Check out Comment #116.
It never fails. Just when I think I've heard every conceivable insult against my person and my apostolate, here comes another one to prove my instincts wrong (it never takes very long between instances, either).
First I'm accused (usually by Lutherans or those non-Lutheran Protestants who fancy themselves experts on Luther) of being a Luther-hater and anti-Protestant and evil incarnate and all the rest. Then I'm accused of loving and being infatuated with Martin Luther so much that I have excommunicated myself and grossly compromised my Catholic beliefs. It's amazing what two different people will perceive in the very same thing (my book on Martin Luther), and the very same person (me!), ain't it?
First a couple sophist anti-Catholic Protestants say I ain't a real Catholic; then an anti-Catholic "traditionalist" Catholic who is more Catholic then the pope sez I ain't a real Catholic in good standing, cuz I just excommunicated myself. Shortly before that, one of his buddies claimed I was a wicked, deceitful enemy of Christ and of His Church. It's the hyper-literal, can't-see-the-forest-for-the-trees (and quite often, fuming angry) Pharisaical mentality: a sad failure not only of logical premises, but also of the imagination.
People of this sort (whether anti-Catholic Protestants or anti-Catholic "traditional" Catholics) just don't get it. If they are horrendously burdened with the task of having to analyze anything more subtle than a water buffalo or an elephant, they're out to sea. In fact, if they saw a whale while they were out to sea, they'd probably think it was a water buffalo.
To paraphrase G. K. Chesterton's humorous remark about critics and William Shakespeare (I'm sure he wouldn't mind, under the ludicrous circumstances, being a great advocate of the witty retort):
Dave Armstrong is quite himself; it is only some of his critics who have discovered that he was somebody else.
(Orthodoxy, 1908, ch. 2)