Zen and the art of Michael Lofton maintenance

The story so far:

You are a middle-aged man with a big head and a small beard, running a popular and lucrative website that some days has more than three viewers. Then guess what! Some jumped-up cardinal says cruel things about you!

It is your DUTY to put this Zen chap in his place!

This old man from Japan (memo: check this) dares to criticise Fiducia Supplicans - you know, that very important magisterial letter that told us that homosexual couples should be /blessed/ /shown the door/ /kissed/ /sent off to join the Jesuits/ ... well, we're not sure what, as the rules change every day. Still, priests can probably get away with blessing them provided that they cross their fingers while doing so, do not take more than 16.314 seconds over the task, and provided that the parties do not form a couple, but a pair, or possibly a brace, duo, or dyad. And the blessing must not look like a wedding - so no white dresses, bridesmaids, flowers, crying, or Wagner's immortal tune "Here comes the bride, short, fat and wide."

"I'll bet that this jumped-up cardinal doesn't even have tattoos all over his body!"

Well, you've got this Zen chap over a barrel now. He needs to be laicised, put on the rack, and (worst of all) forced to watch 200 hours of videos from your website "Reason and Theology - only joking, folks!" For he is clearly denying the Hermitage of Continuity, Vatican II, and the divinity of Pope Francis, and he is probably a Buddhist anyway, what with a crazy name like Zen.

Ha ha ha! Serve him right!

But HE BITES BACK. He tells people to stop wasting their "Michael's Pence" on your website, and instead to find a grown-up who knows what he's talking about!

You aren't standing for that! STEP 1: kick the cat. STEP 2: well, we'll think of something.

Next week: Cardinal Zen tells us what he thinks of Austen Ivereigh, Fr James Martin SJ, and "speedy" Cupich - who has just broken the record for the fastest ever Eucharistic procession.

Cardinal Cupich leads the procession (cue Yakety-Sax music).

We is comin to Enggland

We was rellaxin in Anti Moly's huose in Stickybeak Street one evenin. I was queitly readin Damain Thopmson's blogg and wonderin whevver UKIP was saved, and Anti Moly was watchin her favuorite programm on de telly, which is Benny Hill cos he does de Yakety-Sax music at de end where he gets chased by lotsa girls. She fuond it much more soothin dan de prevviuos programm, which was an interveiw wiv Cradinal Pell abuot de menttal probblems dat old ladies suffer - when she saw him she screemed "Woeful!" and frew her flase teeth at de telly.

We gotta knock on de door and a strangley familair cosstume lawman was standin there.

"G'day, g'day, g'day!" he said, dis bein wot Austrialan police is trained to say. "Molly Badnite alias Judy Headache, we has been gettin dozens of compliants about you bein a  public niusance. Why doesnt you go away for a while, so dat we aint forced to arrest you?"

So my dere Anti decided dat we wuold vissit Enggland, which is where Anti's ancesstors came from until dey was sent off to Bottany Bay. We made a list of all de poeple we wuold try and visit, dat Moly has said she reely admires, such as Damain Thopmson, St Cuttley, Richard Dakwins, Tina Beattie, de Duchess Camila, Tom Chivvers, and so on. We got a good range of celebritties dere, includdin de devuot and saintly like Cuttley and Thopmson, de loonies like Beattie and Dakwins, and de braney types like Chivvers and Camila.

However, Anti gave me a warnin about Enggland, as we walked down de street to de shops: "Dem Pommie bastards is all racists, Eccles. Dey aint multicultured and tollerant like we is." Kickin a passin abboriginal wot had strayed onto de pavement, she continnued: "Look at dere spellin, for instance. Dey is racist cos dey tells off Americans for spellin baddly." Pussonally, I aint never had a probblem wiv spellin, so I didnt reely understand wot she was gettin at.

Dat's a pitcher of my Anti Moly in a bad mood, some poeple says dat she ressembles Dr Jonhson slightly. Sometimes I feels like Boswell takin down de immotral words of Jonhson, cos my Anti never reely stops producin purls of wissdom, like de epiggrams above. I admits dat dey is a bit repettitive, like when she says "ROFL" half a dozen times. I don't fink Jonhson said "ROFL" except on specail occasoins. Also dere is a limmit to how many times you can prettend dat "Such is life" is a new and strikin obversation on de humman conditoin. De way of a boigrapher aint so easy.

Our freind Damain Thopmson have got a new book out soon, which Bosco and me helped him write when he visitted us in Lost Angels. Anti Moly finks we mihgt go and see him sing coppies of it, but she promissed she wont take a few locks of his hair as souvennirs, like she did wiv poor old Cuttley.

In Enggland dey got a delickacy called an Eccles cake. I hopes it is better dan de Austrialan delickacy known as de Moly cake, which is pretty repullsive, frankly. Eatin dem widgety grubbs is an acquirred taste.