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.

Damian's Last Post

From Saturday's Daily Telegraph, or possibly not.

As most people will know by now, Damian Thompson is leaving the Daily Telegraph after an entirely amicable beating up by "self-content officer", "editor-in-chief" and "supreme commander", Jason Seiken. This blog has been given exclusive rights to the Dame's last Telegraph column, the one that was never actually printed.

Jason Seiken - he wants you to consume great content. Or something.

Just what is happening at the Telegraph? Mekon lookalike Jason Seiken has sacked nearly all the staff and from now is going to write the entire newspaper himself. However, all is not lost: reports are coming in that my friend Brainy Gordon is still on board. Brainy is known for her tasteful memoir The wrong knickers; some have compared her descriptions of the angst felt by young ladies seeking men to Jane Austen at her best ("Fie, Mr Bingley! You have sent me the bloomers of Lady Catherine de Bourgh by mistake!"). Brainy is said to be working on a sequel, to be called The wrong bra, or My cup runneth over. My spies tell me that she is in line to become the new business editor of the Telegraph.

Professor Gordon. The badge reminds her how to spell her own name.

I myself am moving on to pastures new. After giving the best years of my life to the Telegraph and recruiting such star bloggers as James Delingpole, David Lindsay, Martin Salter, Gerald Warner, and George Pitcher, I have decided to take my talents elsewhere. Of course I do have my regular column at the Spectator, in which I introduce readers to composers they may never have heard of before, such as the "three Bs" - Bach, Beethoven and Mozart - but this hardly pays enough to keep me in CDs.

So I am currently weighing up various offers: the Australian Pottymouth Gazette, incorporating Rolf Harris's Kangaroo-tying Weekly, is looking for a new correspondent specialising in Catholicism, cupcakes and custard, and I may be in with a chance there. Alternatively, my old friend Cardinal Vincent Nichols has been getting a bad press lately - mostly from me - so I am thinking of offering my services as his new press officer.

Of course, since he suppressed the Protect the Pope blog, Bishop Campbell has also started feeling unwanted. I have written to him, offering to revive the PtP blog, leavening its usual heretic-smiting with a few witty anecdotes about Gladys Mills and Noele Gordon (mother of my friend Brainy!) We'll see if he bites!

Bishop Campbell asks for an extra helping of custard.

One of the great things about my blog is the number of daughter blogs that it has inspired. I regularly read Mundabor's blog, although I don't really understand his references to Pope Quisling and the Sodo-Nazis - I think they must be some sort of rock group.

I even read Bosco's blog!

Then there are Catholicism Pure and Simple, Eccles is Saved, All along the watchtower, the donkey man, etc. Of course my favourite blog of all is On the Side of the Angels, written by my great friend the Archbishop of Corby.

Dude, aren't you homologising the contradictorily monolithic contextualisms of mimetic space, by disregarding the tensely granulated actualities of logocentric wholeness?

So, what else is happening at the Telegraph? There's still a strong religious presence, both from the slightly silly wing of the Catholic Church (Tim Stanley) and the Monster Raving Pelosi church (Cristina Odone); Geoffrey Lean (aged 107) is there to warn us of the dangers of a new technology called the "horseless carriage"; and Dan Hodges is ready to give his expert opinion on the World Cup (apparently England are hot favourites), UKIP (not likely to get any MEPs), and Ed Miliband (a man of impeccable table manners).

The affable Dan Hodges.

Although I am sorry to let my blogging sheep wander unattended, I have every confidence that they will continue to generate click-bait by writing controversial articles, such as "Do Muslims cause climate change, or should we be blaming Steve Gerrard?"

So, farewell to all the readers of my blog, most of whom were banned long ago by my zealous team of Sri Lankan "muddlerators" (thanks, Eccles!) as soon as they said anything intelligent. I'm not generally in favour of euthanasia, but I've arranged for the last remaining trolls - mainly mollusc-molesters, Dawkinsites, incognito deacons, Fabian teenage girls, and of course a coach-load of "Phil" sockpuppets - to be sent to the Lord Falconer Death Camp, as they clearly cannot live without me. Byeee!

Freed from the evil Telegraph Empire, Damian looks 20 years younger already!