Sunday, December 26, 2010

What if Wal-Mart acted like the Catholic Church?

By Dennis Domrzalski

Or, the stunning hypocrisy and the slave mentality of Catholics.

What if it came out that more than 5 percent of Wal-Mart's--or any major U.S. company's--employees over a 50-year period were child rapists? What if when you took your kid shopping, one, or several of Wal-Mart's employees snatched your kid, took him or her to the back room and raped them or whacked off and spewed cum over their bodies?

What if it turned out that Wal-Mart officials knew that thousands of their employees were raping kids in those back rooms and did nothing about it. Meaning, they never called the cops on those child rapists? What if when they did discover a worker poking a kid, instead of calling the cops, they transferred the rapist to a different store?

Would you continue to shop at Wal-Mart? Would you give the firm your loyalty, money and obedience?

You would if you were a fool and a slave. Most of you would shout and scream and howl that the criminal rapists should be left to rot in prison, along with those who covered up for them. You--we--would not tolerate a culture of child rapists.

But so many Catholics are doing just that when the go to church every Sunday, obediently hand over their money, make excuses for the thousands of rapists and let the Catholic Church's leaders continue to harbor criminals and spread evil.

In the words of Larry Monte Jr. in our new book, Raped: Memories of a Catholic Altar Boy, "Catholics who ignore or excuse these crimes are accessories to the rapes."

That's right. If you refuse to shout down church leaders and demand that they turn their rapists over to the law, you're condoning child rape. If you continue to give your money to this organization, you're cheering on the rapists. If you buy the Church's line that it's no big deal that more than 5,700 of its U.S. priests, or more than 5 percent of those who served between 1950 and 2004, are and were rapists, then you might as well rape a kid yourself.

If it turned out that more than 5 percent of Wal-Mart's employees were child rapists, those workers would be rotting in prison and Wal-Mart would have long been out of business. Every politician in the nation would have already denounced them.

Why do we treat "religious" organizations differently? Why do we give them a break? It's because they've tricked people into believing they're special and that we'll all go to hell if we don't obey them. Obedience to the Catholic Church got tens of thousands of American boys and girls raped.

Larry was raped by Fr. Robert John Smith for two years in New Mexico beginning in 1972 when he was 15. Smith took him to cheap motel rooms, plied him with booze, pills and porn and raped him. It was awful. Some you can understand the absolute horror and evil of "priest sexual abuse," here's an excerpt from the book:

He loved porn too. Oh, did Fr. Robert Smith, God’s representative on earth, that noble Catholic priest, love porn. He had every porn magazine imaginable, and he kept them in a black duffel bag in the car’s trunk or in between the mattress and the box springs of his bed in the church rectory. He’d get that porn out in those motel rooms and get naked and walk his fat, filthy, smelly body around the room and whack off and ejaculate all over the room and on the white towels. He’d do it three or four times a night. One of his favorite things was, as he called it, to measure his load. He’d whack off and cum into a cup or glass and hold it up to his eye and swish it around and exclaim about what a great ejaculator he was.

When I say that Smith would cum all over those rooms, I mean it. He’d spew that shit onto the walls, the floors, the carpets, the bed sheets, the pillows, the furniture and anything and everything else he could hit or drip on.

Not only did he love to measure his load in glasses, your man of God loved to see how far he could, as he called it, shoot his load. He’d lie naked on his back on those beds, whack off and see if he could shoot his cum the length of his abdomen, stomach, chest, neck and head and onto the bed’s headboard. He’d whack off in the middle of a room just to see if he could hit a wall with his vile load.

Smith was so proud of his ability to squirt his cum over long distances. He’d laugh like a kid when he’d hit those headboards. The guy really should have been a porn actor. He wasn’t clean enough for that, though.

Here’s another thing. Your piggish priest never bothered to clean that shit off those walls and carpets and sheets and pillows and headboards. He left it there. That’s why I can’t stay in hotel or motel rooms.


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