How to brush off a papal scandal

This is the latest instalment in our long-running series "How to be a good pope", intended especially for those of our readers who one day get a tap on the shoulder, and a "Congratulations, Cardinal Imbroglio, here are the keys to Heaven, the Vatican Bank, and Cardinal Cocainepusher's apartment. Now, have a nice day!"

It may happen one day that you are taking a little holiday in Ireland, when a scandal breaks. Archbishop Figaro, whom you never liked, has produced a testimony which, if true, would require your instant resignation.

"The seminarian was just resting in my bed, Frank."

The central allegation concern a chap called "Uncle Fred", who is one of your best mates, but has been caught with his vestments down. Your predecessor had slapped his wrists and prescribed a regime of cold showers and no contact with vulnerable people, but you decided to kiss him better and restore him to the sybaritic luxury that we expect of a Prince of the Church. Oops!

Your first step is to say nothing. This worked very well for the Dubia, and the jury is still out on whether Amorous Letitia is heretical or not - and you're not going to tell them! It also worked when you took the side of Boozelager against Feasting in the Order of Malt wars.

So what you say is: "I think the statement speaks for itself." This is good Jesuit-speak, as it can be interpreted both ways: either as a confession "It's a fair cop", or, if you can wriggle out of it, as "I ain't done nuffin'." Also try saying "Read that statement attentively and make your own judgment," which should muddy the waters enough for you to escape.

Remember, they will only carry you out of the Vatican feet first!

Next, send in the attack poodles! There are lots of nonentities who owe you a favour, like Austin Powers, author of "Pope Frank, the saviour of the universe"; or Fr Rosie from the Satan Lite Corporation; you can rely on Fr Jim LGBTSJ to muddy the waters by confusing celibacy, chastity, and continence; Professor Beans will also blunder in with some choice theologian's insults. Now there's no use in denying anything in Archbishop Figaro's testimony. What the poodles must do is to bite Figaro in the ankles (metaphorically). Call him a terrorist, an extreme right-winger, fomenter of a crude putsch - why he must be LITERALLY HITLER.

Hmm, a day has passed, and that didn't work. Everyone is still expecting something from you. Send in the clowns! Soupy Supich will explain that you have FAR MORE IMPORTANT issues to deal with than mass homosexual rape - such as climate change and migrants. It's true that in your encyclical LOADA SH'T you did explain that we Catholics should no longer worry about Good and Evil, but Environmental issues instead. Oh, and ask Soupy to play the RACE CARD. What race are you? Oh, the same as Figaro? Well it doesn't matter, play it anyway.

Alice goes down a rabbit hole and meets the Supich Cat.

Oh look, Cardinal Maradona's back from counting the money hidden under his bed. He's worried because a journalist has been looking too closely into activities in his seminaries. Time for a sacking! No, not Maradona!! He's just complained that he's the victim of a 'hit man' who practises media harassment. Well, at least it wasn't sexual harassment, as in the seminaries! Get the journalist sacked!

It may be time for you to intervene, finally. No, you fool, not by answering Figaro's allegations! Pull yourself together, you'll end up answering the Dubia if you don't get a grip. So this is what you do:

Clutching at straws?

Remember to update the catechism on this very subject:

66666. Recourse to the use of plastic straws for the purpose of legitimate drinking, following a period of thirst, was long considered an appropriate response to the needs of the individual, and an acceptable, albeit extreme, means of transferring liquids to one's mouth.

Today, however, there is an increasing awareness that the value of the drink is not lost even if it is consumed by alternative methods. In addition, a new understanding has emerged of the significance of tilting glasses in order for their contents to fall out. Lastly, more effective systems of drinking have been developed, which ensure the due nourishment of thirsty citizens but, at the same time, do not definitively destroy the environment.

Consequently, the Church teaches, in the light of the Gospel, that “plastic straws are inadmissible because they are an attack on the inviolability and dignity of nature”, and she works with determination for their abolition worldwide.

Yes, that should work. Another good way of diverting attention is to play the "Where's Wuerly?" game.

Where's Wuerly?

One of your more embattled cardinals, Donna Wuerl, is expecting a knock on the door from the FBI. Make him disappear! As Baroness Orgy put it in The Scarlet Nincompoop: Is he in Heaven, is he in Hell? That demmed elusive Donna Wuerl! (Spoiler: he's in Rome, but won't be when they come looking for him!).

Well, that's all gone VERY WELL INDEED. By Sunday the crisis will be over. Ask Austin Powers. Ask Mickens Mouse. Ask Elizabeth Scalia the Pollyanna-chorus... Nothing to see here, let's move on.

Eccles - the early years

I have been asked by Mary O'Regan to say a few words about my childhood, and to answer the questions:

What kind of child were you?
Are you a very different adult?

Possibly a very different Eccles, but still saved.

Regular readers who come here for spiritual nourishment will not be disappointed by the theme of this post - it tells how a distinctly naughty and unsaved child can nevertheless become a truly virtuous and saved adult. When Mary O'Regan gets fed up with Padre Pio, she can write about me instead.

I started writing rubbish at an early age: when I was six I had a piece published in the school magazine (yes, they were desperate for copy). It was a satirical story, supposedly written by the Cheshire cat, giving his own account of the meeting with Alice. As with all Eccles satire, it was probably very rude and naughty - I don't have a copy of it now - and you may think of Alice as an early victim of Eccles, someone like Catherine Pepinster, say.

A mere sockpuss.

One thing I remember about my early schooldays is that every Friday we had fish pie. It was disgusting. As P.G. Wodehouse would say, it was not made from happy and contented fish, but possibly from salmon and sturgeon that had just lost a crucial referendum. Although the food on the other days wasn't wonderful, it was the sufferings caused by fish pie that made me the soulful person I am today.

A young Eccles. Note the handsome ears, and the embryonic biretta.

I was also a rather naughty child with little respect for religion. As a teenager I got very interested in chemistry (like the present Pope, as it happens), and made some nitrogen iodide crystals. My friends and I felt that the school chapel could benefit from these, so just before a service we placed some on the floor near the lectern. In due course a senior boy went up to read the lesson, and trod on the crystals, which went CRACK and emitted violet fumes. I don't suppose that the Pope also did that sort of thing, but I can console myself that I was exploring alternative forms of worship, and so was probably acting in line with the Spirit of Vatican II.

Like incense, only it's purple and explodes.

So, I haven't really changed much from childhood to adulthood, except that now I am much more saved, so of course I don't leave nitrogen iodide in churches except on special occasions.

I am asked to recommend three more bloggers for the "when I were a lad" treatment. All the good one have probably been signed up by now, so I am choosing three bad bloggers instead: Cardinal Dolan, Tina Beattie, and Bishop Campbell of Lancaster. If anyone is in touch with these luminaries - I'm not - could they please mention that Eccles has called them to greatness? Thanks.