Sister Irene O’Connor – Bauhausfrau

February 16, 2026

“Evil is banal” but I say miracles are the real killer.

A rare synthetic gem is buried in the paneled basement of St. Anne’s. It glows upside-down in the dusty bulletins. Once delighted children have gone on to birth their own, ideally. Begotten, forgotten, at least to men.

Until a dual planet spins: one for us and them—grooves open to all for choosing. God speaks for Himself, but her channel sings praises for His little ones. Either way, just tap play, do you hear how the words hold that reverb?

Haunting fire, consume me next. Coarse habits turn radiant sometimes. Smoted then to windborne ash, out of dwindling garbage time, to kindle another Hallowing soul. Weird Spirit, do stay here, that we may only be Your medium.

Our Lady of the Moog, pray for us.