this murky subculture Fr. Wilcock dispatched me, to catalogue, to enumerate, to interview. And so I did.

Now the clouds of darkness gather very fast! For it was in the autumn of 1977 that I met the Bishop of the Ecclesia Gnostica, one Stephan Hoeller, my friendship with whom would be a key factor in unveiling my role in the Conspiracy a quarter of a century later. He was (and is) a most amusing fellow, though I do not share a large number of his views. What he calls Gnosticism is perhaps more akin to what St. Clement of Alexandria called that elastic term than to what others might. But no matter; it doesn’t matter what he says! Let’s look at what he is.

the Bishop of the Ecclesia Gnostica, Stephan Hoeller

To begin with, he came of a noble Hungarian family; his uncle was the bishop who received Venerable Karl I of Austria-Hungary upon his failed attempt to retake Hungary in 1920. Sensing a vocation, Hoeller was trained by the Cistercians, until Cardinal Mindzenty sent his whole class to Austria. There, he worked for the celebrated Alois Wiesinger, O. Cist., author of the book Occult Phenomena. This Cistercian connection by itself would be troubling, to be sure: the most famous Cistercian was St, Bernard of Clairvaux, inspirer of the Knights Templar --- and any real student of secret societies knows what THAT means!

In any case, he came to Hollywood in 1951, and fell in with such folk as Aldous Huxley. This links him in a very concrete way to the higher reaches of the Conspiracy! But there is more. From time to time he would run into Cardinal McIntyre --- and they spoke in a friendly manner! He is a regular speaker at the Theosophical Society’s Krotona Institute, where Krishnamurti once presided (it must admitted that when he introduces me to Theosophists, he does take some pleasure in enunciating my last name, which was that of Mme. Blavatsky’s great opponents in Madras).

But these proofs pale in the light of the allegations made against him by one Steinbrecher after the assassination of Robert F. Kennedy. Steinbrecher alleged that Hoeller is the North American head of the Illuminati, and in fact controls the entire continent completely. Another commentator testified before Congress during the RFK enquiry that Hoeller had ordered the hit, while yet another linked him with David Ferry, the decadent New Orleans socialite whom D.A. Jim Garrison alleged was instrumental in the murder of JFK --- all of this was dramatized by Oliver Stone’s movie, JFK, of course. Even though Hoeller had not, then, ever been to New Orleans, and to this day claims never to have known Ferry or any of the other folk involved --- well, he would deny it, wouldn’t he?

My own role in all of this is admittedly unclear. But my favorite restaurant in New Orleans is Antoine’s, where Stone shows the JFK conspirers conspiring; my 40th birthday party was held in the H.M.S. Bounty, directly across the street from the Ambassador Hotel, where RFK was shot!

Yet another Russian connection was Captain George Samsonovich Doombadze. Although an ethnic Georgian (like Stalin!) he had served in the Russian army in World War I, and with the White Guards in the subsequent Russian Civil War. Serving as Chief of Intelligence to Admiral Kolchak, he supervised the evacuation of the remnant of the White Army from Vladivostok aboard a commandeered ship. Sailing to Japan, Doombadze and his men were protected from extradition to the Communists by direct intervention of the Prince Regent of Japan, the later Emperor Hirohito. As a result, even after Pearl Harbor (by which time the Captain had settled in L.A., as an employee of Kodak --- and we know what that means!), Doombadze always felt grateful to the Emperor. Worse still, he too had spent time in Shanghai, that nerve center of Asian conspiracy. He became a close friend of my family’s, even giving away my Sister-in-law at her wedding to my brother at San Fernando Mission Chapel.

As 1977 turned into 1978, it was clear that I must go to college. My choice? New Mexico Military Institute in Roswell, New Mexico! Roswell? Yes, indeed. Cardinal McIntyre approved heartily of the selection which, given his connection to the UFO that crashed there, ought not to be too surprising. But so did everyone else I knew. Obviously, my attendance there was key to the manner in which I was being prepared.

As might be expected, the Institute had various initiatory rituals common to such places. But one could not help but wonder if they had not been somewhat affected by contact with UFOs --- certainly a few of the staff might have been in the pay of the Romulan Star Empire. But my education in matters secret continued apace.

The instructor who affected me the most was one Charl Van Horn. Scion of an old New York family, he had an inherited estate at Nyack-on-Hudson. Why would he spend a large part of every year in Roswell, if not to further the Grand Design? He had converted to Catholicism at 16, through knowing Fr. Paul of Graymoor, founder of the Friars of the Atonement. During World War II, Mr. Van Horn served in the Army newspaper in Italy, meeting Padre Pio (as a result of which, he became a Third Order Franciscan). Afterward he got to know such lights of the literary world as W.H. Auden and Maxwell Perkins. Worse still, Helen Hayes was his neighbor at Nyack, and came out to the Institute to see him. Even more disturbing was his friendship with Noel Coward’s old partner, Gertrude Lawrence.

U.F.O. crash at Roswell

Any observant student will see immediately that the man was part and parcel of the effete North-Eastern establishment, something which will be borne out when I reveal what he taught, at a military college! Creative writing and poetry! It was, in fact, at his hands that I learned to write (save what my father taught me). After his poetry class on Monday night, a number of us cadets would go off to his house, sip sherry, listen to Cole Porter, Noel Coward, and the like, and read our work to him and each other. It was a cell of subversives, if ever I’ve seen one.

Not surprisingly, after Vatican II, he decided to return to the Episcopal Church --- such he was when he taught me. When Van Horn came to die in 1994, I resolved to go back to Roswell, get him reconciled to the Church, and the brown scapular round his neck. When I arrived, he had already been taken care of --- by a Franciscan --- and so nothing remained but to put the scapular on him and bid him farewell. Fittingly, he died on the Feast of the Immaculate Conception, which doctrine the Franciscans had so long (and finally successfully) defended against the Dominicans.

But that last touching scene was all smoke and mirrors. The truth of the situation was that yet another member of the Conspiracy had reached out and armed me with the practical skills I would need to spread our poison into the mental bloodstream of America. I had received more theoretical training as well in the library of the Catholic Chaplain, Fr. Kenneth Moynahan. An Army officer in World War II, Fr. Moynahan had become a Trappist afterwards. When his order abandoned silence, he decided that he would be more useful as a diocesan parish priest. He was one of the few of the clergy I have ever known who was regularly treated for overwork --- he was a pastor as well as chaplain, and loved making parish calls and visiting the sick.

Nevertheless, he passed on vital occult knowledge. Among his extensive collection of books was Sir Shane Leslie’s Ghost Book, an account of the Church’s teaching on the topic. It also contained numerous stories, as well as accounts of such Catholics as Sir Everard Feilding, who had been specially commissioned by his bishop to monitor the work of the Psychical Research Society. None of that matters, nor the fact that the book accurately reported the Church’s ban on séances, and so forth. As any good Catholic (such as my exposers) knows, even interest in such a topic is a sign of evil. Years later, when I became acquainted with Maurice Leahy, Hilaire Belloc’s former literary agent, he revealed to me that Chesterton and Belloc had had a lively interest in such things. Worse still, they had been good friends with Arthur Machen. There is no end to the web of occultism!

In any case, armed with both knowledge and practice, I returned to Los Angeles to study at California State University, Northridge. Among my instructors there was Blase Bonpane, former priest and leading exponent of Liberation Theology. Connecting myself thusly to that wing of the Conspiracy, I majored in political science, with the afore-mentioned goal of enjoying a social life. After being duly initiated into the pseudo-Masonic rites of a fraternity, I went about doing just that.

But the Northridge Library called me. There I drank deeply of the works of Joseph de Maistre, and other such counter-revolutionary writers. To the ununiformed, these would seem harmless enough --- but in reality, they are just the kind of poison folk such as I revel in. For De Maistre, alongside his German colleague, the incomparable Franz von Baader, was an unregenerate disciple of Claude de St. Martin, the so-called philosophe inconnue. Founder of the Kabalistic group called the Martinists, he has had a huge influence, through his literary disciples down to the present day.

Thanks to de Maistre’s work, all of Conservative French 19th century Catholicism must stand condemned by superior American Catholic minds of the 21st century. Dom Gueranger? Ha! He not only was a Platonist, but studied the Fathers and the ancient liturgies of the Church, with their quasi-supernatural bent; after his death, Solesmes produced Chantes Gnostico-Magique. It was not just the Occult Revival of the time in France that looked to such stuff! Dom Gueranger’s disciple at Solesmes, Jean-Sebastien Cardinal Devoucoux (1804-1870), who went from being a monk to Bishop of Evreux (“coincidentally” my family’s ancestral diocese in France) to being a curia Cardinal, was intensely interested in such things, as well as Masonic symbolism, mystical chivalry, and the like. Inspired by his example, and by the teaching of Fr. Victor Drevon, S.J., (1820-1880), in 1890, the Baron Alexis de Sarachaga (1840-1918) founded the Hiéron at Paray-le-Monial. Both a group and a building, the latter held (and holds) a museum dedicated to Eucharistic symbolism. The group studied and promoted the Kingship of Christ, the Sacred Heart, the Kabala, and other unusual things. One of the best known members of the group was Louis Charbonneau-Lassay (1871-1946), author of the well-known Bestiary of Christ. Of course, while the whole project was approved by Pope Leo XIII directly, de Sarachaga was himself a collateral descendant of St. Teresa. She of course was a Carmelite, and in some circles Carmel itself is a symbol of something or other awful.

Pope Leo XIII

But the damage done by de Maistre was not restricted to France; I have mentioned von Baader, but there were also Karl von Eckartshausen, Josef Goerres, Novalis, and the brothers Schlegel, all of whom dealt with similar topics. There is a direct line of thought running from them to the Count Claus von Stauffenberg, who led the abortive attempt to kill Hitler and save Germany.

For that matter, de Maistre affected Russia strongly as well, via Vladimir Soloviev. The insightful will note that the greatest exponent of Soloviev in France today is the highly individualistic traditionalist leader, the Abbe de Nantes. So the circle swings closed again.

But what all these folk, and many more writing in all the European languages, have in common is the notion that Europe, and so mankind, can only be saved through a Restoration of Altar and Throne. Moreover, they would hold that the latter can only be revived by the former, and that in turn can only spring back to life if a through-going sense of the Supernatural is regained. This latter, such thinkers believed, can best be served by a Platonic rather than an Aristotelian view of life; that being the case, they became intensely concerned with the writings of all those Christian writers of preceding centuries who held such views --- this included the Church Fathers and various Medievals and Renaissance figures (among whom were a number of Kabalists, Alchemists, and so on, who, in their own time, were not considered other than orthodox). My defenders would claim that such views, about this time, became my own. They would further claim that my Monarchist views stem from the same source.

But this is all very complex; and much as we may resort to complexity to prove a given conspiracy theory, we are not allowed to use it in refuting one. It is far easier to say that all these folk were in fact trying to subvert the Faith, and transform it into some kind of esoteric, hermetic, kabalistic nightmare (even if we are not quite sure what all those words mean). And so we shall.

Thus loaded down with this kind of poison, it was time to leave the groves of academe for the real world. For a time, I made my living as a standup comic, a highly suspect occupation. At this period I was a member of the Masquers’ Club, an establishment for actors my father had pointed out to me. There I met such luminaries as Hugh Beaumont (Ward Cleaver), Frank Faylen (Dobie Gillis’ father), and Pat Buttram (Mr. Haney on Green Acres). Most remarkable of all, to be sure, was Henry Brandon. He had starred as the villain Barnaby in Laurel and Hardy’s Babes in Toyland (an occultist film if ever there was one). He had an encyclopedic knowledge of speakeasies in Hollywood during Prohibition, and could always tell if one had been drinking absinthe.

It was at this stage of my sorcerer’s apprenticeship that I discovered the writings of Fr. Leonard Feeney. Here is a controversial figure if ever there was one. If we are to take him at face value, he was simply the best-selling Catholic writer in America, whose research led him to the conclusion that the dogma “No Salvation Outside the Church” was literally true, as was the necessity for water baptism. These ideas got him into hot water; his reputation was ruined, he was universally denounced as a heretic, and worst of all (to a writer) his books were effectively banned. But time moved on. He was rehabilitated without being asked to recant in 1972; in accordance with Cardinal Ratzinger’s dicta, most of his followers in religious life have been “regularized” while still being allowed to preach the stuff that brought their founder opprobrium. If, as my defenders suppose, this surface story is true, than it might be seen how Fr. Feeney’s teachings would be the cap to what I had come to hold in college. It would then make sense that I espouse them publicly. But it would also mean that evangelization would become my first interest, and that all my non-Catholic friends and acquaintances would magically transform into conversion projects, as though their and my souls depended upon it.

But, with the special vision that allowed the wise to detect my crimes, and Joseph Smith to read the golden plates handed him by the angel, we can detect a different story. When Fr. Feeney went over to England, to study at Oxford, he traveled on the same ship as Krishnamurti, the theosophical gentleman referred to earlier. Coincidence? I think not. Once arrived he studied under Lord David Cecil, as ensconced a member of the British upper class as one could think of; worse still, he occupied the same room at the Oxford Jesuit house as Gerard Manley Hopkins had. His best friend in England was Fr. C.C. Martindale, author of the suspect biography of Robert Hugh Benson earlier referred to. Once he returned to the States, he became a friend of Al Smith, he praised the infamous Fr. Charles Coughlin, and he supported (gasp!) Franco during the Spanish Civil War. Drawing the whole thing together, he knew my grandfather at Harvard.

So now we know the real story. Fr. Feeney was a key member of the Conspiracy, who, for reasons known only to us on the inside, consented to have his career ruined for the advancement of our program! It is far from surprising to the informed that Fr. Feeney was actually defended by none other than the infamous Black cult-leader Fr. Divine, who permitted his flock to buy Feeney’s books; when asked by one of these what Feeney’s problem with his superiors was, Divine replied “there’s a lack of harmony between Fr. Feeney and the Archdiocese.” Obviously some sort of code; when one puts this together with my father’s inter-racial interests --- well, a pattern is clear for those who have eyes to see.

Yet another prominent figure in the rogue’s gallery of my colleagues in subversion was the mysterious and shadowy ex-Jesuit, the late Malachi Martin. Right thinking folk are divided on his legacy. Was he a genuine sincere convert to tradition that he claimed to be, or else the ultimate insider, manipulating hapless Trads, and laughing up the sleeves of his cassock? After all, he did appear frequently on the Art Bell Show --- and we all know what that means! But while some may claim that he was simply an Irish tale teller, with a spotty past but a heart in the right place (I have known him to treat laypeople out to eat, and to pay the college tuition of poor students he never met), this must have been a front for some deeper activity. Nothing is ever what it seems.
I could go on and on, because I have dealt with many people, almost all of whom are in on the plot. It is a truly vast Conspiracy, consisting of occultists and Feeneyites, Plutocrats and Communists, Afr…um…negroes and white supremacists, Jews and gentiles, space aliens and Bigfoot. We are all in it together.

the late Malachi Martin

My defenders would claim otherwise. They might tell you that I am a perhaps somewhat eccentric fellow, who has a wide interest in a lot of things and a lot of people. They might say that I am someone who does not fear an intellectual challenge, and has no need to personally attack those who disagree with him (though he doubtless mentally schemes as to how they might be converted). They might offer concrete examples of this, and also mention that I rather like a drink…or several. They would certainly say that the charges against me by the mentioned experts are ludicrous in the extreme.

Well, don’t you believe them! They are probably either duped or else Conspirators themselves! I have presented here step-by-step proof of my involvement in a Plot so huge, so extravagant, as to beggar belief. My hat goes off to those intrepid seekers after truth who would not let conventional logic or even etiquette prevent them from rooting out the facts!

What of our progress? Well, we have certainly succeeded well in one area: although I have no expertise in Crowleyism, I do know that its central creed is “Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law.” My recent experience has shown me that many Traditional Catholics have tacitly accepted this credo, and made it their own. For such as these, they are free to say what they like, regardless of any fears lesser mortals might have of committing the sins of slander or detraction. They need not consult the accused about the charges, as both modern canon law and the Inquisition required. No, accusation is conviction, and there’s an end to it. Perhaps this embracing of old Aleister’s belief is the ultimate ecumenism! That having been said, one can see why they have such contempt for the Wiccans. In addition to holding a synthetic (not to say made-up, which would be unkind) faith, these modern witches have watered down Crowley’s rede to “An it harm none, do what you will.” To the splendid paladins of truth who have at last caught me out, the first clause would represent an intolerable dilution.

But beyond that, what goals animate us, in our caves, our tombs, our Carpathian castles, and our flying saucers? What result are our immense resources driving the human race to? In a word, what is the point of it all? Well, I might say that I could only tell you if you were among the initiated, but then you would already know. Or, I could be completely honest, and answer with the words of the immortal Edward D. Wood, Jr., in his masterpiece of cinema, Plan 9 From Outer Space: “That’s all the point there’s going to be!”

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