Editor’s Note: This
will be our last post for this year. As we did last year, we will be “taking
a break,” now that Pistrina Liturgica is returning
from theirs. We will be back on or
about the first of the year.
A
former SGG parishioner who worked in its office reports that, as part of her
job, she picked up Dannie Dolan’s and Tony Cekada’s mail
for them every day, and that when she brought it in, Tony would hand her a letter opener
-- and she would then have to open it for him. Apparently, this task was too “menial” for Tony. This same woman said
that, one day, Tony also put his shoes under her desk,
apparently expecting her to shine them for him. Needless to say, she ignored
the shoes. (By this time, she
realized that she was being treated like a base lackey -- and decided that “enough
was enough.”) After a month on the
job, she quit. (And, oh, by the way, she never got
paid for that month’s work.) And
as for Dannie, in addition to such servitude, he expects even more: Dannie, as is widely known, is so
jaded that he doesn’t even drive: His Self-Importancy must be chauffeur-driven everywhere he goes.1
Another
incident that gives an insight into Checkie’s “character” happened one Sunday
when a phone call for him came in from Europe. And because Tony was in his “office” (conversing with a
couple of parishioners), the person taking the call knocked on the office door
to let him know. Tony, pretending
not to hear him knocking, kept on conversing. Finally, after knocking again, the person stuck his head in
the door, and – speaking for no more than five or ten seconds -- informed Tony
of “a call from Europe”; whereupon Tony, disdainfully looking up, rebuked him
for “interrupting,” saying, “Don’t you see that I’m busy? Tell them to call back later.”
Tony’s
“conversation,” by the way, was of no great importance, while the call from
Europe was – but Tinhorn Tony
had to make a point of “not being disturbed,” and therefore used this occasion
to make his “importance” felt.
There are, we’re sure, many other examples of Tony’s pretentious
arrogance; but we think this one gets the point across. We’re also sure that Dannie has done
much the same thing (but perhaps a little more “subtly” than Tony). But, typically, the only instances where
the terrible twosome ever “have any time for anyone” are those where one can do
them some material good, either actually or potentially. Otherwise, one gets “short shrift” from
them (or is completely ignored by
them).
Their
arrogance plays out in so many other ways too – in the opulence of their life-style,
for instance. In their 2000+ sq.
ft., three-climate-zone rectory, Dannie and Tony live in air-conditioned (or
heated) comfort, while Gertie mothers must put up with a “zero-climate-zone” vestibule for them and their crying infants (where they
sweat in summer and shiver in winter).
Dannie and Tony’s rectory, by the way, includes an over-sized private
bedroom for each – with each bedroom having its own huge walk-in closet and
private bath.
In
the “church” building, it’s much the same. Space originally intended for staff offices was “reassigned,”
and remade into a “social hall.” For Dannie and Tony, however, there was no such “cost-cutting.” For them, each was given his own
over-sized office (Dannie’s has a fireplace), with both offices sharing a
wet-bar kitchenette and a private full bath (with shower). Meanwhile, the dozen or so “staff” got
shoe-horned into an area about the size of Dannie’s office, and they must share
the “social hall” bathroom facilities with the other parishioners. (It is
interesting to note, too, that the complex includes a windowless “sleeping”
room that can be used for other activities that lend themselves to “windowless
rooms.”)
But
Dannie’s and Tony’s arrogance perhaps plays out most in their shameless self-promotion.
Dannie touts himself as Traddieland’s master of all things “liturgical” -- and
Tony, of course, of all things “theological.” Together, though, they try to pass themselves off as
Traddieland’s “authorities on everything.” In recent years, they have branched out into all sorts of
things. Not content with just
performing for the “studio audience” (his in-house Gerties), Dannie has, as
we’ve already noted, put his “show” online
(along with his bulletins, newsletters, and his never-ending pleas for
donations). And, as we’ve also
noted, Tony has -- in addition to his printed publications -- gone “cyber” with
his YouTube videos. But that is not enough for these
glory-hungry gourmands. In their
eagerness to promote themselves as a “full-service” cult center, they have, in
the past year or two, launched two new initiatives: a liturgical “calendar” and
an “Ordo.”
And
how have all of these initiatives fared?
Miserably. Without exception, these new endeavors have
been exposed for the shoddily plagiarized mistake-a-thons that they are; and,
outside the cult center walls, NO ONE
pays attention to them. But in their
arrogance, Dannie and Tony don’t
seem to notice that the world-at-large is ignoring them. Their arrogance insulates them from
such harsh realities, because, like other forms of self-delusion, it does not
recognize itself. It knows no
shame. So, week after week,
unembarrassed and unabashed, they plod on, impervious
to the fact that they are huge failures
in the world-at-large. And, like
the carnival hucksters that they are, they continue to sell their snake oil to whomever
is gullible enough to buy it.
And
so far, they still have found enough suckers who will donate to keep their
ecclesiastical medicine show limping along on “bruise control” – but just
barely. That critical mass is
shrinking as people inevitably wake up; and as they do, the financial burden of
the Lotarski millstone weighs more and more heavily around their necks. That, coupled with the fact that none
of their “extracurricular” ventures has ever panned out, means that it’s becoming
harder and harder for them to make ends meet. (Proceeds from Tony’s opus, WHH, for instance, haven’t been enough to crowd-fund a lemonade
stand.) By and large, it’s their
old standby – donations from their gullible Gerties – that keeps them afloat.
How
long will these carnival con men hold out? We don’t know.
But what is certain is that their demise is inevitable, because – although Dannie and Tony will never recognize
their own arrogance – their Gerties inevitably will. (No one
stays gullible forever, and even they
will eventually wake up one day.)
But Dannie and Tony will not
“wake up,” because they’ve been faking it for so long, it has become “real” for
them; and they are hopelessly ensconced in their self-delusion.
Dannie
will continue in the delusion that he is TradWorld’s “reigning expert” on rites
and rubrics (in spite of the fact that he’s been caught over and over again “making it up as he goes along” in his
unrelenting efforts to make his “show” more spectacular); and Tony will
continue to fashion himself as a “scholar” and a “theologian” (even though he’s
neither – and has made himself the laughing stock of TradWorld). Dannie and Tony will continue to try to
exploit and victimize their followers.
But, as we said, no one stays gullible forever. They’ll get wise to Dannie and Tony --
and when they do, these archdukes of
arrogance who have been exalting themselves all these years will, at long
last, be deservedly humbled.
___________________________
1 We’re
not quite sure why Dannie never learned to drive; but we’re sure that, if
asked, he will come up with some “explanation” as to why he didn’t (and, of
course, his gullible Gerties will probably “buy it.”) But the fact is, even old
ladies learn how to drive these days; and it is inconceivable that, in
today’s world, a grown man doesn’t drive. Actually, it’s our guess that Dannie does
know how to drive, but won’t, because
he figures that “driving a motorcar” would be beneath the dignity of someone of
his “personage.” But if Dannie
thinks that being chauffeur-driven “enhances his image,” he’s sadly
mistaken. In this day and age, an
able-bodied man not being able to drive is simply unheard of – except, of course, if he is physically (or mentally)
disabled – or (as we suspect) has a prima
donna complex.
