Let's Shed No Crocodile Tears for Mel Gibson

by Michael A. Hoffman II

Mel Gibson is sick, mentally and spiritually. Deep down in his gut, he despises the Judiacs. But his need for human respect, the preservation of his bulging bank account and the tender ministrations of his Hollywood entourage, impel him to produce holohoax movies ( "Flory: Survival in the Valley of Death") on behalf of the Kosher Nostra at ABC TV.

"Poor Mel" has ample resources for extricating and redeeming himself, if he chooses. Not everyone does. I know far more worthy people, poverty-stricken activists who daily expend their time and money and risk their lives against the Judaic heirs of the first century Pharisees. They can't even get their teeth fixed, much less a speeding ticket. They toil unknown and unsung, with zero sympathy or support. The bell tolls not for them.

After symbolically pounding a nail into the hand of Jesus Christ on screen (that's his hand driving the hammer in "The Passion"), Mel Gibson is still kissing Judaic posteriors and producing Holycaust flicks (actually it was announced today that he has lost the contract with ABC for his "Holocaust" movie -- too bad, I bet it would have been a real tear-jerker and cash cow). Does it get any worse? How low can you go? Keep an eye on Mel and you just might find out.

For a long time William F. Buckley Jr. was the Catholic Right's white knight, and then Pat Buchanan and now Gibson. All of them have compromised spectacularly at one time or another. Buckley was a CIA agent and Skull and Bones member. Buchanan's last book urged a vote for George W. Bush and babbled about Pope John Paul the Great.

Gibson had an opportunity to blow the whole conspiracy open during "The Passion" controversy. This writer's research on the Talmud was hand-delivered to him in Texas. Honest Catholic activists offered him private avenues for funneling millions into the struggle against Judaism and Zionism. Instead, he flipped them off, bought himself an island in the Pacific and shipped over an eight lane bowling alley for his enjoyment.

In better times a hero was a soldier like Sextus Julius Severus, the Roman general who crushed Bar Kochba in Judea in 135, or philosophers and poets who died for their ideals, like Edmund Campion and Michael Servetus.

It is a commentary on our vitiated age when powder-puff Hollywood manikins like Gibson, or Bush-voters like Pat Buchanan, are applauded, adulated and considered "our leaders."

Leaders know who the enemy is, and they fight to the death at every opportunity with every weapon at their disposal. They don't dishonor themselves and scandalize our youth by groveling -- before Bush, as Buchanan did in 2004 --and as Gibson is going to do when he kisses up to the odious, Jesus-hating Hollywood honchos whose gauntlet he is about to run.

A century ago, depravity like this would have relegated the offender to a monastery or a hermit's cave, and forever disqualified him from any leadership position. Now it garners sympathy from womanish celebrity-worshippers who defend Mel against the ADL. The ADL can eat Gibson alive as far as I'm concerned, and he will deserve it, like all traitors and hypocrites.

The West was not built by goofballs like Gibson, or split-personalities like Buchanan, or secret agents like Buckley. I'll wager it will be won anew by despised and marginal activists with little social standing or respectability, who do great deeds while fighting with all their might against the rabbis, popes, politicians, professors and preachers.

Let's shed no crocodile tears for Gibson, just buy him a case of chapstick. He's going to need it.

Copyright © 2006 RevisionistHistory.org

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