This is a street map of the beautiful city of Quebec. If you have not visited, I highly recommend this lovely, historically-rich, little merger of pre-revolutionary France and the New World.

Anyway, look at the map. Nearly every street is named after a Catholic saint, or Our Lord or Lady under various titles. There are Catholic Churches throughout. The history of the city is Catholic. The population is Catholic– or rather, it was.

Do you know what a neutron bomb is? It is a nuclear weapon that limits the blast damage but ups the radioactivity so that maximum people are killed while leaving buildings and infrastructure largely intact. And the best metaphor I can give you for Quebec is that it feels like it was hit by a neutron bomb. The Catholics are all gone, but they left their stuff behind. Lots of Catholic stuff, beautiful churches, but precious few Catholics. Quebec threw all that off a long time ago. Like others, the Sixties marked the visible beginning, but the Quebecois embraced the destruction with a fervor that would have impressed their revolutionary ancestors.

And this denuding of Catholic culture is of course happening everywhere, as is the collapse of Western Civilization at large. Europe imports its conquerors. The fifth column of pagans and communists and worse within all Western countries tries to impose national suicide as policy. The hordes are at the gates, within the gates. And in the hierarchy of the Catholic Church we are run by sodomites, non-believers and the weak. The Church has ceded the field of charity, morality and society to atheistic governments. Even that is not the worst. Our own leaders are wrecking the edifice of religion itself.

Back to Quebec. There is a museum in the city called, somewhat portentously, The Museum of Civilization. Among other exhibits, many of which are very fine, there is one chronicling the casting off of Catholicism by the Quebecois. I needn’t mention the tone is celebratory. When my family and I saw this exhibit, there was a set that explained the foolish and superstitious items made use of by these Catholics. One mannequin was wearing a brown scapular, which the exhibit placard helpfully explained was worn by Catholics “until the mid-1950s”, in the belief that it would guarantee entrance into heaven, much as the ancients put coins on the eyes of corpses to pay the ferryman to the afterlife. One of my children said, “But we still wear scapulars.”

Yes, we do. The few that survive the neutron bomb in Greater Quebec.

Our enemies would love to see everything we hold dear remembered– if remembered at all– in a quaint museum exhibit of what was. Pray to stand fast against them and all the neutron bombs headed our way.