Comedian Sarah Silverman appeared on Bill Maher’s HBO show on October 9 attacking the Vatican. She began her monologue bemoaning the plight of world hunger, and then found a solution: “What is the Vatican worth, like 500 billion dollars? This is great, sell the Vatican, take a big chunk of the money, build a gorgeous condominium for you and all your friends to live in…and with the money left over, feed the whole f—ing world.”

Speaking of the pope, Silverman continued, “You preach to live humbly, and I totally agree. So, now maybe it’s time for you to move out of your house that is a city. On an ego level alone, you will be the biggest hero in the history of ever. And by the way, any involvement in the Holocaust, bygones….”

Silverman closed by saying, “If you sell the Vatican, and you take that money, and you use it to feed every single human being on the planet, you will get crazy [expletive deleted]. All the [expletive repeated].” In the background, there was a drawing of a penis.

“Silverman’s assault on Catholicism is just another example of HBO’s corporate irresponsibility,” we said in a news release. “Time and again, if it’s not Bill Maher thrashing the Catholic Church, it’s one of his guests. There is obviously something pathological going on there: Silverman’s filthy diatribe would never be allowed if the chosen target were the Chief Rabbi of Jerusalem and the state of Israel.”

We ended our statement with a reality check for Silverman: “The Catholic Church operates more hospitals and feeds more of the poor than any private institution in the world. It also saved more Jews during the Holocaust than any other institution in the world.”

Members are urged to write to Bill Nelson, Chairman, HBO, 1100 Avenue of Americas, New York, NY 10036; or write to him at Bill.Nelson@hbo.com

If this wasn’t bad enough, the vulgar video was proudly made available on the following websites: Huffington Post; Gawker; TheFrisky; New York Daily News; MediaBistro; Examiner; AirAmerica; Ecorazzi; TheCelebrityTruth; Newser; EOnline; TheDailyBeast; Beliefnet.

On none of these websites could we find the video of Imus making fun of black athletes at Rutgers, nor could we find the one where Michael Richards ripped blacks while performing. In both instances, Imus and Richards apologized. But when Catholicism is the object of scorn, there are no apologies. Just opportunities to flag the offense one more time.

Comedian Sarah Silverman appeared on Bill Maher’s HBO show on October 9 attacking the Vatican. She began her monologue bemoaning the plight of world hunger, and then found a solution: “What is the Vatican worth, like 500 billion dollars? This is great, sell the Vatican, take a big chunk of the money, build a gorgeous condominium for you and all your friends to live in…and with the money left over, feed the whole f—ing world.”

Speaking of the pope, Silverman continued, “You preach to live humbly, and I totally agree. So, now maybe it’s time for you to move out of your house that is a city. On an ego level alone, you will be the biggest hero in the history of ever. And by the way, any involvement in the Holocaust, bygones….”

Silverman closed by saying, “If you sell the Vatican, and you take that money, and you use it to feed every single human being on the planet, you will get crazy p—y. All the p—y.”

Catholic League president Bill Donohue responds as follows:

Silverman’s assault on Catholicism is just another example of HBO’s corporate irresponsibility. Time and again, if it’s not Bill Maher thrashing the Catholic Church, it’s one of his guests. There is obviously something pathological going on there: Silverman’s filthy diatribe would never be allowed if the chosen target were the Chief Rabbi of Jerusalem and the state of Israel.

Here’s a reality check for Silverman: the Catholic Church operates more hospitals and feeds more of the poor than any private institution in the world. It also saved more Jews during the Holocaust than any other institution in the world.

Contact HBO head Bill Nelson: Bill.nelson@hbo.com

This article by Bill Donohue was published by CNSNews.

Why did Stephen Paddock murder at least 59 people, wounding well over 500? His rampage was not politically motivated, and he has no history of mental illness. He was a multimillionaire and quite intelligent. Indeed, he worked for Lockheed Martin, the defense contractor, and was an accountant and property manager. But he was socially ill.

To be specific, he was a loner, unable to set anchor in any of his relationships, either with family or friends. That played a huge role in his killing spree, which ended when he killed himself.

Before considering his upbringing and lifestyle, the role that nature may have played cannot be dismissed.

Paddock’s father was a bank robber who was on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list. More important, he was diagnosed as “psychopathic” and “suicidal.”

“It has been established for some time that genes play a significant role in the makeup of those individuals eventually diagnosed with such conditions as Antisocial Personality Disorder,” writes Dr. George Simon, an expert in this area.

There is no doubt that Paddock was acutely antisocial, and there is much evidence linking that trait to pathological behaviors.

Dr. Samuel E. Samenow is a clinical psychologist and author of Inside the Criminal Mind. He co-authored, with Dr. Samuel Yochelson, the highly influential book, The Criminal Personality. His understanding of mass shooters as loners has much to recommend.

Who are these people? “They are secretive individuals who do not want others to know them. They may be highly intelligent, achieve high grades in school, and even obtain responsible positions.” But their inability to establish bonds is undeniable, and that is critically important to understanding what makes them tick.

Significantly, the loner turned murderer possesses a personality that drives people away from him. “These are not likable individuals,” Samenow says. “No one seems to have known them well. They marginalize themselves, rejecting the world well before the world rejects them.”

Now consider what we know about Paddock.

Paddock had no relationship with his gangster father, and was estranged from his brothers. Moreover, he had few, if any, friends. Twice divorced, he had no children. Moreover, he was not in a position to make friends with co-workers: the last time he had a full-time job was 30 years ago.

Paddock never laid anchor anywhere. Growing up, his family moved from Iowa to Tucson to Southern California. His next door Florida neighbor, Donald Judy, said, “Paddock was constantly on the move, carrying a suitcase and driving a rental car,” noting that he “looked like he’d be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”

He certainly got around. He once owned 27 residences in four states, and bragged how he was a “world traveler” and a “professional gambler.” There is no evidence that his world traveling, which was done on cruise ships, ever involved someone else.

Paddock’s recreational pursuits were always solo enterprises. He owned single-engine planes and was a licensed fisherman—a popular solitary sport—in Alaska. His gambling was also a solitary experience. For instance, Paddock did not play the crap table, where gamblers interact. No, he only played video games by himself.

His brother Eric is distraught at his inability to understand Stephen. No matter, his observations about him shed much light on who he was.

Eric said Stephen got bored with flying planes, so he gave it up. It appears that he was looking for some excitement in his lonely life, which explains his gambling preference. “It has to be the right machine with double points,” Eric says, “and there has to be a contest going on. He won a car one time.”

Similarly, Eric notes that Stephen “was a wealthy guy, playing video poker, who went cruising all the time and lived in a hotel room.” He added that he “was at the hotel for four months one time. It was like a second home.” It would be more accurate to say that Stephen never had a home.

Eric recalls that Stephen excelled at sports but never played or joined organized clubs. “He wasn’t a team kind of guy.”

Stephen was not close to any of his brothers, and in the case of Patrick, the two had not seen each other for 20 years. This explains why Patrick did not initially recognize Stephen when his face was shown on TV.

Stephen’s Florida neighbor, Donald Judy, said that the inside of Paddock’s house “looked like a college freshman lived there.” There was no art on the walls, etc, just a bed, two recliners, and one dining chair.

Diane McKay lived next door to Paddock in Reno. “He was weird. Kept to himself. It was like living next door to nothing.” Indeed, “He was just nothing, quiet.”

The local sheriff from Mesquite, Nevada, where Paddock also lived, labeled him “reclusive.” One of Paddock’s neighbors agreed, noting that he was “a real loner.”

“Real loners” are not only unable to commit themselves to others, they are unable to commit themselves to God. So it came as no surprise that Paddock had no strong religious beliefs. It would have been startling to find out otherwise.

It’s all about the “Three Bs”: beliefs, bonds, and boundaries. As I found out when I compared cloistered nuns to Hollywood celebrities on measures of physical and mental health, as well as happiness (see The Catholic Advantage: How Health, Happiness and Heaven Await the Faithful), it is not the nuns who are unhealthy, or who suffer from loneliness, depression, and suicide.

“People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.” This is one of Barbra Streisand’s most famous refrains. She didn’t quite nail it. There is nothing lucky about needing people—it’s a universal appetite. People who have people are the luckiest people in the world. Paddock was not so lucky.

Most loners are not mass murderers, but most murderers are loners. In the case of Paddock, it appears that his antisocial personality, coupled with an acute case of ennui, or sheer boredom with life, found relief by lighting up the sky. Sometimes the mad search for causation can lead us astray; we should not overlook more mundane reasons why the socially ill decide to act out in a violent way.

Sadly, our society seriously devalues religion, celebrates self-absorption, and disrespects boundaries. This is not a recipe for well-being; rather, it is a prescription for mass producing Paddock-like people. We are literally planting the social soil upon which sick men like him feed.

Catholic League president Bill Donohue holds a Ph.D. in sociology from New York University, and has taught and written on the subject of criminology for many years. He offers the following analysis of the Las Vegas killer:

Why did Stephen Paddock murder at least 59 people, wounding well over 500? His rampage was not politically motivated, and he has no history of mental illness. He was a multimillionaire and quite intelligent. Indeed, he worked for Lockheed Martin, the defense contractor, and was an accountant and property manager. But he was socially ill.

To be specific, he was a loner, unable to set anchor in any of his relationships, either with family or friends. That played a huge role in his killing spree, which ended when he killed himself.

Before considering his upbringing and lifestyle, the role that nature may have played cannot be dismissed.

Paddock’s father was a bank robber who was on the FBI’s Ten Most Wanted list. More important, he was diagnosed as “psychopathic” and “suicidal.”

“It has been established for some time that genes play a significant role in the makeup of those individuals eventually diagnosed with such conditions as Antisocial Personality Disorder,” writes Dr. George Simon, an expert in this area.

There is no doubt that Paddock was acutely antisocial, and there is much evidence linking that trait to pathological behaviors.

Dr. Samuel E. Samenow is a clinical psychologist and author of Inside the Criminal Mind. He co-authored, with Dr. Samuel Yochelson, the highly influential book, The Criminal Personality. His understanding of mass shooters as loners has much to recommend.

Who are these people? “They are secretive individuals who do not want others to know them. They may be highly intelligent, achieve high grades in school, and even obtain responsible positions.” But their inability to establish bonds is undeniable, and that is critically important to understanding what makes them tick.

Significantly, the loner turned murderer possesses a personality that drives people away from him. “These are not likable individuals,” Samenow says. “No one seems to have known them well. They marginalize themselves, rejecting the world well before the world rejects them.”

Now consider what we know about Paddock. His profile matches up eerily well with Samenow’s observation.

Paddock had no relationship with his gangster father, and was estranged from his brothers. Moreover, he had few, if any, friends. Twice divorced, he had no children. Moreover, he was not in a position to make friends with co-workers: the last time he had a full-time job was 30 years ago.

Paddock never laid anchor anywhere. Growing up, his family moved from Iowa to Tucson to Southern California. His next door Florida neighbor, Donald Judy, said, “Paddock was constantly on the move, carrying a suitcase and driving a rental car,” noting that he “looked like he’d be ready to move at a moment’s notice.”

He certainly got around. He once owned 27 residences in four states, and bragged how he was a “world traveler” and a “professional gambler.” There is no evidence that his world traveling, which was done on cruise ships, ever involved someone else.

Paddock’s recreational pursuits were always solo enterprises. He owned single-engine planes and was a licensed fisherman—a popular solitary sport—in Alaska. His gambling was also a solitary experience. For instance, Paddock did not play the crap table, where gamblers interact. No, he only played video games by himself.

His brother Eric is distraught at his inability to understand Stephen. No matter, his observations about him shed much light on who he was.

Eric said Stephen got bored with flying planes, so he gave it up. It appears that he was looking for some excitement in his lonely life, which explains his gambling preference. “It has to be the right machine with double points,” Eric says, “and there has to be a contest going on. He won a car one time.”

Similarly, Eric notes that Stephen “was a wealthy guy, playing video poker, who went cruising all the time and lived in a hotel room.” He added that he “was at the hotel for four months one time. It was like a second home.” It would be more accurate to say that Stephen never had a home.

Eric recalls that Stephen excelled at sports but never played or joined organized clubs. “He wasn’t a team kind of guy.”

Stephen was not close to any of his brothers, and in the case of Patrick, the two had not seen each other for 20 years. This explains why Patrick did not initially recognize Stephen when his face was shown on TV.

Stephen’s Florida neighbor, Donald Judy, said that the inside of Paddock’s house “looked like a college freshman lived there.” There was no art on the walls, etc, just a bed, two recliners, and one dining chair.

Diane McKay lived next door to Paddock in Reno. “He was weird. Kept to himself. It was like living next door to nothing.” Indeed, “He was just nothing, quiet.”

The local sheriff from Mesquite, Nevada, where Paddock also lived, labeled him “reclusive.” One of Paddock’s neighbors agreed, noting that he was “a real loner.”

“Real loners” are not only unable to commit themselves to others, they are unable to commit themselves to God. So it came as no surprise that Paddock had no strong religious beliefs. It would have been startling to find out otherwise.

It’s all about the “Three Bs”: beliefs, bonds, and boundaries. As I found out when I compared cloistered nuns to Hollywood celebrities on measures of physical and mental health, as well as happiness (see The Catholic Advantage: How Health, Happiness and Heaven Await the Faithful), it is not the nuns who are unhealthy, or who suffer from loneliness, depression, and suicide.

“People who need people are the luckiest people in the world.” This is one of Barbra Streisand’s most famous refrains. She didn’t quite nail it. There is nothing lucky about needing people—it’s a universal appetite. People who have people are the luckiest people in the world. Paddock was not so lucky.

Most loners are not mass murderers, but most murderers are loners. In the case of Paddock, it appears that his antisocial personality, coupled with an acute case of ennui, or sheer boredom with life, found relief by lighting up the sky. Sometimes the mad search for causation can lead us astray; we should not overlook more mundane reasons why the socially ill decide to act out in a violent way.

Sadly, our society seriously devalues religion, celebrates self-absorption, and disrespects boundaries. This is not a recipe for well-being; rather, it is a prescription for mass producing Paddock-like people. We are literally planting the social soil upon which sick men like him feed.

Netflix recently aired a series that imputes the integrity of the Archdiocese of Baltimore for its handling of a miscreant priest from the 1960s. It relies heavily on conjecture and voodoo psychology. It must: it lacks the evidence to make its case. But it will surely feed the appetite of those ready to believe the worst about the Church.

The series focuses on the unresolved murder of Sister Cathy Cesnik. It invites the audience to consider whether she was killed to cover-up sexual abuse at the high school where she worked, Archbishop Keough in Baltimore.

Was the Archdiocese of Baltimore involved in the cover-up? The film dances around the issue, but the implication is clear. Importantly, there is no evidence to support its thesis, but who cares? The goal is to indict by innuendo.

No one disputes that Father Joseph Maskell sexually molested students at the high school in the 1960s. The question is whether he had anything to do with the murder of the nun. No one knows.

The docu-series relies heavily on the testimony of one woman. She says she was sexually abused by Father Maskell in the late 1960s. She also alleges that he passed her around to cops, businessmen, and local officials, all of whom abused her. She says she told this to Sister Cathy shortly before she disappeared. She also claims that Father Maskell took her to see the nun’s body, warning her about her fate should she squeal.

Here are some inconvenient facts that the series fails to acknowledge.

• The alleged victim never said a word to the officials in the Baltimore archdiocese after she was allegedly molested and after the priest allegedly threatened her. She never called the cops, either. Indeed, she never came forward until 1992.
• Sister Cathy’s body was found by two hunters at a Baltimore dump on January 3, 1970, almost two months after her last sighting. The Baltimore County Police began its investigation at this time.
• The case remained open and was extremely active through 1977. The police never got a single phone call from witnesses or victims alleging abuse from anyone associated with the Catholic Church.
• Neither the archdiocese nor the cops were made aware of Father Maskell’s abusive behavior until 1992. He was immediately removed from ministry for evaluation and treatment.
• The archdiocese reported the allegation to the civil authorities. That is when Father Maskell was investigated by the police.
• In 1994, after two other students subsequently make accusations against the priest, the archdiocese called the cops. Father Maskell was removed from public ministry.
• Detectives are asked to evaluate the charge that Father Maskell took the initial complainant to see Sister Cathy’s body, threatening her. They find inconsistencies in her story.
• After a lengthy police interview, Father Maskell is not considered a suspect and is let go. He dies in 2001.

This is obviously a sad story. But there is no evidence that the Archdiocese of Baltimore did anything wrong. Indeed, it did everything right.
Why did the accusing woman who is at the center of this story wait until the 1990s to report what allegedly happened in the 1960s? “Repressed memory,” we are told.

• The American Psychology Association studied this issue and concluded that “Most people who were sexually abused as children remember all or part of what happened to them.”
•The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, the Bible of the American Psychiatric Association, does not recognize the scientific validity of “repressed memories.”
• Researchers at Harvard Medical School concluded that “repressed memory” is a cultural creation having no basis in science.
• In 2012, clinical psychologists and authors from the University of Nevada, Reno, studied the literature on this subject and concluded that “there is a large amount of scientific evidence that clearly shows that repressed memories simply do not exist. Furthermore research studies involving traumatic events that have been verified indicate that people do not forget their trauma. Indeed, traumatic events are actually quite memorable.”

So what would the top brass at Netflix do if they learned of a similar accusation made by a former employee against one of its officials? Would they call the cops? Hopefully, they would. We don’t know. Would they immediately remove the accused from his job—the way the archdiocese did—or would they allow him to continue until the case was resolved? How would they react if we decided to do a movie about them?

Had those behind this Netflix documentary spent more time discussing the script with the Archdiocese of Baltimore before moving forward, they may have dropped it altogether. But they didn’t—they sought very little input. That is why “The Keepers” is so scurrilous: it indicts without evidence.

Bill Donohue comments on a Netflix documentary series, “The Keepers,” that will premiere on May 19:

Netflix is about to air a series that imputes the integrity of the Archdiocese of Baltimore for its handling of a miscreant priest from the 1960s. It relies heavily on conjecture and voodoo psychology. It must: it lacks the evidence to make its case. But it will surely feed the appetite of those ready to believe the worst about the Church.

The series focuses on the unresolved murder of Sister Cathy Cesnik. It invites the audience to consider whether she was killed to cover-up sexual abuse at the high school where she worked, Archbishop Keough in Baltimore.

Was the Archdiocese of Baltimore involved in the cover-up? The film dances around the issue, but the implication is clear. Importantly, there is no evidence to support its thesis, but who cares? The goal is to indict by innuendo.

No one disputes that Father Joseph Maskell sexually molested students at the high school in the 1960s. The question is whether he had anything to do with the murder of the nun. No one knows.

The docu-series relies heavily on the testimony of one woman. She says she was sexually abused by Father Maskell in the late 1960s. She also alleges that he passed her around to cops, businessmen, and local officials, all of whom abused her. She says she told this to Sister Cathy shortly before she disappeared. She also claims that Father Maskell took her to see the nun’s body, warning her about her fate should she squeal.

Here are some inconvenient facts that the series fails to acknowledge.

• The alleged victim never said a word to the officials in the Baltimore archdiocese after she was allegedly molested and after the priest allegedly threatened her. She never called the cops, either. Indeed, she never came forward until 1992.
• Sister Cathy’s body was found by two hunters at a Baltimore dump on January 3, 1970, almost two months after her last sighting. The Baltimore County Police began its investigation at this time.
• The case remained open and was extremely active through 1977. The police never got a single phone call from witnesses or victims alleging abuse from anyone associated with the Catholic Church.
• Neither the archdiocese nor the cops were made aware of Father Maskell’s abusive behavior until 1992. He was immediately removed from ministry for evaluation and treatment.
• The archdiocese reported the allegation to the civil authorities. That is when Father Maskell was investigated by the police.
• In 1994, after two other students subsequently make accusations against the priest, the archdiocese called the cops. Father Maskell was removed from public ministry.
• Detectives are asked to evaluate the charge that Father Maskell took the initial complainant to see Sister Cathy’s body, threatening her. They find inconsistencies in her story.
• After a lengthy police interview, Father Maskell is not considered a suspect and is let go. He dies in 2001.

This is obviously a sad story. But there is no evidence that the Archdiocese of Baltimore did anything wrong. Indeed, it did everything right.

Why did the accusing woman who is at the center of this story wait until the 1990s to report what allegedly happened in the 1960s? “Repressed memory,” we are told.

• The American Psychology Association studied this issue and concluded that “Most people who were sexually abused as children remember all or part of what happened to them.”
• The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, the Bible of the American Psychiatric Association, does not recognize the scientific validity of “repressed memories.”
• “Researchers at Harvard Medical School concluded that “repressed memory” is a cultural creation having no basis in science.
• In 2012, clinical psychologists and authors from the University of Nevada, Reno, studied the literature on this subject and concluded that “there is a large amount of scientific evidence that clearly shows that repressed memories simply do not exist. Furthermore research studies involving traumatic events that have been verified indicate that people do not forget their trauma. Indeed, traumatic events are actually quite memorable.”

So what would the top brass at Netflix do if they learned of a similar accusation made by a former employee against one of its officials? Would they call the cops? Hopefully, they would. We don’t know. Would they immediately remove the accused from his job—the way the archdiocese did—or would they allow him to continue until the case was resolved? How would they react if I decided to do a movie about them?

Had those behind this Netflix documentary spent more time discussing the script with the Archdiocese of Baltimore before moving forward, they may have dropped it altogether. But they didn’t—they sought very little input. That is why “The Keepers” is so scurrilous: it indicts without evidence.

Bill Donohue comments on a Netflix documentary series, “The Keepers,” that will premiere on May 19:

Netflix is about to air a series that imputes the integrity of the Archdiocese of Baltimore for its handling of a miscreant priest from the 1960s. It relies heavily on conjecture and voodoo psychology. It must: it lacks the evidence to make its case. But it will surely feed the appetite of those ready to believe the worst about the Church.

The series focuses on the unresolved murder of Sister Cathy Cesnik. It invites the audience to consider whether she was killed to cover-up sexual abuse at the high school where she worked, Archbishop Keough in Baltimore.

Was the Archdiocese of Baltimore involved in the cover-up? The film dances around the issue, but the implication is clear. Importantly, there is no evidence to support its thesis, but who cares? The goal is to indict by innuendo.

No one disputes that Father Joseph Maskell sexually molested students  at the high school in the 1960s. The question is whether he had anything to do with the murder of the nun. No one knows.

The docu-series relies heavily on the testimony of one woman. She says she was sexually abused by Father Maskell in the late 1960s. She also alleges that he passed her around to cops, businessmen, and local officials, all of whom abused her. She says she told this to Sister Cathy shortly before she disappeared. She also claims that Father Maskell took her to see the nun’s body, warning her about her fate should she squeal.

Here are some inconvenient facts that the series fails to acknowledge.

• The alleged victim never said a word to the officials in the Baltimore archdiocese after she was allegedly molested and after the priest allegedly threatened her. She never called the cops, either. Indeed, she never came forward until 1992.
• Sister Cathy’s body was found by two hunters at a Baltimore dump on January 3, 1970, almost two months after her last sighting. The Baltimore County Police began its investigation at this time.
• The case remained open and was extremely active through 1977. The police never got a single phone call from witnesses or victims alleging abuse from anyone associated with the Catholic Church.
• Neither the archdiocese nor the cops were made aware of Father Maskell’s abusive behavior until 1992. He was immediately removed from ministry for evaluation and treatment.
• The archdiocese reported the allegation to the civil authorities. That is when Father Maskell was investigated by the police.
• In 1994, after two other students subsequently make accusations against the priest, the archdiocese called the cops. Father Maskell was removed from public ministry.
• Detectives are asked to evaluate the charge that Father Maskell took the initial complainant to see Sister Cathy’s body, threatening her. They find inconsistencies in her story.
• After a lengthy police interview, Father Maskell is not considered a suspect and is let go. He dies in 2001.

This is obviously a sad story. But there is no evidence that the Archdiocese of Baltimore did anything wrong. Indeed, it did everything right.

Why did the accusing woman who is at the center of this story wait until the 1990s to report what allegedly happened in the 1960s? “Repressed memory,” we are told.

• The American Psychology Association studied this issue and concluded that “Most people who were sexually abused as children remember all or part of what happened to them.”
• The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, the Bible of the American Psychiatric Association, does not recognize the scientific validity of “repressed memories.”
• “Researchers at Harvard Medical School concluded that “repressed memory” is a cultural creation having no basis in science.
• In 2012, clinical psychologists and authors from the University of Nevada, Reno, studied the literature on this subject and concluded that “there is a large amount of scientific evidence that clearly shows that repressed memories simply do not exist. Furthermore research studies involving traumatic events that have been verified indicate that people do not forget their trauma. Indeed, traumatic events are actually quite memorable.”

So what would the top brass at Netflix do if they learned of a similar accusation made by a former employee against one of its officials? Would they call the cops? Hopefully, they would. We don’t know. Would they immediately remove the accused from his job—the way the archdiocese did—or would they allow him to continue until the case was resolved? How would they react if I decided to do a movie about them?

Had those behind this Netflix documentary spent more time discussing the script with the Archdiocese of Baltimore before moving forward, they may have dropped it altogether. But they didn’t—they sought very little input. That is why “The Keepers” is so scurrilous: it indicts without evidence.

Catholic League president Bill Donohue comments on Catholic bashing in Ireland:

Finally, Catholic bashing in Ireland may have peaked: a pushback is evident.

Leading the charge is Dublin Archbishop Diarmuid Martin. He is not counseling Catholics not to admit real instances of wrongdoing, only that the assaults on the Church have gone too far. He noted that embedded in the culture is a relentless drumming up of “the sins of [the Church’s] members, painting every individual and every moment in the history of the Church with the same condemnation.”

The Catholic bashing has been going on for far too long, so it is a relief to see this kind of pushback.

Martin spoke up for the clergy and the religious. “I notice a certain justified resentment among priests and religious [orders] and committed Catholics at somehow being unfairly under attack as they live out their faith and their ministry generously and with dedication. There is a sense in which they feel the time has come to stand up and respond.”

The Dublin archbishop is right: The piling on has gotten ugly. If Martin, the clergy, and the laity don’t stand up for themselves, they will only whet the appetite of their enemies to seek more vengeance.

Irish Central, which flagged this story, also cited an opinion piece in Irish Times by a history professor at University College Dublin, Diarmaid Ferriter.

He raised objections to the “cartoon history of the nuns” that has become such a sport in Ireland. “It is unfair and unhistorical to imply that nuns involved in this area [hospital care for women and children] were devoid of humanity and motivated by greed.” He added that the “‘bad nun’ version of Irish history needs to be challenged….”

These statements by Archbishop Martin and Ferriter are encouraging, but more needs to be done about challenging the many false accusations made against Irish nuns. There is a sick cause-and-effect scenario being played out. Bogus stories about “evil Irish nuns” feed the appetite of bigots, making certain that the next round of alleged horror stories will be swallowed whole.

One of those persons feeding the sharks is Catherine Corless, the Galway typist behind the “mass grave” hoax. More on her soon.