From Lion to Lapdog — What The Kurgan’s Interview with Rachel Fulton Brown Reveals About His Double Standards
For years, The Kurgan has postured as the internet’s most fearless defender of “real Catholicism.” He’s denounced everyone from popes to Protestant grandmas with the same swaggering confidence: they're all apostates, cowards, or heretics—unless, of course, they happen to be his friends. Then suddenly, nuance, admiration, and strategic silence enter the chat.
One of the clearest examples of this selective boldness comes from his interview with Professor Rachel Fulton Brown, a faithful Catholic academic and Marian theologian. I remember watching this exchange when it first aired. His live chat—filled with loyal followers—urged him to confront her about her Vatican II allegiance, which he publicly condemns as heretical.
But instead of standing firm in the courage he so often claims, something surprising happened:
The lion became a lapdog.
🪞 The Great Confrontation That Never Was
This was his moment. He had a self-identified Catholic intellectual right in front of him. She wasn't hiding behind pseudonyms or internet anonymity. She teaches, writes, and prays as a faithful daughter of the Catholic Church—the very Church The Kurgan declares to be a false, apostate shell.
And what did he do?
Absolutely nothing.
He nodded. He praised. He smiled. He asked vague, meandering questions. He subtly steered the conversation away from any controversy. His fingers—so quick to pull the trigger on social media bans and insults—couldn’t so much as twitch toward challenge.
This was not theological courage. It was brand protection.
🕰️ TIMESTAMPED MOMENTS OF RETREAT
⏱️ 3:20 – Introductions and Friendly Tone
“You’ve written very movingly about Mary and I think your book is fantastic. It’s… it’s quite devotional.”
🔎 Observation: Instead of treating Rachel as a supposed representative of a “false church,” he opens with glowing praise. No challenge to her status as a Catholic. No mention of the invalidity of the post-Vatican II Church.
⏱️ 16:42 – On the Rosary and Devotion
“Your explanation of the Rosary was just amazing... it really helped me reframe how I think about it.”
🔎 Observation: He praises her Marian theology—while elsewhere mocking Catholics who honor Mary within the Church he says is invalid. If he truly believed she was outside the Church, this would be a moment for confrontation. But instead, he learns from her.
⏱️ 27:05 – On Her Teaching and Students
“That’s really important work you’re doing.”
🔎 Observation: This is the same man who mocks women in academia as barren, bossy, or misled—unless, apparently, they’re sitting across from him and praising the Virgin Mary.
⏱️ 45:17 – No Mention of Sedevacantism
Kurgan launches into a short tangent about modern institutions… but never brings up the supposed invalidity of the papacy or her Church.
🔎 Observation: He dances around his core thesis, refusing to state publicly what his followers clamor for—a bold rebuke of a so-called “false Church.” Why?
🧠 The Psychology of the Pass
Let’s be honest: this isn’t the first time The Kurgan has done this.
He claims Protestantism is satanic. He believes the Vatican II Church is false. He mocks Novus Ordo Catholics as deluded. But when it comes to his friend Vox Day—a Protestant who rejects the papacy entirely—he’s practically a spiritual cheerleader. “Smarter than most priests,” he says.
Somehow, heresy doesn’t apply when you're clever, successful, or part of his digital tribe.
Rachel Fulton Brown, like Vox, enjoys a status The Kurgan craves: public respect, academic credibility, and a wider following. Challenging her openly would risk a backlash. And more importantly, it might expose the flimsy foundation of his theology. So instead of being the roaring truth-teller he plays online, he becomes... careful. Gentle. Apologetic, even.
📺 Image Management Over Doctrinal Integrity
The Kurgan’s behavior proves a simple point: he applies sedevacantism not as a consistent theological position, but as a tool to attack the low-hanging fruit. It’s the internet version of schoolyard bullying—brave against the weak, silent before the strong.
He has plenty of fire for anonymous commenters, bloggers, or middle-aged deacons who ask basic questions about his marital history. But when seated across from a woman with credentials, knowledge, and grace?
He shrinks.
The same man who rants about “trannies, Freemasons, and Novus Ordo clowns” can’t even say to one Catholic woman: “I believe your Church is false.”
Because deep down, he knows she would answer him with composure, clarity, and probably truth. And that is something he cannot risk.
🎭 The Mask Slips
The interview with Rachel Fulton Brown should be required viewing for anyone still under the illusion that The Kurgan is a fearless warrior for truth. It’s the Wizard of Oz moment—when the terrifying projection fizzles out and we see a man behind a curtain, pulling levers, hoping you won’t notice how quiet he becomes around people who can see through the act.
He performs for his followers. But when outside his echo chamber, he discovers nuance. Suddenly, “heretics” become “respected scholars.” Mockery turns to admiration. Roars become purrs.
🪞 Final Thought
If you are truly a warrior for truth, you don’t whisper your objections behind closed doors. You speak them face to face, with love, clarity, and courage.
And yet — when the moment came to say to Rachel Fulton Brown what he says to his followers every week… he didn’t.
Because maybe, deep down, he knows she’s not the heretic.
And maybe, deep down, he fears he might be.
Big Takeaway:
The Kurgan doesn’t preach Catholic truth. He performs it—loudly, selectively, and always with an eye toward who’s watching. The interview with Professor Rachel Fulton Brown wasn’t just an awkward dodge—it was an unmasking. And once you’ve seen it, you can’t unsee it.
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