FRIAR ONION, THAT CHARACTER CREATED BY GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO WHO INSPIRED A FIRE SERMON IN SAN BERNARDINO IN THAT MIDDLE AGES WHICH WAS GREAT LIGHT AND CERTAINLY NOT DARK

[…] once the waiters arrived early to warn the Supreme Pontiff Benedict XIV that during the night a fire had broken out in Rome in the Monti district. To which he blurted out: "Shit! And there have been deaths?». Monsignor Teodoro Boccapaduli tugged him discreetly. After the waiters had detailed the seriousness of the fact, the Supreme Pontiff replied bursting: "Shit!». And Monsignor tugs him again. At that point Benedict XIV, saddened by that grave report, he turns towards the prelate bursting out: "Boccapaduli.", you broke my balls: dick, dick, dick! Ah, I want to sanctify this word. Indeed I want to promulgate one fucking bubble, to grant plenary indulgence to those who pronounce this word ten times a day ".

— History and current events —

Author
Ariel S. Levi di Gualdo

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More than making a hypothesis, I dare to attribute a little discovery to myself: in his fiery sermon San Bernardino of Siena [Massa Marittima 1380 - L'Aquila 1444] he was inspired by, or was in any case influenced by the short story of Friar Cipolla enclosed in the work Decameron, composed by Giovanni Boccaccio between the 1349 and the 1351.

The fratacchione Boccaccio he used to travel the countries of the countryside showing the most improbable relics to the bifolchi, including the little finger of the Holy Spirit, one of the ribs of the «Dear Verbum made at the window» [crippling of the Latin: and Word was made flesh], the rays of the star that appeared to the three Magi in the East, an ampoule containing the sweat of Archangel Michael that fell from his forehead when he fought with the Devil, the jaw of the Death of San Lazzaro and so on.

Being in that of Certaldo, he had promised the villagers that the following day he would exhibit an extraordinary relic to the people: a pen that fell to Archangel Gabriel during the Annunciation. Senonché, at night, two local pranksters stole the precious angelic pen from inside the box in which it was kept, replacing it with coals. When Friar Cipolla opened the box to show the precious relic to the Boeotians, He was not dismayed when he discovered some coals inside, he apologized to those present saying that on his departure he had mistakenly taken the wrong container, identical to the one in which the precious pen was kept. Like this, after an apology, he provided the people with the coals on which the Holy Martyr Lorenzo was roasted.

A few decades later, Bernardino degli Albizzeschi, son of a powerful family from the upper Tuscan Maremma, today universally known as San Bernardino of Siena [Massa Marittima 1380 - L'Aquila 1444], in one of his sermons he launched himself against popular superstitions, particularly taking it out on the false relics and the profitable market that revolved around it. The subject of that sermon with an evident Boccaccio style was the relic of the milk of the Blessed Virgin Mary preserved in the collegiate church of Montevarchi, in which Friar Bernardino thundered:

"It is who you want, I say you do not like these things to God these. Like milk from the Virgin Mary. Or women, where you are? And likewise you, able men, vedestene mai? You know you should be showing for relics: v'aviate not faith […] Maybe she was a cow the Virgin Mary, she had her milk lassato, how loose the beasts, you lassano mugnare? I have this opinion: that is, she had so much milk, neither more nor less, enough that Bochina Jesu Christ blessed " [San Bernardino of Siena – Hypocrite devotions. in: Baldi. Novels and moral examples of S. Bernardino of Siena, Florence, 1916].

Period painting of the Supreme Pontiff Benedict XIV [Bologna 1675 - Rome 1758], who with scurrilous elegance threatened some members of the curia scandalized by his colorful words, to promulgate a "Bull of the cock"

As is known to true and serious scholars, the middle Ages, the true one, divided into the space of almost a thousand years in three different eras that have followed throughout history, it was not the era of the "dark ages" at all, but of the centuries of light. In the Middle Ages there was the highest development of the light of speculative reason, combined with a critical sense and a spirit of unceasing research in the various areas of scientific knowledge. If the history books used in schools were not written by ideologists, it would be clear to everyone that the legends Black on the Middle Ages they were built at the table at the end of the eighteenth century by enlightened poisoners of hatred towards everything that was Catholic. They were in fact these, animated by destructive ideology, to relegate the Middle Ages to the "dark ages" in the name of their alleged "lights of reason" lit under the French guillotines, where heads fell one after the other following accusations based on mere inferences, often out of pure social envy, or after farcical summary trials in which the defendants were not granted the right to defense, nor that to the word [see my work Nada s security]. This is in contrast to the terrifying inquisitorial process, fruit this yes, of the most absurd and false black legends. Oh, what gross ignorance! The inquisitorial process, in addition to establishing the legal right to defend the defendant, it just couldn't be celebrated without defense and the right to speak. It was the inquisitorial process that gave rise to the custom that after the reading of the sentence the condemned person was granted the last right to speak. It would be enough to read the legal works and related documents of the Bolognese glossers, that between the eleventh and twelfth centuries, in the "dark" Middle Ages they gave life to all those that would later become the modern legal institutes, after recovering the Body of Civil Law by Justinian and reinterpreted all the classical texts.

but yet, to the present day, also the last of the gay illiterates ideologically poisoned towards Catholicism, but rose to television honors with some sequels talk show where it is unthinkable that there could be no lack of cheerful quotas, from the height of his victimized and desolating ignorance he does not fail to make pseudo-historical-intellectual references to the Middle Ages, or at medieval spirit, to create an effect and put something retro or superstitious in a bad and ridiculous light, as well as everything that is Catholic and linked to the Catholic Church. Unfortunately, the cheerful TV activist or from social network, however, he ignores that the Middle Ages are the era of rediscovery, of the study and preservation of all classical philosophy and literature. If today we can read the most critical works written by Greek and Roman authors against the nascent Christianity, o i carmi more lustful and pornographic written by Valerio Gaio Catullo, it is certainly not thanks to the Enlightenment inventors of black legends and false historians, nor for the activism of today's fierce LGBT lobbies, but why these works have been saved, transcribed and handed down to the present day by the Benedictine amanuensis monks, born in the 6th century from monasticism founded by San Benedetto da Norcia. E, in the context of Benedictine monasticism, among various things, both the name and the socio-political concept of Europe itself developed, the same one that today denies an incontrovertible historical fact: the Christian roots of our ancient European continent. So, always with all due respect to the cheerful activist who from the prodigious means of television or from social network often addresses millions of listeners, it is easy to say that the Middle Ages are Pier Damiani, Peter Abelard, Anselm of Aosta and the great masters of scholasticism. The Middle Ages is Bernard of Clairvaux, Thomas Aquinas, Bonaventura da Bagnoregio, Duns Scotus. The Middle Ages are the great engineers, architects, mathematicians, astronomers and alchemists, most of them belonging to the Carthusian Order and the Cistercian Order. The Middle Ages marked the season of the great literati: the Sicilian literary school of Frederick II of Swabia, Guido Cavalcanti, Dante Alighieri, Francesco Petrarca, Giovanni Boccaccio …

The man of the Middle Ages he also had an extraordinary taste for satire which, the more pungent it was the more it made popes laugh, emperors and rulers, none of whom gave up delighting on the most pungent satirical works, not only those of Boccaccio, but also those of the most scurrilous Peter the Aretino. We had to reach the present day to end up in the courts thanks to some crybaby activist to argue for, even in a polemical way, in essence this means: “I have the right to destroy your Catholic culture and morality piece by piece, because I am the sacred immaculate LGBT victim, but you have no right of reply, except for a dispute”. Other times were the medieval ones, where when someone wanted to delight the Supreme Pontiff Pius II [Weather in Corsignano di Pienza 1405 – Ancona 1464], all he had to do was hire a talented storyteller to perform the rhymes of his Sienese fellow citizen Cecco Angiolieri [Siena 1260 – Siena 1311 c.a], who used to joke in taverns amidst laughter, wine and very cheerful women:

S’i’ were focus, combustion’ the world;
s’i’ was wind, the tempestarei;
s’i’ was water, i’ to drown;
s’i’ was God, send it deep;

s’i’ was Pope, I would be happy then,
for I would embrace all Christians;
s’i’ was ‘emperor’, to’ what would I do?
to all cut off the head in the round.

Not that Silvio Enea of ​​the Piccolomini accounts, then he ascended the sacred throne with the name of Pius II, was outdone in cutting sarcasm, as when he ironically condemned the request and the hope of obtaining favors from him by motteggiando:

I was Enea,

nobody knew me,

but now that I am Pio,

everyone calls me uncle.

An elderly theologian, talking about the Middle Ages defined as the era of the so-called "dark ages" by many today's activists of that methodical destruction of European societies passed off as "claiming rights", with scientific wisdom he ironized saying: "Maybe, today's man had the speculative reason and the critical and analytical sense of that of the Middle Ages! Unfortunately today, man, so to speak, evolved, which claims every right but rejects any duty, his presumed reason is exercised by reasoning with his dick". I pointed out to the elderly brother: "You are right, but don't forget those who think with the subjective emotions of the ass!». All this genre gives rise to a culture of death which, through the annihilation of reason, has plunged us into new forms of illiteracy, much more devastating than those of the past, but above all in a new form of dictatorship: The dictatorships of minorities. Without going backwards over the centuries, just take a step backwards of just a century, at the beginning of the twentieth century, at the time of Vigils of Neri, work of the Tuscan writer Renato Fucini [Monterotondo Marittimo 1843 - Empoli 1921]. Let's start from the element of memory: elderly peasants who barely knew how to read and write, quite a few of whom were in conditions of total illiteracy, they were authentic itinerant literature libraries. During the evening vigils, in times when there was no cinema, let alone the TV, they entertained by narrating works learned by heart: from the Jerusalem Liberated by Torquato Tasso a Orlando Furioso by Ludovico Ariosto. I myself can testify to this, when I am just ten years old, in the lower Tuscan Maremma, on the border with Lazio, for the first time I knew the existence of Dante Alighieri's work, to be exact Hell, thanks to an elderly farmer, at the age of eighty - we are therefore talking about a man born in the late nineteenth century - who began to narrate, to us children, by Count Ugolino and Archbishop Ruggieri by reciting from memory:

The mouth lifted from the proud meal
quel sinner, shaking her hair
of the chief who had a retro fault.

Then it began: "You want me to renew
desperate pain that my heart presses me
already thinking, before I do it.

Ma se le mie word esser dien seme
that bears fruit to the traitor I eat,
talk and weep you will see together […]

Present my cousin, at the time just graduated in classical letters, amazed she then said to the other family members present: «He didn't make a mistake, I don't say a sentence, but not even a word!». That man had memorized entire literature books, that he hadn't read: he had learned them since he was a child during the vigils. I knew, afterwards, who had done the second grade of elementary school, the time strictly necessary to learn the basic rudiments of writing and reading, acquired which had followed parents and family in the fields of agricultural work.

Many of our super technological teenagers, already at the end of elementary school they have entire collections of pornographic films recorded in theirs Smartphone; while the girls, already at eleven or twelve, they post their photos on social media in clothes and positions that would make the prostitutes who worked in the old brothels pale, before it in 1952 the Merlin Law decreed its closure, thanks to a bill proposed by Senator Angelina Merlin, of the Socialist Party, presented in 1948. but yet, these modern hyper-technological "monsters", unlike the man of the Middle Ages and the man of yesterday, that of The vigils of Neri, They have such poor memory that they can't even remember their parents' cell phone number. Well: you know what happens if human intelligence, especially through reasoning and memory, it is not exercised? Roughly what we have under our eyes can happen: a generation of apathetic and ignorant idiots. Just so: we regressed to forms of frightening illiteracy, it would be enough to read the texts written by recent graduates, to be disconcerted in the face of such a deficit syntax enriched by gross grammatical errors. But ... we have evolved. So much to allow us with unheard of arrogance to make irony on the Middle Ages, we who are no longer able to exercise reason and objective critical judgment, because now we only think: either with the dick or with subjective emotions, or worse, with the ass from which the worst of our egocentrism and our blind pathological narcissism comes out, what leads us to claim rights and reject duties, until the attempt, thank God shipwrecked in Italy for now, to use the law to combat as a crime the legitimate opinion of those who do not think like you - I am referring to the happy and blessed shipwreck of the Zan Bill, about which Father Ivano Liguori and I wrote the book From Prozan to Prozac —, therefore prosecuting those who dare to say and maintain that a child can only be born from a man and a woman who are father and mother, that two homosexuals cannot buy a child from a rented womb or that two lesbian women cannot selfishly plan the birth of an orphan by resorting to artificial insemination, claiming to be both recognized by the law as legitimate parents. It is early said that this generation, degenerate daughter of digital illiteracy, devoid of historical memory and of that same cerebral memory exercised, useful to make us remember at least the phone number of our parents, should never be allowed, not even as a joke or as a joke to paradoxes, to make fun of the glorious Middle Ages, marking it as an era of the "dark ages".

In this narrative I have used the word four times “dick”, almost as if I could not express myself without certain splashes of color, which I can do very well. What to say: in these moments of desolation, leave a splash of bright color to this poor priest on the threshold of sixty years old, so that everyone can enjoy their fun. The lemma "dick" is also joined by that other beautiful idiomatic phrase of ... "notorious dickheads", that is, the boundless army of those who don't understand a damn thing about what you wrote, or the deep way, also wanting scientifically relevant in which you wrote it, to consider that now, reached the bottom of the barrel, all we have left is the provocation. So, the idiomatic and homonymous cock heads, they fossilize only on this word, after that bigots, pinchers and self-styled Catholics are indignant towards the vulgar priest, all accompanied by lessons of style given with a moralism that would make the American Calvinists of the seventeenth century envious by those gay characters who were scandalized with profound indignation at the poetic and provocative reference to the word “dick”, except, however, to take it cheerfully and legitimately in the ass and claim it shortly after “sacred right” to the purchase of a child bought from a rented womb. And this what it means? By chance it means that through anal coitus and sodomy one of the two men cannot get pregnant, to the point of needing a paid uterus? But how ungrateful and bad nature has been, so let's correct it with the help of the LGBT lobby.

This noble term it was much loved and used by the Supreme Pontiff Benedict XIV [Bologna 1675 - Rome 1758], nee Prospero Lambertini, bolognese. With usual frequency the Augustus Pontiff indulged in very colorful expressions, starting from his first appearance before the crowd exulted after his election to the sacred throne. It was in fact on that occasion that, seeing that large crowd gathered in the square of the papal arcibasilica of San Pietro, he said in a low voice to the prelate next to him: "And all these people, as a campa?». The prelate, that he was no less and that he had deep knowledge of the newly elected, He answered: «... Campania by pulling it in the ass with each other». The Pontiff replies: "... yes! Then there is us, that instead we pull it in the ass at all!». Afterwards, within the Roman curia, several times aroused amazement and perplexity that he used to intercalate saying "shit!». Until the August Pontiff appointed an assistant to his room, Monsignor Teodoro Boccapaduli, to discreetly pull it for the robe, if he started with certain colorful phrasebooks. Until once the waiters arrived early to warn the Supreme Pontiff that a fire had broken out in Rome in the Monti district during the night. To which he blurted out: "Shit! And there have been deaths?». Monsignor tugged him discreetly. After the waiters had detailed the seriousness of the fact, the Supreme Pontiff replied bursting: "Shit!». And Monsignor tugs him again. At that point Benedict XIV, saddened by that grave report, he turns towards the prelate bursting out: "Boccapaduli.", you broke my balls: dick, dick, dick! Ah, I want to sanctify this word. Indeed I want to promulgate one fucking bubble, to grant plenary indulgence to those who pronounce this word ten times a day ".

There would be much to tell about this great figure, but we limit ourselves to briefly saying that the Supreme Pontiff Benedict XIV was a careful administrator in favor of the needs of the people and charitable activities, at the same time he was a great promoter of the arts and sciences. With acute political ability, but at the same time with a great pastoral spirit, he was tireless guardian of the faith, promoter of the missions for the new evangelization and at the same time a man of profound culture and open-mindedness, enough to maintain intense correspondence with figures very distant from the Catholic world, from Protestant rulers to the father himself of modern anti-clericalism: François-Marie Arouet, known under the pseudonym of Voltaire.

Today the children of this great dark century I am not able, at the height of their digital illiteracy, to laugh about Novel of Friar Cipolla, as did the illiterate wit of the medieval countryside. Nor am I able to understand a great man of faith, so free from any form of internal and external vulgarity, to be able to affirm with true candor: «… if you don't stop pissing me off, I promulgate a fucking bubble, complete with plenary indulgence for those who pronounce this word ten times a day".

Let's ask ourselves: but who they are, the real vulgar ones? I'll explain it right away: are certain Catholics who send images created with photoshop, depicting a Jesus Christ on the cross sacrilegiously gayzzato, with an androgynous face and a languid expression that does not recall the mystery of passion at all, rather a girl awaiting coitus. And in front of these blasphemous images, I who have an eye accustomed to Cimabue, to Fra Angelico, to Filippino Lippi from Prato, to Titian, Giotto and Michelangelo, to follow with Guido Reni and Cararavaggio, until the most recent wonderful crucifixion by Salvador Dalì, maybe I shouldn't blurt: pseudo-fucking Catholics, you broke my balls, breed of digital blasphemers! Christ the Lord was not a languid child since photoshop with the androgynous air affixed to the cross, he was true God and true man, for this he made the cross terribly true, as true as God and true man was.

I children of the modern digital age of this dark century, after reading half a page and reading the entire text in two minutes, then identified the little word about which to argue, in this case the mythical word "fuck", have already sent outraged messages, almost as if they cared, above all else, to fully demonstrate how much they have not really understood a fucking emeritus. And while totally indifferent I let them get busy, place that for years and years, at this point, they can't even break my balls anymore, I turn to the few who can laugh at all the modern Onion Friars who have a prerogative, however: to get more money out of your pocket than a snake charmer can stun an Indian cobra. Indeed, just tell the Boeotian people, that of pseudo-Catholicism built on the contempt of reason and erected on subjective sentimental emotions, that on such and such a day in such and such a place Our Lady appeared to me and gave me a message. Then, if this is said it will also be added that the Madonna revealed to me a terrifying secret that will shock humanity... here are the wallets opening like accordions. What Our Lady said to me appearing? Suffice it to say: “… Our Lady told me to tell you that she loves you and that she invites you to be good and to pray …”. At that point the accordions will expand even more, if the great morbid itch of the terrifying secret joins the silly banality of the message, because at that point the accordions will explode, until the real rain of money. And we want to talk, at least briefly, of the army of self-styled spiritual sons and daughters of Saint Pio of Pietrelcina, ultra specialized in making money pour out, several of them in their early sixties?

The truth will set us free, as stated in our motto taken from the Gospel of the Blessed Apostle John [cf. GV 8,32], but at the same time we know how much the truth has never paid anyone, in particular when we say those truths that nobody wants to be told, nor when it refers to reality, escape from emotions and fatuous sentimentality. Truth does not pay off when one insists on it I can only believe that faith moves on reason and requires reasoning and a deep critical and analytical sense, because in this era of digital illiteracy acting in this way is a truly suicidal policy, to well consider that today, people who say they are Catholic, want irrational emotions, sensational elements, so much sterile controversy and so futile gossip. And who offers these products, will always be paid in any way. While who, before all this, he blurts out saying “fuck it!”, it's just vulgar, not to say: a priest's shame.

the Island of Patmos, 17 June 2023

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Father Ariel's new book has just been released and is being distributed, you can buy it by clicking directly on the cover image or by entering our bookshop WHO

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