A successful week for Pope Francis

As Pope Francis keeps telling us, he is an old man, and starting to slow down. He hasn't slapped a pilgrim for several weeks, nor personally insulted a cardinal for a month or two. So it is with great pleasure that we can list some of the achievements of his recent trip to Canada.

Confined to a wheelchair but still in control!

1. Idolatory. Pachamama is so 2019, and a go-ahead pope who wants to troll the Catholic Church has got to find a new object of pagan worship. So we are delighted to welcome the Western grandmother, invoked in a "smudging ritual", in which noxious smoke is wafted round the room. Whether she will catch on with Francis-Catholics (now mainly Ivereigh, Lamb, Faggioli and Spadaro) is unclear, but here's Granny!

2. Fake confessions. Who are we to judge, but it may be thought that most Catholics - even the pope - have enough sins of their own to confess without confessing other people's. But no, in a brilliant innovation, Pope Francis has apologised to the Canadians, expressing deep shame and sorrow for various abuses that may or may not have taken place. Well, it certainly stopped anyone from asking embarrassing questions about Gussie Zanchetta!

"Don't worry, Gus, some future pope can apologise for us!"

3. A ritual kick at traditional Catholics. They just won't go away, will they, Francis? That TRADGON deodorant that Arthur Roche bought you doesn't seem to be working. A few bishops share your vindictive attitude to people who are used to the older forms of worship, but most are still ignoring you and hoping that the men in white coats will soon cart you off to the loony bin. Meanwhile, however, carry on insulting! Today's new one is BACKWARDIST. A good one, eh? When your popemobile is rushing down the hill towards a chasm, it's the backwardist who tries to stop it. Austen Ivereigh thinks it's brilliant!

4. Evolution of doctrine. As Pope Francis keeps stressing, doctrine evolves. What was a sin in the 1960s (or even the 1st century) may no longer be a sin! Conversely, there are new sins, such as advertising a Latin Mass in your parish bulletin, which earlier popes would have thought hilarious. Watch out, Humanae Vitae, we're gunning for you!

A nasty rigid backwardist pope! Which idiot canonized him? Oh...

Pope Francis becomes a constitutional monarch

Catholics have the difficult task of reconciling the following two propositions:

1. The Pope is the Vicar of Christ, the successor of St Peter, the big cheese of the Universal Church, and an all-round infallible bloke.

2. Pope Francis spends all his time making a fool of himself, his knowledge of Catholic doctrine is at best hazy, and he has the mindset of a South American dictator.

As a result of the GLORIOUS REVOLUTION OF 2018, the Pope is henceforth a constitutional monarch, whose duties are limited to opening supermarkets, having tea with visiting dignitaries, and carefully avoiding the expression of an opinion on any subject whatsoever.

"And what do YOU do?"

In the end, a Pope limited to purely ceremonial activities (for example, he may offer Mass, but is forbidden to preach a homily) is a lot less trouble all round. "But won't we miss the encyclicals and apostolic exhortations?" you ask. Well, actually, no we won't. We are already bombarded with far too much stuff from popes. Given that Catholic teaching does not and *cannot* change, why do we need more verbose stuff with Latin titles to tell us this?

Ah, you may say, some issues never arose in previous centuries. Do transgender men cause climate change? Is it sinful to eat crocodiles on a Friday? How about crocodile-skin handbags? Should we destroy the Daleks, or would they be saved if they switched to wind power?

A Doctor of the church discusses theology with a leading Jesuit.

Well, there's no point asking the Pope to rule on these issues. Synods don't seem to be the answer, as Cardinal Baldisseri will only rig them. Ho hum, it may be all down to Ignatian discernment (= guesswork) after all.

Anyway, these are minor issues, and can be sorted out, provided that the general policy is conservative, i.e., change nothing.

"Have you come far?"

The Pope will of course be allowed to make a Christmas broadcast, just as his opposite number Queen Elizabeth, the Supreme Governor of the Anglican Church does.

"In January we visited Chile, and I had great pleasure addressing cheering crowds, which in some cases ran into double figures. I had such a good time that I have persuaded my friend Archbishop Scicluna to go there for a little winter break. We have also been making friends with the Chinese, and they tell us that from now on they will save us the trouble of appointing bishops, but simply pick them from the Central Committee of the Communist Party! Why didn't we think of that before? Also I opened a new abortion clinic on the invitation of my good friend Mrs Bonino..."

Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.

Yes, from now on Catholicism makes a lot more sense. And when we get a new Pope, we can go back to the old system.

Assisted Dying on the Orient Express

"That was a strange case, Hastings, mon ami," said my friend Hercule Poirot. "I was taking the ad Orientem Express to the mysterious east (Margate), to consult my friend Fr Tim Finigan on a curious question of hermeneutics, when we were held up by two or three snowflakes on the line - apparently, they were the wrong kind of snow. Still, there we were, marooned in some uncharted wastes near Faversham, with no hope of rescue for several days."

Somewhere near Faversham.

The chef de train summoned Poirot to one of the compartments, where there lay the dead body of a fattish man in his early sixties. One could tell at a glance that he was dead: there were stab wounds and bullet holes in various parts of his body, a rope round his neck, an empty bottle of pills by his side, and the marks of a blunt instrument on the back of his head. "His name is Charlie Falconer, and he was some sort of gangster," commented the train guard. "Could it be suicide, M. Poirot?"

Charlie Falconer in happier times, singing the Nightmare song from Iolanthe.

Poirot examined the body carefully. "I think not, mon vieux. Someone evidently helped him on his way. The worse case of assisted suicide that I have ever seen. We must find an explanation for his death."

An eager, fresh-faced man joined them. "Hi! I'm Tony!" he said. "I used to be something big in politics, but now I go round the world making money. Also I've been bringing peace to the Middle East. Charlie was an old friend of mine, and I gave him a job once."

"I have heard of you, Monsieur," acknowledged Poirot. "You are a pious Catholic who supports abortion and same-sex marriage. Can you think of any reason why M. Falconer could have opted for assisted suicide?"

Tony gives Pope John-Paul II some tips on becoming a saint.

"Well, he had a sore throat, and he didn't like train journeys, and England did badly in the World Cup, and he was worried about his pet hamster, Miliband, and he scratched his car against the gatepost last week, and they'd run out of gin, and he thought it might rain later, and..."

"I understand. All perfectly good reasons for a doctor to recommend assisted suicide. Now, let us see if there are any likely suspects." At that moment, a strange character entered the compartment.

John Birt. Formerly of the BBC.

"EX-TER-MIN-ATE! EX-TER-MIN-ATE! AS-SIST SU-I-CIDE! AS-SIST SU-I-CIDE!" screamed Lord Birt, for it was indeed he. This was a man who had been Director-General of the BBC, an organization that had employed megastars such as Jimmy Savile and Rolf Harris. During his rule, it was said that more people had switched off their televisions and said "I can't go on!" than ever before.

"There are indeed marks of extermination on Charlie Falconer's body," said Poirot, "but they may have been inflicted after death." He was then joined by a bumbling figure dressed as an Anglican archbishop.

"And if my sermons don't finish them off, a good swipe with the crozier will do it."

"Hello, everyone, I'm George," said the man, who was wearing a strikingly silly mitre and carrying a large blunt instrument. "I am man of deep Christian principles. Can I be of assistance to you as you seek to end your life in a truly Christian way?"

"No! No!" said Poirot. "I wish to live to be 130. Indeed, if Agatha Christie doesn't sort out the chronology of her stories, I may be forced to."

At that moment the compartment began to fill up with other well-intentioned supporters of assisted death: apparently, the House of Lords had organized a day trip to Margate for all its most irritating members.

Ian Blair as seen in "Hello (Hello, Hello)!" magazine, deals with the old and Sikh.

"You've all been very helpful," said Poirot. "Of great assistance, in fact..."

The Pilgrim's Ogress 2 - Dr E and the Tableks

Continued from Part 1.

The story so far: the pilgrim Eccles and his Auntie Moly, the ogress, have reached Hammersmith. Today's guest author, the late Terry Nation, takes over the story.

Catherine Pepinster and Elena Curti discuss the next issue of the Tablek.

Dr E and his assistant Mol had reached the Tablek fortress in Hammersmith, with its friendly sign outside: Tablek Headquarters - trespassers will be exterminated. "This may be dangerous," said the Doctor, and he suggested to Mol that she take refuge in the local pub, the Aged ACTAvist. Having introduced her to a large gin, Dr E returned to the fortress, used his sonic screwdriver to open the doors, and entered into a maze of narrow corridors. Was this where he would find the Tablek army, which was intent on domination of the Catholic Church, and even prepared to ally with the hated Küngs and Flanneries in order to achieve supreme power?

A pious Catholic is incensed by encountering a Tablek.

Dr E ducked into an alcove as two Tableks glided past in conversation: "POPE FRAN-CIS IS OUR SER-VANT. HE WILL CHANGE CATH-O-LIC TEACH-ING. WE DO NOT NEED TO EX-TER-MIN-ATE HIM YET." Was this true, or had the Tableks been fooled as a result of receiving a mass of confusing signals? The Tableks continued: "WHO ARE WE TO JUDGE? WE DO NOT JUDGE. WE EX-TER-MIN-ATE."

Through a window, the Doctor caught sight of a sinister figure in a mobile life-support chair. Could this really be that evil twisted genius who, some said, was the brain behind the Tableks?

Duffros, riding in his life-support chair.

Yes, it was indeed the dreaded Duffros, a man of undoubted brilliance but one of Dr E's deadliest enemies. The Doctor's courage was almost ready to give way, and he thought briefly of returning to the safety of his Traddis (a converted police-box in which traditional worship was held). But the decision was taken out of his hands. An important-looking Tablek had spotted him, and was approaching rapidly, with the harsh cry of "EVES-AD-VO-CATE! EVES-AD-VO-CATE!"

Dr E encounters Tina Beattie.

To be continued by another author.

New Dr Who series

Ian McKellen - a politically, correct Doctor for the 21st century (with silly hat).

A new series of the children's programme Dr Who has just been announced. In recent years, the show has been known for telling kids as young as six years old about homosexual time-travellers and lesbian lizards, and now it has been decided to take this further in a series of exciting adventures in which the Doctor takes on the forces of Christianity galaxy-wide.

Fr Magister - the Doctor has a long history of fighting clericalism.

In next week's story, Dr Who and the Cyberbride, the Doctor arrives on the planet Mondas, where he falls in love with a handsome Cyberman. The two of them approach the Bishop of Mondas, requesting that he tie the knot for them, but owing to the nasty bigoted social conditions pertaining there, the Bishop is forced to refuse. The Cyberman had set its heart on a Church wedding, and so the Doctor is forced to part from his lover and continue his lonely voyage through Time and Space.

Get me to the church on time! Cyberbride, with bridesmaids

Later in the series, we see the Doctor arrive in 21st Century London. In a story entitled Trouble with Archbishops, he meets a crazed dictator called Dave, who is attempting to change history, although opposed by a group of religious maniacs. Confusion is caused by the intervention of a gang of comedy Bishops - the Archbishop of Greater London, The Archbishop of London, the Archimandrite of the Metropolitan Line, the Metropolitan of the Archimandrite Line, the Patriarch of the North and South Circulars, the High Priestess of Hyde Park, and the Bishop of London - each of whom claims to be a valid minister.

The Doctor's new assistant, Owen (aged 10), even more irritating than the late Adric.

Finally, the Daleks are brought back, yet again, in an adventure Wedding of the Daleks. Davros, their creator, has finally realized that Daleks will be able to breed on their own if he makes female ones as well as male ones. He teaches them a new catch-phrase, CO-PU-LATE, CO-PU-LATE , and insists that from now on all Dalek romances are to be heterosexual. This is where the Doctor turns up, and with a stirring cry of "Gay rights for Daleks!" takes on the forces of bigotry, reaction, etc.

Mummy, is Giles Fraser still on?

The Book of St Richard, Chapter 5

Continued from Chapter 4

1. So it came to pass that Richard called his book The Blind Watchmaker.

2. For the wise men of Oxford University Press had said unto him, "Your title The bloody useless clockmaker is a no-no, squire."

3. But Richard spake unto them saying, "I care not, really. Just keep sending me the royalties."

The blind watchmaker passes on his genes

4. And Richard was hailed as the new Darwin, yea, the only man who really understood how evolution worked.

5. And he considered chartering a boat, and sailing to the Galapagos islands therein, that he might improve on the work of Darwin, and perhaps become even more celebrated.

6. But in the end Richard hardened his heart against the idea; which is why we have no classic Voyage of the Chicken, to place alongside the Voyage of the Beagle.

Wildlife on the Galapagos Islands

7. Then Richard spake unto the World, saying, "Genetics is dead. Long live Memetics."

8. And those who liked Richard said, "His work has some memetic value," while those who did not said, "His work has some emetic value," which sounds exactly the same, really; no doubt both were right.

9. So the fame of Richard spread, and he won many awards. The Mooseknuckle Humanists' Club gave him their prestigious Golden Spleen award, and the Emperor Nero Burn-the-Christians revivalists presented him with a pair of engraved silver noseplugs.

10. And Richard was invited to give the Royal Institution Christmas Lectures for Children. Which is ironic, as he was neither a royalist nor a Christian, even if he belonged in an institution.

An audience of children listens with rapt attention

11. And Richard insisted that Christianity and Creationism were the same thing, and that this disproved Christianity. Q.E.D.

12. And God laughed.

13. Finally, even the men of Oxford recognised Richard's greatness, for they promoted him to the rank of Reader in Zoology, which means, "Not quite good enough to be a professor, but still pretty sound on chickens."

14. But there were men who spake against Richard, saying, "He is totally la-la, and needs to be in a mental home."

15. So they sought a hospital with a special ward for deluded megalomaniacs, which might be called the La-la Ward.

16. Which will bring us naturally to the next chapter, for by now Richard had put aside his second wife, and was driven by his genes to seek a third.

The Blind Matchmaker

Continued in Chapter 6