The diocese of Arundel and Brighton rejoices

Sunday 5th July 2015 will surely be the most exciting day that Christendom has seen since Pentecost, A.D. 28 (or whenever it was)! 50 years of Arundel and Brighton - the diocese that's a model for Catholics everywhere! Especially since the year 2000, when its bishops have included two spiritual giants of this age - or indeed of any age - Cormac Murphy-O'Connor, the eminence grise who runs the Catholic Church behind the scenes, and Kieran Conry, once tipped to be the next pope but three!

Two spiritual giants discuss spiritual things.

You thought I was going to use that photo of the two of them looking shifty, didn't you? Admit it. Well, maybe later.

Crowds of people will be heading to the Amex Stadium in Falmer, Brighton. This in itself is something of a miracle, as the place is normally used by Brighton and Hove Albion football team: thus the stadium remains empty for weeks on end. The entire Catholic population of Surrey and Sussex is encouraged to trek over there, and no doubt there will be special "Catholic special" trains laid on. So bad luck if you were thinking of going to Mass in your local church: your priest is under instructions to get his football boots on and trek out to the Amex Stadium.

What may happen if all the priests are away for the day.

Now, let's see what giants of Catholicism will be turning up for the football match. Cormac, yes, hard to keep him away really; not Kieran, as far as I can tell, but who knows? He doesn't seem to have moved out yet. And the two key speakers, who will no doubt wish to encourage the faithful Catholics of the South Coast are...

Have a guess, go on. The Pope? No, too busy giving interviews. A nearby bishop of distinction (+Egan of Portsmouth, maybe?) No. Bill Gardner, formerly of the Argus, and now employed by the Telegraph in its relentless "dumbing-down" campaign? No, be serious.

The first guest is the great Rowan Williams! Er, wasn't he until recently the Archbishop of Canterbury? Wouldn't that make him an Anglican, not a Catholic? Yes, I think so.

Definitely an Anglican.

And the second guest is the even greater Timothy Radcliffe! Yes, he is a Catholic, of the slightly ludicrous variety, being known for his public opposition to the Church’s teaching on homosexuality. Well that will go down well in Brighton, no doubt, although not with many Catholics.

Fr Tim Radical does his Al Jolson impersonation.

It could have been worse. So far Mo Ansar has not been invited. Or Richard Dawkins. Or Tina Beattie. And it's not too late to ask Fr Ray Blake to take over the running of the event. Or me, for that matter.

And finally...

The picture we've all been waiting for.

The Fall and Rise of Damian Thompson

I have long watched the career of Damian "blood-crazed ferret" Thompson with interest - indeed I contributed to the comments section of his "Holy Smoke" Telegraph blog as "Eccles", the brother of the idiot "St Bosco", until I was banned. Then I contributed again as "ThisIsNotEccles" - but the moderators were not fooled by my subtlety and I was soon banned again. Later I was cunningly "Incongito" - this was in the days before I got a secretary, Ecclesiam, to help me with the typing - but that didn't last long either... Anyway, the blog you're reading would probably not be here, were it not for my response to the activities of Brother Bosco on Damian's blog.

Supporters of Bosco protest at his banishment from Damian's blog.

As I have recorded elsewhere on this blog, Damian's blog was originally full of religious news and discussion, hence the nickname "Holy Smoke". Later, however, a distinct dumbing-down was noticed, especially after Damian started to write a Saturday column in the Telegraph. Less frequent were the references to Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor or the Ordinariate, and more frequent the mentions of cupcakes, custard, the pianist Gladys Mills, and the actress Noele Gordon. Occasionally, there were snippets of religious gossip, such as the plots against the Nuncio, and the prediction that Fr Alban McCoy would become the next (Catholic) Bishop of Leeds. This event has yet to come to pass.

Damnit, Damian! I'm a doctor, not a bishop!

Finally, however, Damian parted company "amicably" with the Telegraph, as we have recorded already; Jason the Mekon, ruler of the Treens of northern Venus, was brought in to dumb-down the newspaper further. Luckily Bryony Gordon and Bill Gardner, formerly of the Brighton Argus - and who better to write about Dull and Boring Day? - are still there to back up the few grown-up writers remaining at the Telegraph, such as Tim Stanley and Tom Chivers.

Gardner of the Argus's greatest scoop.

So what of Damian? Of course he was still doing casual journalism for the Catholic Herald and the Spectator, but otherwise he was alone in the world with his collection of 10 million CDs, his Gladys Mills piano, his royalties from the Fix - soon to be a major blockbuster starring Tom Cruise and Cameron Diaz - and a significant pay-off from the Telegraph.

Damian received a substantial "Golden Cupcake" from the Telegraph.

Well, a few weeks later we learned that Damian had been given a real job at the Spectator. Of course, he had to begin at the bottom, as the tea-boy, but we all have to start somewhere, and the senior Spectator staff appreciated having their tea poured out by someone who could talk knowledgeably about Wagner, custard, Islam and of course Catholicism as he helped them to sugar. Promotion was inevitable: like the chap in H.M.S. Pinafore who "polished up that handle so carefullee, that now he is the Ruler of the Queen's Navee", we could sing about Damian, "At making tea so good an operator, that now he is an Ass. Ed. of the great Spectator". An Ass. Ed. is nothing to do with donkeys, but is an Associate Editor, which is a very grand position indeed.

Cristina Odone is called in to help Damian interview a new tea-boy (R).

So the story has a happy ending, and Damian is blogging on religious matters again at the Spectator's Coffee House - or Custard House, as it is to be renamed. In-depth articles are appearing:

Bravo, Justin Welby! Much better than Rowan Williams! (even Anglicans get it right sometimes, eh?)

Fr Jean-Marie Charles-Roux - the priest with the William Hartnell hairstyle (ah, comments on hairstyles make me nostalgic for the old Telegraph days) and

Even the atheist left realise that Richard Dawkins is a bigot (a bit of an open goal, that one).

Ad multos bloggos, Damian. Will I be allowed to comment on your posts though?

The Abbot of Amboise, a lookalike of Fr Charles-Roux.

The Pilgrim's Ogress 4 - the guilt of Titus' Grandma

Continued from Part 3

Eccles's Anti Moly takes up the tale.

After my stupid nephew escaped from the Tablet headquarters in Hammersmith, he wanted to go to Blogfen, a woeful traddy parish somewhere near Sidcup. Eccles had heard that there was a meeting there in honour of Titus' Grandma, to which Catholic bloggers were invited. My nephew somehow thought that he would be welcome.

This is Titus, but we never met his Grandma.

It was quite difficult to get to Blogfen, because our donkey, Micky, carrying the emergency gin supplies, wasn't allowed on buses or trains. Also, Eccles wanted to go incognito, as he had heard that a lunatic from Croydon was out for his blood; so he dressed up as a clown and pretended to be his brother Bosco. We missed the religious events, but arrived in time for the party.

Our donkey, also in disguise.

The event was very strange. There was an old man called "Lofty" present, who said he had come along in order to shut down as many blogs as possible. He also had an interesting theory, based on turning over several pages of St Luke's Gospel at once, that Jesus was only on the Earth for one week - Born on a Monday, Baptised on Tuesday, Retreated on Wednesday, Did His ministry on Thursday, Crucified on Friday, Rose on Saturday, Ascended on Sunday. Lofty spent most of the party exchanging scowls with someone they called the "LMS Chairman", and in the end the two of them went outside for a punch-up and never came back.

Eccles asked me to republish this photo of Basil Foltus as a young man.

Eccles says he will always look at Tina Beattie in a new light, as a result of the Blogfen party. As a leading Catholic thinker, she had come to the meeting, and Eccles, who is a little infatuated with her, asked her to dance. It was woeful seeing "luvvly Tina" and my idiot nephew Eccles tango-ing to a Gregorian chant, but this was supposed to be an occasion for getting to know new people.

Hans Küng was there too, and I thought he and I might dance, so I went up to him to ask. Silly me, it was his statue! Apparently Fr Finigan, the host of the party, had been given a copy of the original statue, and had not yet found a good home for it. Well, after a bottle or two of gin, it was an easy mistake for me to make.

Woeful - this man refused to dance with me.

Several more traddy bloggers were also present, many from the Brighton area. I remember talking to a man called Bones; he had come with his friend Blakey from Brighton, who kept saying "I 'ate you, Gardner", although we never discovered who this Gardner man was.

Bones (with an unusual cross) and Blakey.

But the person I remember best, because he talked for three hours without interruption, was someone they called "The Archbishop of Corby". I jotted down a few gems of his conversation, such as, "Make sure you understand the question you're asking, Ma'am, but it seems you prefer a black and white answer to a labyrinth of conditional logic gates you won't even acknowledge, as it's a question of objective disordering circumstances and Noachide/natural moral law, exposing your ignorance of intention/motive and circumstantial factors." This was in response to "Would you like another cup of tea, your Grace?" from a lady in a mantilla.

Sitting on the naughty chair.

Ah well, I slipped under the table shortly after that, and don't remember much more. Such is life, eh? What's more, they played Gregorian chant all afternoon, and not the music I wanted to dance to. Woeful.

This is the sort of music I prefer.

To be continued by another author.

Dawkins comes to dinner

The amateur theologian, Professor Richard Dawkins, has said that it was now possible to go to a dinner party and assume that no one was religious.

I assure you, Professor Dawkins, that I really am religious.

The explanation, of course, is simple: Richard is never invited to the sort of dinner party where he might meet people whose views would upset him. Since one of the missions of this blog is to help Richard Dawkins on his road to being saved, we invited him to dinner.

Our French cook, who had been in Genoa, prepared us a dish he called Shellfish Gênes, which we knew would go down well with the learned Professor.

So what other guests should we invite? We thought of Stephen Fry. After throwing up, we stopped thinking of him. No, we wanted people who would challenge Dawkins with orthodox religious views.

Kieran Conry - going bananas.

Although malicious people said that Kieran had sold himself for a mess of Pease Pottage (a witty joke based on his episcopal address), he is, after all, a bishop.

"Bishop, you've been getting criticised a lot on religious blogs recently, after your half-baked comments about one of your priests."
I don't read blogs. Especially not Eccles's blog, which insulted me seven times last month. I counted them.
"Yes, well some of the newspapers are less than enthusiastic about you."
I don't read newspapers.
"And the papal encyclicals appear to contradict many of your views."
I don't read papal encyclicals.
"And the Bible's teaching seems to contradict you from time to time."
I don't read the Bible.

Kieran's friends at ACTA are not universally loved.

We've been hearing a lot about the dissident Catholic group ACTA/ACTOR ("A call to outright rebellion"), and we invited a few members to our dinner party. They explained to us their latest plans for "making the Pope sit up and take notice of us". These include showing disrespect to all religious authority apart from God. "And even God had better watch His step, if He knows what's good for Him."

We're going to ignore the liturgy, and do our own thing. For example, we'll say "Yadda Yadda Yadda" instead of "through my own most grievous fault", just to make it clear that we don't have any grievous faults. We are also very keen on individual conscience, so out goes that dusty old Bible, and in comes a personal statement of morals. If my conscience tells me that it's all right to marry a porcupine, then I shall marry a porcupine, and clasp it to my bosom.

But think of the children...

We had thought of inviting Bill Gardner, the religious affairs correspondent of the Brighton Argus, but he was out delivering soup to the poor and needy. As it happens, my friend Damian Thompson was unable to come to the dinner party, having been upset by a shocking story in the Argus.

Another scoop for the Argus.

Well, a good time was had by all, and Dawkins was sent home having been exposed to some of the finest religious minds of our time (including several Tablet journalists). I asked him afterwards what it felt like to be surrounded by devoutly religious people all evening. "You're having me on, Eccles!" he replied.

Next time I'll invite one of those Indian fakers...

Argus gets into trouble again

As readers will surely know by now, the religious blogger, Jesus of Nazareth, recently suffered a hatchet job from the malicious giant Argus Panoptes.

Argus Panoptes, the giant with 100 eyes, attacks his victim.

The story is that Argus sent a rather slow-witted creature, Bill the Lizard, to torment our Lord by misrepresenting everything He said.

For example, when Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, it is known that Martha, the dead man's sister, had commented "Lord, by this time he stinketh, for he is now of four days." In the capable journalistic hands of Bill the Lizard, this became "Jesus told me that he really hated raising people from the dead, because they were so smelly."

At least I don't smell as bad as certain journalists.

On another occasion, Jesus is reported as having written on His blog: For the poor you have always with you: and whensoever you will, you may do them good: but Me you have not always. Argus's tame lizard rendered this as "Jesus told me that he had no time for the poor, and always told his disciples to kick them out into the street."

"... and it's really irritating to have sick people let down through the roof when I'm talking."

Fortunately, many bloggers have rushed to the defence of Jesus, including St Timothy the hermeneutic, St Timothy of Stanley, St Laurence of England, and even the eccentric St Z (and many others too numerous to name individually).

Finally, even Bishop Kieran has taken notice of these events, and given support in the way he knows best. "I must apologise for any offence given by Jesus Christ," he said. "Sometimes in his enthusiasm for religion he goes too far. Be reassured that there will be very few Catholic priests in my diocese who act like Jesus - at least not if I have anything to say in the matter!"

Bill the Lizard was unavailable for comment: it was believed that he had been been engaged in an errand of mercy, rescuing a child called Alice who had become trapped in a house. Unfortunately, she kicked him up the chimney when she knew who he was.

Bill the Lizard finds that charitable acts aren't as easy as they seem.

The trouble with poor journalists

Fr Ray Blake writes:

The trouble with poor journalists is that they make a mess everywhere.

For ye have the poor journalists with you always. Mark 14:7.

There is a secluded area of the internet where a mostly-unread Brighton newspaper provides shelter for journalists otherwise unable to obtain gainful employment. Occasionally, I inspect some of their passages and find them foul and disgusting. I have seen lies, made-up quotes, and general urination over the efforts of Christian priests to help the less well-off members of society.

A journalist prepares his "copy" for the Brighton Argus.

If they are not making messes, you find that they simply tell lies. One of them quotes me as saying "I am a very holy and saved person and this tests my holiness," when if he had ever encountered a priest since the day when one dropped him on his head at his baptism, he would know that no priest (apart from the rather dubious Cardinal Eccles) talks in this way.

Apart from the poor journalists who steal trifles from my blog, beat them into unrecognisability, and market them as their own "exclusives", I also encounter a poverty of ideas among journalists working for the Daily Mail (a newspaper for those who enjoy photographs taken looking up women's skirts); these rejects from society throw foul garbage over the internet, leaving a nasty smell behind them.

And don't get me started on the unwashed and dirty-minded morons who write on the comment threads of the Daily Mail...

A Daily Mail reader explains himself.

Addendum: The Telegraph has also managed to soil itself on this occasion.