This is me, Eccles

This is me, Eccles
This is me, Eccles
Showing posts with label Fr Arthur. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fr Arthur. Show all posts

Tuesday, 3 October 2017

Catholics flee church when priest starts reading out Amoris Laetitia

On Sunday, worshippers at the church of St Daryl the Apostate fled in terror after becoming "triggered" by the homily of their priest, Fr Arthur.

Said one worshipper, Amy Rigid, who wishes to remain anonymous, "I thought we were going to have a simple homily about today's Gospel - the man with two idiot sons who couldn't make up their minds whether to work in the vineyard - when Fr Arthur started reading out passages from Amoris Laetitia."

Allo Allo

Waiting for an idiot son to arrive in the vineyard.

"At first it was something totally bland, about how most loving families consist of a husband, a wife, 2.4 children, and a goldfish, but I could see where this was leading, and that Fr Arthur would pretty soon start talking about allowing unreformed serial killers to take Communion after a period of accompaniment and discernment."

Another worshipper, Ivor Dubia, concurred. "I fled in panic. Who knows what Fr Arthur would have done next? Quoted from the comedy theology of Massimo Faggioli?"

Faggioli fail

Have you checked that your beliefs are still Catholic?

"It was much easier last week, when Fr Arthur shouted 'Allahu Akbar!' and read out passages from the Koran about smiting the infidel. That's ecumenical, I can understand that. But quoting from ghost-written apostolic exhortations loosely based on what someone in the Vatican wished that the Synods on the Family had agreed... No, that's a step too far!"

Last night a party of worshippers went round to the Presybtery with a "filial correction" of Fr Arthur's errors, including claims that he was a bad-mannered old misery-guts. They were greeted with a bucket of water thrown out of the window, which suggests that there is still room for further dialogue.

James Martin cavorting

"Next week's preacher will explain how to build a bridge out of toilet rolls and a rainbow chasuble."

Tuesday, 8 August 2017

St Elizabeth the LGBT activist

Hello, guys and gals, I'm Fr Arthur your new "Yoof Priest", and I'm preaching the official "Yoof Sermon" at the "Yoof Mass" or "Gig" as we Yoof Priests call it. Taking my lead from my hero, Fr Dom of Brentwood, I take as my text today the passage from Luke 1, where St Elizabeth was persecuted for being an LGBT activist.

St Elizabeth

St Elizabeth, an inspiration to LGBTQISJXYZαβPQRAREYOUSTILLREADING™∇⊕ZZZ999 people everywhere!

As Fr Dom so wisely tells us, Elizabeth was shunned for being barren. But why should she have been barren? Was she a lesbian? Or even bisexual? Perhaps she was "trans", and would have preferred to be called Elijah, or maybe a gender-neutral "El"? Yes, that was the real cause of her persecution, the homophobic tradition in 1st century Judaea!

Nowadays being a lesbian is of course no barrier to conceiving. Science has conquered nature, and we can make children in test-tubes who do not know who their parents are. And I am sure that many of you yooful ones here present would have preferred things that way! In future this will be the usual way to produce kids - in giant hatcheries - and sex will be reserved for pleasure as God intended!

Aldous Huxley

Aldous Huxley. A dead white male but his "Brave New World" showed us how to advance!

Anyway, in the end Elizabeth gave way to the fascist hegemony of her times, and God gave her a child. And what a disaster that was! John the Baptist! Someone with distinctly old-fashioned views on marriage, a scruffy old drop-out who came to a bad end. The least said about him the better!

Oh, excuse me, my mobile's ringing. Hello, bishop? What's that people have been saying about me? A complete fruitcake? That's not nice... All right, that's all for today, lads and lasses.

© Fr Arthur 2017

Thursday, 9 February 2017

Whom do we obey, the bishop or the pope?

Bishop Philip Egan of Portsmouth, generally agreed to be one of the truly saved English bishops, has raised an interesting question, the title of this post.

Egan tweet

The bishop's dilemma.

For Catholics at least, the generally recognised hierarchy is

YOU < PRIEST < BISHOP < POPE < GOD.

"God" here means the Trinity - Father, Son and Holy Spirit, with an optional Spirit of Vatican II joining Them - and "Pope" here is also a trinity (jolly Frank, grumpy Bergoglio, and the rarely-observed wise Francis). Moreover, for some people, POPE = GOD.

Now comes the dilemma: for the people of Portsmouth we may fairly say that the Bishop is the chap to obey, more than the Pope is. For the people of Malta, the bishops are... well, never mind, but nobody in their right mind should listen to them.

Poster from Rome

Not everyone is satisfied with the Pope.

The poster above shows that even obeying the Pope can be problematical. Our Italian is not good, but it seems to say "You is not saved, only we is saved." This is of course the recognised way of submitting complaints (Latin, "Dubia") to the Pope.

If thy priest offend thee, then of course thou shouldst stick posters of him all round the town.

Bad priest

FATHER ARTHUR, YOU ARE A COMPLETE MORON! HANDS OFF THE SOVEREIGN MOTHERS AND TODDLERS GROUP! GET THOSE GUITARS OUT OF MASS! STOP BORING US WITH HOMILIES ABOUT YOUR HOLIDAY IN BOURNEMOUTH! WHERE IS YOUR MERCY?

Finally, some people will take complaints to the highest level...

God

GOD, THE WEATHER IS SO LOUSY AND I AM IN A BORING JOB AND NOBODY LIKES ME AND I DON'T LIKE YOUR TEACHING ON ADULTERY AND THAT MAN BURKE IS DRIVING ME NUTS. WHERE IS YOUR OMNIPOTENCE? LOVE, FRANCIS.

Sunday, 20 March 2016

Rude words in church

This is loosely based on a real incident.

Dear Fr Arthur,

Being a man of advanced years (36), I sometimes drop off in your sermons. To my horror, I awoke at one moment and distinctly heard you say the word "knickers". To the best of my knowledge I have never heard such bad language in a church service before. If you are referring to something in the Bishop's Letter, then a little respect is needed, don't you think?

Fr Arthur

Fr Arthur uses a rude word.

Eccles, you moron,

My sermon was about refugees, and I was encouraging my parishioners to donate much-needed gifts to the "jungle" at Fraseur St Gilles, near Dunkirk. These would include any spare pullovers, knickers, tins of beans, Eccles cakes, pet hamsters, rowing-boats, guns, and copies of Enid Blyton's The Famous Five discover Transgenderism that you may have. But no sausages.

May I remind you that these days social awareness is more important than religion, and so we don't talk about God in our homilies.

wee box

A mysterious photo in the Catholic Herald.

Dear Luke Coppen, Editor of the Catholic Herald,

What exactly is a wee box? Is it what we used to call a toilet cubicle? And why should the Herald print a photo of Mrs Sturgeon inaugurating some?

No reply was received.

Walking on custard.

Dear Graham James, Anglican Bishop of Norwich,

Could you explain this photo of you jumping up and down on a tray of custard? Is it an attempt to ingratiate yourself with the great Damian Thompson, custard correspondent of the Spectator? Or is it merely a new liturgical dance?

Wednesday, 10 December 2014

No Kiss of Peace for Eccles

Long-time readers of this blog will remember Fr Arthur, our local priest in good standing who takes very seriously the view that we are all sinners: indeed, for two pins he will give you a list of your sins, and, if he spots you in the confessional, will remind you of all the things you forgot to confess.

Fr Arthur has now recruited Deacon Marvin to help him, another man of pronounced likes and dislikes - mostly dislikes. On Sunday we had a hymn by Bernadette Farrell, "Christ, Be Our Light". It's not a completely bad hymn - it doesn't give me stomach cramps like "Shine, Jesus, Shine" or "Walk in the Light" do - but it reads more like a Guardian editorial than a hymn.

The Scream

All music is equally valid, you see.

Now, you may remember that Mrs Farrell wrote a rather impudent piece in the Tablet, in which she concluded that all styles of worship were equally valid and that the composer James MacMillan was wrong to express dislike for the dross produced by Paul Inwood, Dan Schutte and Gerry Fitzpatrick. Somehow Deacon Marvin overheard a private conversation in which I criticised Bernadette's musical taste, and that set him off.

There's a point in the Novus Ordo Mass where we are encouraged to offer each other the sign of peace. Usually it is the deacon who says this particular exhortation, and what we got this Sunday was the following version "Let us now offer each other the sign of peace. Except for Eccles, who is revolting and unkind, a bitter and twisted old neverwas. Anyone who shakes hands with Eccles is not worthy." You could see the Christian love radiate from the deacon (and the steam coming out of his ears) as he said these charming words.

Deacon Gollum

"We hates Eccles because he criticised Mrs Farrell."

Fr Arthur slapped the little deacon on the shoulder, as if to say "Good man," and so the Kiss of Peace went on without me. "Peace be with you." "Peace be with you." "Sorry, Eccles, you're an untouchable." "Peace be - oh, I've done you already, haven't I?" "Unhand me, sir!" "Ugh, you just sneezed in those hands." "Peace be with you." "Pax tecum." "Traddy pig!" "That makes twelve handshakes, I'm on a roll this week!" "I'm a Catholic, get me out of here!" "Bog off, Eccles." "Peace be with you."

Well, I never much liked the Kiss of Peace, and it is only an optional part of the Mass, one of those things that the Ghost of Vatican II slipped in when nobody was looking. And it is humbling once in a while to be told by a man in holy orders that he hates us.

St Nicholas and Arius

St Nicholas gives Arius the "slap of peace".

Thursday, 30 January 2014

How to praise the Lord

A sermon from Fr Arthur of the church of St Daryl the Apostate.

Many of you will have seen the Pope's recent homily on the fruitfulness of praise, telling people not to despise good people who praise the Lord in a spontaneous manner. Deacon, would you mind holding back on your spontaneous cries of "Hallelujah! I been saved!" for a few minutes, so that people can hear me preach? Just go back to sticking pins in that wax dummy of Brother Eccles. Thanks.

Rod Hull and Emu

Fr Arthur releases an "emu of peace".

Now, we in the church of St Daryl interpret the Pope's words as meaning that you can sing whatever you like, and it is acceptable to the Lord. There's no need to look for good hymns with well-constructed melody and harmony, with verses that rhyme and scan appropriately, and which contain at least one new idea in every line. No, the Lord likes it if we sing "Walk in the Light" thirty times in one hymn, without ever bothering to analyse what walking in the Light actually involves, or why exactly it is a good thing to do. The same applies if we sing "Kum ba yah" thirty times. Who needs the intellectual hymns of a Newman or Wesley? It's sheer snobbery to prefer them.

You know, the Lord wouldn't mind if we just sang "The Laughing Policeman". Let's do that now.

laughing policeman

Oh, be joyful in the Lord!

I know a fat old policeman,
He's always on our street.
A fat and jolly red-faced man,
He really is a treat.
He's too kind for a policeman,
He's never known to frown.  
And everybody says
He is the happiest man in town!

A ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Ooo hoo hoo hoo ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Ooo hoo hoo hoo ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Ooo hoo hoo hoo ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. 

There! That did us all a power of good, didn't it? I'll bet that God was laughing too! That's the joy of praise for you, even if we're not sure exactly who we're praising here. Even the deacon joined in the chorus.

We take the same attitude to the liturgy. A committee of scholars has produced a new English translation, faithful to the Latin original. Phooey! As the great Fr Butler of Brentwood has said, the Vatican II Council (crosses himself reverently, and genuflects at the sacred name) allows us to use the vernacular, if we want to, and this means "informal, colloquial speech". Cor, strike a light, missus!

So, let's have another hymn. This one comes with a liturgical dance.

Dick Van Dyke

Liturgical dancing.

Chim chiminey,
Chim chiminey,
Chim chim cher-ee!
A sweep is as lucky
As lucky can be!

That was good, wasn't it? Of course in this hymn the sweep is a metaphor for all Christian people. Well, let's not be judgemental here - he represents all people of faith, regardless of what it is or whether they have any. God is indeed bringing us luck!

By the way, next Sunday we'll have one of our special "fun" Masses. The deacon and I will be dressing up as a pantomime horse - I'll take the front part of course - and we ask you all to enter into the spirit of the occasion. After all, what is a holy day, but a holiday? Let's parteeeeee....

pantomime horse

The priest and deacon on their way to Mass.

Sunday, 3 November 2013

A homily from Fr Arfur

Hello, it's wonderful to see so many people in the church of St Daryl the Apostate this Sunday. It's been a busy week, with four festivals in a row: All Oween, All Saints, All Souls and today - as decreed by the Bishops' conference - All Fools Day.

Tarot fool

Fr Arfur

Well the events of Thursday 31st October are best forgotten, and the person who shouted "Great zombie costume!" at Fr Phil when he came into church would be well advised to apologise. Although they weren't to know that he had just tripped over his cassock and fallen into a puddle while practising his liturgical dance steps on the way to Mass.

On Friday we celebrated All Saints: we looked at the track records of the saints throughout the ages and decided that we could probably do better than that bunch of dreadful traddies. Yesterday was All Souls, and it was good to see that at least three people under the age of 70 turned up to Mass. We apologise to old Mrs Moly Bendite for wrongly claiming that she was dead - still, at least a night in a coffin seems to have done her no permanent harm.

So, we come to today, All Fools Day, on which occasion we remember fools throughout the ages.

Bishop and clowns

The bishop gets into the spirit of All Fools Day.

Now, as I was preparing for Mass, I read the sad story of Richard Dawkins, who is furious because a jar of honey was confiscated from him at airport security. Naturally, he blames religion for this, although this time it is our Muslim brethren - the late Mr Bin Laden - rather than the Catholic church that is responsible. But in a real sense are we not all responsible for the fact that the land of Dawkins is no longer flowing with milk and honey?

Dawkins bee in bonnet

Never mind, Richard, the bees in your bonnet will make you some more honey!

Now today's Gospel reading contains just one message for us: it is a story about Zacchaeus, a person of restricted growth, climbing a tree. Members of our differently-heighted community have naturally condemned it as Achondroplasiaphobic Hate Crime, so we'll move on.

Zacchaeus

A piece of offensive bigotry.

As you may know, the Bishop's Conference is urging you to respond to a survey on divorce, same-sex marriage and contraception. I do urge you to take part in this - there are 666 easy-to-answer questions, and it should not take you more than about three weeks to finish it. With a new man in the Vatican, we naturally expect a total rewriting of Catholic teaching, and Pope Francis is anxious to be told what he should believe from now on. Perhaps he has already phoned up some of you to ask your advice?

Well, that's all we have time for. Just a reminder that there will be a retiring collection in aid of ACTA, the organization that is attempting to bring the church back into the 1960s, where it truly belongs!

ACTA PARASITOLOGICA

The ACTA magazine - affiliated to the Tablet.

Sunday, 25 November 2012

St Daryl's church news

Fr Arthur writes:

I want to thank you all for your contributions to St Daryl's mission to Aspatria, which, we are told, is one of the poorest countries in the world. Thanks to your generosity, we have been able to send them a brand new state-of-the-art wheelie bin, so that they may benefit from the rubbish-disposal facilities that we all take for granted in the developed world. The bin (nicknamed "Arthur" by the grateful Aspatrians) is featured on this year's St Daryl's Christmas card.

Wheelie bin

St Daryl's Christmas card. Well done, we're making a difference!

In return, the Aspatrians, who are very pious Catholics, have sent us a sack of delicious sheeps' eyes as a goodwill present. Help yourselves after the Mass!


We regret that Mr and Mrs Delingpole, formerly regular communicants at St Daryl's, have been excommunicated, and will not be allowed in church again. In my absence last Saturday I delegated the hearing of Confessions to Mrs Thacker, my cleaning lady (and perhaps our future bishop - who knows?) and she discovered that the Delingpole family had admitted to finding a UKIP leaflet "quite interesting, really." Naturally, we notified the police, social services and the drugs squad, but we felt we should set an example too, and so I have provisionally excommunicated the entire Delingpole family, including their late grandmother Doris, whose gravestone has been removed from the cemetery as a precautionary measure.

Burning house

The Delingpole family home, after a visit from social services.


Highlights of Fr Arthur's sermon:

Today is the Feast of Christ the King. Now what do we think of when we hear the word "King?" A 2-metre statue? No, I said "King," not "Küng," Eamon. Let me help you, we think of someone important, perhaps

King Elvis

Aye, every inch a king!

No, Tina, you still haven't quite got the idea. We are more likely to be thinking of someone who sits on a throne. Perhaps someone like this:

Queen and throne

"I do think Boris might have let me sit on his throne. And he's late again."

So when we come into church we should show respect to Christ the King. Cries of "Yo! God!" are helpful (indeed, that's the chorus of a hymn we'll be singing later), but you could also give a little friendly wave in the general direction of the sanctuary. We aren't supposed to genuflect since the days of Vatican II!

Now I want us all to join in this traditional ethnic hymn to Christ the King:


Everybody dance cos we gotta King!
Everybody dance cos we gotta King!
Clap your hands cos we gotta King!
Clap your hands cos we gotta King!

Clegg

Clap your hand cos we gotta King!

Twist and shout cos we gotta King!
Twist and shout cos we gotta King!
Roll on the floor cos we gotta King!
Roll on the floor cos we gotta King!

Julia Gillard ROFLing

Roll on the floor cos we gotta King!

Right, now if you'd like to pick yourselves up off the floor, we'll recite the Creed - or at least the bits we take seriously.

Wednesday, 31 October 2012

Hallowe'en Mass

Now that Hallowe'en - which has absolutely nothing to do with All Hallows Eve - has become a major secular celebration at this time of year, the church of St Daryl the Apostate has decided to join in by celebrating Mass with a special Hallowe'en liturgy.

Priest and pumpkin

Vestments for the Mass include a pumpkin mask for Fr Arthur.

The Service begins with the Paul Inwood hymn Trick or Treat Ch-Ch? (loosely based on the Gregorian chant Fallere aut Remunerare?) After this, prayers will be offered to St Jack O' Lantern, an Irish Saint who was often "Lit up."

Saint Jack

St Jack O' Lantern, pray for us.

The readings for the day are expected to include the passage from 1 Samuel 28, where King Saul is turned into a frog by the Witch of Endor. The text on which Fr Arthur preaches tonight is Revelation 21, where it is claimed that sorcerers will end up in a pool burning with fire and brimstone; he will explain that this is purely a metaphor for people scowling at them ("Hate Crime") as they practice their sincerely-held beliefs.

Witches in church

We welcome witches. Note the modernist broomsticks!

After the service, there will be "eye of newt and toe of frog" soup and bread rolls available in the Church Hall. Do come along!

Making soup

Making the soup.

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

Near-death experiences

In view of a near-death experience claimed by Dr Eben Alexander, which is the basis of his new book Proof of Heaven, we asked some of the regular characters appearing on this blog to describe their own near-death experiences.


Bosco, worshipper at the Calvary Chapel, and saved person.

Bosco

Hello, could I speak to Jesus, please?

Eccles, you poor sick monkey, I had a rotten experience when I tried to save a convent of nuns, and I was badly beaten up by them. As I lay in hospital, near to death, I found that I was standing outside the Gates of Heaven, explaining to St Peter that all Catholics were idolaters, and should be sent to the Lake of Fire. "I am saved, even more than you are," I told him. "I've come for my throne and my golden crown."

St Peter is shocked

St Peter is shocked by Bosco's blog.

"Ah, Bosco," said St Peter. "I've been reading your blog, and we've got a totally different fate for you..."


Damian Thompson, formerly a religious journalist.

Lonely Damian

Damian is the one alone at the front, whom nobody else will talk to.

The first thing that struck me about St Peter, when I saw him, was that he was putting on weight. In fact, the whole tone of Heaven was very disappointing, and I was totally unimpressed with the angels, who were definitely smirking at me. The music was not Gladys Mills plays Beethoven, as I had been led to expect, nor even something by my friend James MacMillan, but a dirge that sounded like an eternal repetition of "Alleluia Ch-ch."

Angels

Angels - what dreadful hair styles they have.


Moly, aunt of Eccles and Bosco.

Anti Moly

A recent photo of Moly.

Well I don't believe in God or Heaven, but I did have a very strange dream last night when I finally dropped off. I was in Paradise, wearing my new Moly Number 5 cigarette- and gin-scented perfume. But I was surrounded by possums, all jumping up and down, and there wasn't a bottle of gin to be had anywhere. "It's endless torment for you," said a loud voice to me, probably one of those bullying traddy Catholics. Woeful.

Possumus

Vicious possums. They're out to get me. I know it.


Father Arthur, of the Church of St Daryl the Apostate.

Fr Arthur

I'm a priest in good standing, you know.

Well, I wasn't going to stand any calumny from the man waiting for me at the Gates of Heaven, so I got my attack in first. "May I remind you, 'Saint' Peter, that as recorded in the 26th chapter of the book of St Matthew, and elsewhere, you denied Christ on no less than three occasions? Does that give you the right to comment on the behaviour of other people? I am a priest in good standing, with no time for your traditionalist ways. Haven't you people heard of Vatican II? Now clear off, and let me do your job properly for you."

Last judgement

The Last Judgement. But Fr Arthur will willingly give you a preliminary verdict.

Tuesday, 18 September 2012

New readers start here

Who is Eccles? Who is Bosco? What is this blog all about?

Once upon a time there was a Telegraph blogger called Damian Thompson, who wrote mainly on religious subjects from the perspective of a traditional Catholic. His blog was referred to as "Holy Smoke", and attracted a variety of commentators. Damian discussed vital issues of interest to Catholics, such as, who would be the next Archbishop of Westminster, was Bishop Arthur Roche eating too many cinnabons, and was Mgr Andrew Summersgill capable of organizing a papal drinks party in a brewery?

Damian and Pope

Damian Thompson in Westminster Cathedral, angry at having been "cut" by the Pope.

Thompson's blog also attracted a number of anti-Catholic trolls. First, there were the atheists, those who thought that Richard Dawkins was some sort of theological giant, and whose rhetoric mainly consisted of references to sky-fairies, bronze-age goat-herds and child abuse. Oh, they found child abuse fascinating.

Second, there were Christians of a distinctly non-Catholic flavour. Chief among them was one who posted with a clown avatar as "stbosco", a man greatly influenced by the ideas of Jack Chick. Whatever the subject of discussion - and Damian was gradually moving away from Catholic topics onto general politics and gossip - Bosco (as we shall call him) would post twenty-line diatribes copied and pasted from virulently anti-Catholic sites, or sometimes written by himself in his own illiterate style. Bosco has his own blog, which no decent person would ever wish to read, but, if you are feeling indecent, you can probably find it quickly by Googling "bosco blog bite me".

St Peter or Jupiter?

One of the few images on Bosco's blog that does not have an obscene or disgusting caption.

Most of Bosco's blog is to do with accusations against Catholics of homosexual practices, child abuse and idolatory. It is also highly scatological. You really don't need to read it.

Anyway, early in 2011, a new poster (or possibly an old one, rebranded) turned up on Damian's blog, calling himself "Eccles", in honour of the famous Goon Show character, and claiming to be the younger, even less intelligent, brother of Bosco. Like Bosco, Eccles believed he was automatically "saved", which meant that like Bosco he could tell lies, insult people, and be generally rude, safe in the knowledge that his golden crown was already waiting for him, together with a seat at God's right hand. The Eccles comments were ridiculous parodies of Bosco's.

Eccles cultivated a style of illiterate writing similar to Bosco's, but worse, which was stolen from the Molesworth books ("Down with Skool!" etc.) which allowed a talented writer to indulge in sub-Joycean wordplay.

Bosco furiously denied that Eccles was his brother. Well he would, wouldn't he? The moderators on Damian's blog soon got into the habit of deleting roughly 50% of Bosco's posts and Eccles's too.

The Mad Moderator

A typical Telegraph "muddlerator".

So Eccles decided to write his own blog, and just link to it. The links were often "muddlerated" away, but the blog survived as an account of the life of Eccles and Bosco. The first story to appear on this blog was a charming little fable about Bosco attending a Bible class. It concluded:

In our last lesson, Bosco got very cross wiv de Cathlic preist, Fr X. Pell de Mons, cos in his room he had a children's book wiv a pitcher of a pengiun on de cover. Bosco fought it was a nunn and went bersek. Here is Polly de Nunn, she aint so dangrous, is she?

Polly de Nunn

Polly de Nunn.

As time went on, other trolls from Damian's blog found themselves appearing in Eccles's blog. Chief of those was "Anti Moly", loosely based on an atheist commentator from Adelaide with a reputation for obsessiveness, insults, bad temper, and bullying. She turned up as the great-aunt of Eccles and Bosco, who was definitely "unsaved", was addicted to drinking gin (or hair-restorer, if necessary), and liked to stay up all night screaming at the Internet.

Another comic character who appeared for a while was Fr Arthur, a very liberal "priest in good standing", who was very fond of accusing his brothers in Christ of all manner of sins. When people went to Confession with him, they found that they did not need to say what they'd done wrong, as he would tell them (and told them that they should not expect forgiveness). Oh, there was also a comic character called Damian Thompson, who lived in a palatial mansion in Notting Hill, with a variety of domestic servants who coincidentally shared the names of Telegraph bloggers.

Bosco himself eventually disappeared from Damian's blog early in 2012 having been finally banned. Eccles himself began to change the direction of his blog somewhat, especially when he realised that Damian Thompson was no longer writing about religion (apart from settling scores, e.g., by claiming that Archbishop Tartaglia had a weight problem).

Richard Dawkins

Richard Dawkins, looking more credible than usual.

The everyday stories of life with Bosco and Moly gradually began to give way to vicious and unfunny satirical attacks, now written in reasonably literate English. For example, there are the "Eccles Bad Hynm Award", where our hero interviews the writers of such masterpieces as "Shine, Jesus, Shine", a "Book of St Richard", where the life of the blessed Richard Dawkins is related, and a variety of brutally cruel pastiches of contemporary religious attitudes.

Eccles himself continues to be a "saved pusson", and you may regard some of the more literate writings as being by his assistants, Ecclesiastes, Ecclesiam and E. Cake, if you don't think he wrote it all himself.

Ecclesiastes

Eccles's secretary, Ecclesiastes.

Who Eccles is not: He's not Damian Thompson. He's not a priest, he's not a professional journalist, he's not anyone at all well known.

Who Eccles is: Well he claims to be a saved pusson. If you have read this far, then you is slightly saved too.

Bible bashing

Totally irrelevant picture to finish off.

Monday, 3 September 2012

Let's all be pilgrims

For an imaginative holiday this autumn, why not become a pilgrim? No religious beliefs are necessary, as we highlight some of the excursions on offer.


Novus Ordo Ultra

St Daryl's offers a liberal pilgrimage for those who don't think Vatican II went far enough.

Who is leading the pilgrimage? Hey, we don't have leaders as such; however, Fr Arthur will be at the front, walking backwards so that he can face the congregation at all times.

Where are we going? This is a bit of a mystery - we rather hope that Fr Arthur doesn't lead us over a cliff. But, hey, it doesn't matter where we're going, or even if we all go to the same place. There's no such thing as a sacred site in the 21st century.

Is everyone welcome? Of course. We will particularly welcome atheists, Muslims and Buddhists, who are currently under-represented in the modern Catholic church.


Genes Makyth Man

The arms of New College, Oxford (the motto is being corrected to "Genes Makyth Man").

The Foundation Church of Dawkins offers a Dawkins-themed pilgrimage to the sacred places associated with Dawkins.

Visit the grave of Chrissie the chicken, about which Richard wrote a Ph.D. thesis! See the shop of the blind watchmaker who broke Richard's watch! Visit Marks and Spencer, where Dawkins buys his selfish jeans! Ride in a bus bearing the Dawkins message: "God is probably not riding on this bus!" See the police station to which Richard would have taken the Pope, if he had been allowed to arrest him!

BBC Quarry 1

Visit BBC Quarry Number 1, where the future Mrs Dawkins filmed many adventures


Mormons! Come and see the sacred places visited by the Angel Mitromni!

Yes, until the year 2012, British Mormons felt left out: the keystone of the Mormon faith was that God's final message to mankind was delivered in America. But then the Angel Mitromni came to England, and now British Mormonism is flourishing!

Mitromni

The Angel Mitromni

Visit the holy city of London, where the Angel Mitromni spake unto Boris, saying, "How pathetic are thy Olympics!" See the Temple of Miliband, at which Mitromni spake unto Ed, saying "Nice to meet you, David. What do you do, exactly?"

Sacred plates

The sacred plates (now washed) on which the Angel Mitromni's lunch was served

The Angel Mitromni's words have been transcribed in the Book of Gaffes, a work sacred to all British Mormons.