When Emperor Nero met St Peter

Rome, AD 66 (approx.)

St Luke, Reporter for EWTN, writes:

1. O Theophilus, it is indeed wearisome to write my words in numbered verses, but as you know, all writers of this day and age are doing so, and I shall not rebel.

2. It came to pass that Pope Peter and the Emperor Nero met in Rome, and spent five and seventy minutes together. Nero dozed for sixty minutes, and they spake for fifteen.

Where Peter is. And Nero.

3. Alas, I was not permitted to be present, and no official account of the meeting was released, so we cannot be sure what was said.

4. However, the Emperor Nero Josephus Robinetticus Bidenicus hath given some account of his words with Pope Peter, and no man dareth doubt their truth.

5. After greeting Peter, and sniffing his hair, Nero discussed weighty matters with him, such as his plans for a climate change conference in Pompeii thirteen years hence.

6. According to reports, the question of Nero's morals did not arise: the Great Fire of Rome, at which Nero played the Martius Haugenus anthem "Gather us in" on his lyre, causing terror among the populace, was not mentioned.

7. Likewise, the subsequent burning of Christians did not arise as a question that needed to be discussed.

"Build Back Better." In this picture we see a notorious lyre.

8. However, in the words of Nero himself, whom all must believe: "Pope Peter told me that I was a good Catholic, and that I should keep receiving Communion."

9. Indeed it is true that Peter's Letter to the Amoral Laetitians hath said that mass murder should not be a bar to receiving the Lord.

10. All we can say is that, following his meeting with Pope Peter, the President Nero hath redoubled his persecution of Christians, Chinese, Afghans, babies, etc. etc.

11. Indeed, Peter himself hath been crucified, Paul is on the "wanted" list, and I too am in deep trouble.

Written from the Catacombs.

What happened after Francis left

As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den, and laid me down in that place to sleep; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed...*

It was two weeks after the departure of Pope Francis from the chair of St Peter. In my dream it was not clear to me whether he had died, resigned, been carried off to the funny farm, or been arrested by the Swiss Guard. In any case, a conclave had been held and Cardinal Sarah was quickly elected Pope. Nobody wanted a Francis II, and even the Cupiches and Marxes realised that they could not get away with it.

Noisy popes? Who on earth did Cardinal Sarah have in mind?

Pope Pius XIII (as he now was) wasted no time in tidying up the mess left by his predecessor. When he emtered the papal apartments he removed all the Pachamama idols that were cluttering up the place and burned them in public - tschugguelling them into the Tiber left the risk that they might be fished out again. He made the possession of the Pachamama dolls an excommunicable offence - much to the distress of Austen Ivereigh, who had planned to give his nearest and dearest Pachamamas for Christmas.

No longer needed in the Catholic Church.

Then he turned his attention to some of Pope Francis's writings. Instantly he repealed Traditionis Custodes, much to the distress of Arthur Roche, who turned out to have backed the wrong horse. Uncle Arthur was taken away from the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments and sent back to his native Batley to sort out the problems of the schoolteacher who was in hiding after showing his class a cartoon of the Prophet Mohammed. We did not see him again.

Amoris Laetitia was next for the bonfire, and the Dubia were answered with a definite "No, yes, yes, yes, yes!" to the delight of the surviving cardinals, Vice-Popes Burke and Brandmüller.

"Synods?" said the new pope. "Who needs synods, let alone synods about synods? They're cancelled, and anyone seen trying to set up a synod will be severely disciplined by the new Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, now renamed the Inquisition once more."

A tense moment in discussions at the Batley Townswomen's Synod.

"A good morning's work," said Pius XIII. "I'm now going to visit Emeritus Pope Benedict for lunch, and see whether he has any more suggestions."

In the afternoon of the first day the new pope excommunicated Joe Biden and Nancy Pelosi, sacked Jeffrey Sachs, and laicised Fr James Martin LGBTSJ. "Francis bullied the Order of Malta, and the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate," he told his friends. "I have my sights on the Jesuits and their Satanic America magazine."

Then he sorted out the German bishops and turned his attention to China, and ...

Unfortunately, it was only a dream.

*John Bunyan.

Catholics keep out!

It is becoming increasingly obvious that Christians - and especially Catholics - are not welcome in public life, and should know that their rightful place is in hiding or on the scaffold.

Crime scene, as seen on television.

Midsomer Murders, episode 3019. Chief Inspector Barnaby (either the one with the crazy wife or the one with the boring dog, it doesn't matter) turns up with his usual jovial cry of "Hello, George, what have you got for me today?". The pathologist, Kate Wilding, gives him a puzzled glance and replies.

"Well Tom, or do I mean John? Anyway, you can see that this chap has had his nostrils stuffed with plutonium (as it is episode 3019 we are running out of original ways to kill people), and he has been dead about six weeks."

"Let me through, I'm a priest!"

An evil cackling priest walks by. Barnaby realises that this must be the criminal, but his contract says that he must wait until there have been another three murders before finally arresting him.

Next, the British Army turns up and asks to drive its tanks all over the place where the dead body is lying. "Don't you realise this is a crime scene? Go away!"

The general in charge replies, "But China has invaded Midsomer and we are the last line of defence!"

"This is still a crime scene. Go away!"

Crime scene, in reality.

A man is dying from stab wounds. The 999 emergency services are called, "Which service do you require: Fire, Priest, or Ambulance? There's no use calling the police, they're all out on gay pride marches."

In fact the priest is the last to arrive. At the crime scene there is already a blood-crazed assassin, several witnesses, an NHS troupe of nurses doing a dance to put on Youtube, and six policemen with alsatians who wandered in having heard reports that someone had been using the wrong pronouns.

A crime scene.

"Let me in, I'm Father Brown, a Catholic priest. I want to give the dead man the Last Rites. This is a fundamental part of the Catholic faith."

"Get out. This is a crime scene. We can't have it contaminated."

A CRASH! is heard as a sergeant in size-14 boots trips over the dying man.

"On second thoughts, Rev, I'm arresting you. On television it's always the priest wot dunnit."

"I want to question you about all those dead bodies in your churchyard."

The Accelerated Dying Legislation.

To their great credit, church leaders are fairly united in opposing the proposed "Yes, you can push your granny off a bus if she's rich enough and too confused to say 'No'" legislation. One exception is George Carey, star of Carey on Killing, the retired Christian who was once Archbishop of Canterbury. But they are put in their place by a learned professor, one Alice Roberts, who has contributed two brilliant pieces to this blog in the past, namely the amazing revelations that Miracles are just a bit... unlikely and Dead people don't come back to life.

Alice hits the nail with her head on the head.

She's got a good point, hasn't she? But we should go further. People with religious views, whether they be popes (no, he won't say anything helpful), bishops, priests, or laymen - even Anglicans devoted to this blog, such as Giles Fraser and Peter Hitchens - SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO COMMENT. We welcome atheist leaders like, er, little Alice in Blunderland, BECAUSE THEY HAVE THE RIGHT OPINIONS.

Got the message, Catholics? You're not wanted. Ask Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I. And any Anglicans - or even atheists - who agree with you about the morality of Accelerated Suicide - why, you're just closet Catholics! Get lost!

"It's no use complaining now. Mr Gates's App said you'd consented to dying. Don't worry, we'll get the bug fixed in the next release."

Cowboys and Indians in the Catholic Church

Usually in games of cowboys and Indians we take the side of the cowboys, but today we're changing sides and supporting the Indians. Archbishop Charles Chaput, whose Potawatomi name is "the wind that rustles the leaves of the tree" has dealt a mortal blow to Austen, the Lone Whinger, and his sidekick Massimo.

The wind that rustles the poison ivereigh.

In a brilliant showdown the big chief has rushed to the defence of the fair maid Ewtn, daughter of Mother Angelica, who was under siege from a gang of misguided cowboys. Ewtn's supporters fought back with bows and arroyos, but a massacre looked likely, especially when Wild Joe Bergoglio and Jessie James Martin waded into the battle, guns blazing.

The Lone Whinger is said to be very upset - as well he should be - since Big Chief Chaput endorsed his first book Wild Joe Bergoglio, the fastest gun in the West while also describing it as "grandiosely titled and with a light seasoning of snark". (Austen was having an off day and ran out of snark.) Apparently, it's his best book, as well.

The Lone Whinger's supporters rush to his defence.

Whereas Austen is a courtier of Wild Joe Bergoglio, his sidekick Massimo is enamoured of Buffalo Biden, the "holy man", hilariously saying "the parallel between Biden and 'Doc' Roncalli certainly offers hope from a historical point of view". Chaput is having none of this, and talks contemptuosuly of Biden's "slash and burn" massacres.

Finally, other members of the "Magniloquent Seven", such as the gringos, Spadaro and Figueroa, are also in line for a scalping. This time the Indians are the good guys, so go Chaput!

It's Pachamama Day!

Today has seen great rejoicing in the Catholic Church worldwide, as we remember the second anniversary of the drowning of the heathen idol Pachamama in the Tiber.

Baron Alexander von Tschugguel zu Tramin, who sank the Pachamama Fleet.

It was October 21st 1805 2019 when it became clear that Christian civilization was being menaced by the godless forces of the Francis Revolution and that a major battle was inevitable. So Admiral Lord Tschugguel sailed his fleet to Santa Maria in Traspontina, overcame the army of Pachamama under Admiral "le nain" Ivereigh, captured their primitive idols, and sank them.

From then onwards Emperor Napoglio struggled to control his church, although he made valiant attempts to dominate the world with tyrannical decrees such as Tradition est Coupée and a plague of demented synods. He frequently employed the motto "L'église, c'est moi!" but his days were numbered, although it took ten long years of strife before he met his Waterloo. After one last battle, Napoglio was finally deposed and exiled to St Helena. The monarchy was restored in the form of Le Roi Sarah.

Napoglio pines for his Pachamama dolls.

Good Samaritan arrested for looting

A correction.

Our star reporter Lambchop breaks the news.

We are grateful to Pope Francis, the celebrated climatologist, left-wing political agitator and part-time Catholic, for correcting the account in St Luke of the activities of the Good Samaritan ("Sam" to his friends). It seems that this well-known parable did not turn out exactly as reported by St Luke, and - like the Beatitudes, the Lord's Prayer and other Biblical errors - it required updating. Count your blessings that this was done by papal decree, and not another synod!

It seems that, after delivering the mugging victim to the inn, and binding up his wounds, Sam reacted in the only proper way. He embarked on a campaign of violence, setting fire to buildings, attacking random people who had nothing to do with the muggers, looting shoe shops (medieval paintings often show the Good Samaritan dressed in a pair of brand new Adidas trainers), and generally harassing anyone who got in his way.

"My mates and I will get them for this. And anyone else within 50 miles."

Other prominent figures from Jesus's parables also turn out to have led complicated lives. The man with the lost sheep, having found the poor animal, then went round to his neighbour's farms and set fire to their barns. The prodigal son, offered some fatted calf by his long-suffering father, accused him of letting his animals cause climate change, with the immortal words "You have stolen my childhood and your dreams."

Lazarus, in Abraham's bosom, mocked Dives as a "self-absorbed promethean neo-pelagian." The sower who was sowing seed, once he had finally worked out where the good soil was, ripped it up and threw it in the face of passers-by as a way of showing that he was a true custodian of tradition. Then he screamed at them because they were cross with him.

We are looking forward to Pope Francis's new encyclical Parabolae Perditae or Parables Lost, which will correct and re-interpret all the Biblical parables.

The second ever synod

All throughout history momentous decisions have been made by means of synods (and sometimes by synods about synods). We have already seen that the very first synod involved Adam, Eve and the Serpent, and that by a process of discernment it was agreed that the divine commandment ("do not eat the fruit of this tree") did not always apply, and that doctrine might evolve. By a process of discernment one might come to the conclusion that God had really meant "tuck in!"

So, twenty years later there was a second synod. Eden II, some called it, although it was held slightly outside the garden where Eden I had taken place. Mr Genesis taketh up the story.

Cain explaineth the decision of the synod to his brother Abel.

1. It came to pass that Cain, son of Adam, and his wife Awan held a synod.

2. For Adam, he who was the Head of the Church, had decreed that people should meet in small groups and discuss the teachings of the Church, and whether they might prefer some other teachings.

3. Thus Cain had called a synod on murder, that it might be decided whether murder was really a sin.

4. For, as he said, "My brother Abel vexeth me. For the Lord preferreth the firstlings of his flock to my offering of a low-fat vegan alternative."

5. And Awan replied, "Are you not your brother's keeper? How then may you slay him?"

6. Cain answered unto her, "This is something that we may decide by means of the synod. For hath not our father Adam given unto us the authority to consider what is good, and what is not good?"

7. "It is true," agreed Awan, "that we are told always to reject that which is old, that which is traditional, and that which changeth not. So I must agree with you, O Cain."

8. Thus it was decided that murder was no longer a sin: so Cain went out into the fields and slew his brother Abel.

9. And Adam saw that Abel was slain, and grieved over this. But then he spake out, saying, "Who am I to judge?"

10. And finally Cain went out from the Lord's presence and dwelt in the land of Sy-Nod, East of Eden.

Awan urgeth Cain to move to Germany and become a bishop.

How to receive papal guests

Yes, it's another one in our series "How to be a good pope", containing top tips for those readers who may end up with the big job without having a clue how to do it. There are no training courses available, not even Youtube videos, so future popes tend to come here for advice.

As a pope you will naturally receive visitors wishing to benefit from your wisdom, to give you a piece of their mind, or simply to get a bit of free publicity (thinking of you, Austen, Greta, Fr Jimbo...) Let's have a few case studies.

Tip 1: Do not scream "heretic" and call for the Inquisition.

The Anglican bishop of Norwich, Graham Usher, drops in, bearing sumptuous gifts, namely a jar of honey (formerly the property of Richard Dawkins) and a bee facemask (no, this is not something to protect bees from Covid-19). Now, this is the bishop in whose cathedral there was a helter-skelter two years ago and a plastic dinosaur skeleton this year. What can his Lordship possibly want? Is he going to advise you to set up a helter-skelter in the Sistine Chapel, or a dinosaur skeleton in St Peter's Basilica (a nasty jibe against the priests who used to be allowed to offer Masses there)? Or is it simply that he expects you to liven up the tombs of the saints by surrounding them with beehives?

Have a quick photo opportunity, and send him packing. Keep the honey, though, and wear the mask at your next papal audience to frighten the pilgrims.

Tip 1 (bis): Do not scream "heretic" and call for the Inquisition.

The Wicked Witch of the West is your next visitor. Another one seeking a photo opportunity, and perhaps a papal endorsement of her activities. You instantly find common ground with her - you both hate the Big Bad Orange Man - and you get on like a house on fire. Unfortunately you can't accede to her wishes that you donate a few million dollars to Planned Parenthood - Vatican finances are a bit rocky at the moment - but she has your blessing.

You hear later that she attended a Mass in Rome and was booed out. Well, that's been happening to you quite a lot recently, especially since you declared war on the entire pre-1960s Catholic Church - so you can sympathise.

And now some visitors you definitely don't want to welcome.

Tip 2: Set the papal poodles (Antonio and Austen) on unwanted guests..

Cardinal Tao has arrived all the way from China, and wants an audience with you. There is absolutely nothing in this for you - no photo opportunity, just a 30-minute lecture on why it is a bad idea to let a totalitarian dictatorship run the Catholic Church in China. Pretend you're out. Pretend you're ill. Don't bother to pretend, just lock the doors.

Tip 2 (bis): Set the papal poodles (Antonio and Austen) on unwanted guests..

Finally, one of those irritating Dubia cardinals is still trying to get in to see you. It's been nearly five years since four of them wrote a letter asking you to clarify Catholic teaching by answering five simple Yes/No questions. As a Jesuit, clarifying teaching would be unprecedented behaviour, and make you very unpopular with the Superior, Arturo Sausage. Clear off, Ray.

Which reminds me...

According to Wikipedia, the gentleman above is called a Dubia Roach. The name may remind you that there's a great fan of yours at the Congregation for Divine Worship who is looking for a red hat in an extra large fitting. Indeed, he recently said "the post-Vatican II missal of Paul VI is the 'richest' the Church has ever produced." Come on, invite him round for tea (order lots of cinnabons) and give him what he wants!

Pope Francis snubs Glasgow

The Climate Change^TM world is reeling in horror today with the news that Pope Francis will not be attending November's prestigious COP26 conference in Glasgow. In his place, he will be sending Vice-Pope Parolin, with various useful bits of advice such as "A Glasgow kiss is a head-butt, Pietro, so don't ask for one in Mass just before the Agnus Dei" and "Deep-fried Mars Bars are so disgusting that only Cardinal Dolan will eat them."

Naturally, there has been speculation about the Pope's reasons for crying off. Was it when he heard that Climate Change^TM had not actually reached Glasgow and the weather in November will be (in the local vernacular) "cald enow ta freeze the haggis off a poop, ya ken"?

Pope Francis shows an admiring audience how to save Mother Earth.

The Holy Father had already explained that he was attending in a purely secular capacity, and would not be creating any Scottish saints, attending Masses (och aye, use of the Scottish vernacular would have been a good way to prove its superiority over Latin, the noo), or even handing out Pachamama dolls. As a purely secular pope, he would have been attending as Jorge Mario Bergoglio (Vatican State), wearing a simple business suit made from the wool of low-carbon Argentinian llamas. But it was not to be.

Another theory to explain the Pope's absence is his well-known fear of St Greta of Thunberg. After her moving speech to the Swedish toddler group this week, where the words "blah blah blah" led to riotous applause, Pope Francis is naturally nervous in case she accuses him of stealing her dreams and childhood or describes his finely-crafted empty words as "blah blah blah". As he explains, "I've been getting enough of that sort of language from the Catholic Church ever since I decided to kick the TLM brigade in the teeth."

Greta is not the first person to wish that the pope would go on strike.

Well, so be it. COP26 will have to survive with Parolin, and without the pope jetting in we must expect Mother Earth to die just a little bit sooner. As St Greta puts it "HOW DARE YOU?"