How to conduct a trial for schism

This is another in our long-running series on "How to be a good Pope", which is read regularly by Pope Francis and his likely successors, Cardinals Cupich, Roche and Fernández (surely, Sarah, Burke and Müller ?) for useful advice.

In fact, if you think YOU may be the next pope but three, it's probably a good move to keep up to date with this series.

All good friends, really!

Some time in your papacy you may find someone who disagrees violently with you - even though you are the Holy Father and infallible in everything you say. Even half-remembered chats to Scalfari (RIP) and ex-aeroplana pronouncements on long flights are infallible. As is calling homosexuals "Massimo Faggiolis" (my Italian is not great but I think this means "Big Beans", which is a well-known term of abuse).

Luckily, the Catholic Church has a remedy for dissidents, an extrajudicial criminal trial for schism.

"Extrajudicial" is an interesting word. I think it means "sentence first, verdict afterwards", as the Queen of Hearts (also infallible) says in "Alice in Wonderland". It certainly doesn't mean a nice public trial, with you and your adversary - let's call him Archbishop Vinegar, so that nobody will think I'm talking about a real person - getting into the witness box and being insulted by men in silly wigs (or whatever the equivalent of the English system is).

"Just answer the question, Mr Francis."

Vinegar's accusations are many and varied. Some of the most hurtful are that you pull the wings off butterflies and kick lovable fluffy kittens. Good grief, if a pope can't do that, then who can?

Of course you do have many real skeletons in your cupboard, some of which Vinegar has managed to find. Others are well-known to any knowledgeable Catholic - your fondness for protecting unsavoury characters such as that dreadful painter Marko the Ripper, for example. No chance of his being subject to an extrajudicial criminal trial! He knows too much...

Anyway, after Vinegar's trial, or rather, before it, comes the sentence. You have checked with your advisers, and we no longer use the rack or the iron maiden - well, except at the wildest of Cardinal Cocoa's drug orgies - and all you can really do is excommunicate him. What an anti-climax!

Archbishop Vinegar will not be expecting this either.

---

Nothing to do with the above (or is it?), but the AI program Copilot kindly produced a picture of the famous Annibale Bugsbunni, to whom we all owe so much. It would be a pity not to use it here.

What's up, Holy Father?

Pentecost Special

Some of this is true, some of it exaggerated. Decide for yourselves which is which.

To Mass on Pentecost Sunday. We were told in advance that there would be a bring-food-and-share-it meal afterwards, encouraged to wear our own national costumes and bring our traditional food (we're a fairly diverse parish).

First surprise: the three Mass readings weren't in English (or even Latin). Admittedly, they were printed in English on the service sheet, but it sometimes became impossible to match them to the foreign-language readings we heard.

"... how does it happen that each hears him in his own native language?"

(N.B.: we didn't this time.)

One example: an African in traditional costume read the bit from the Acts of the Apostles. Actually, not a great loss, as he has such a heavy accent that I cannot always follow him when he reads in English, either.

The other languages used were easier to identify.

"What traditional English costume was Eccles wearing?" You may ask. I had several possibilities, but I won't reveal which one I eventually chose.

Option 1.

Option 2.

Option 3.

I did my bit for diversity by putting some left-over Swedish kronor in the collection, rather than the usual 5p. I've been trying to get rid of them for several years.

Anyway, we come to the bring-food-and-share-it. What traditional English foods would appeal to everyone? Tripe and onions? Black pudding? Jellied eels? Eccles cakes (of course)?

And what traditional foreign foods will they offer in return? Frogs' legs? Snails? Sheep's eyes? Korean hot dogs? Yummy!

In the end we were blessed by food from the New Hebrides / Vanuatu, where traditionally they ate missionaries.

Delicious!

Nobody expects the Argentine Inquisition

Nobody expects the Argentine Inquisition! Our main weapon is kissing... kissing and healing... two main weapons. And a fanatical devotion to the Pope. Three main weapons. Oh, and adultery. I'll come in again.

You are charged with the crime of quoting Monty Python yet again.

Consider this post as another item in our long-running series "How to be a good pope" - designed for those who went to a conclave and were elected to the top job by an overwhelming 120 votes (this slightly surprised you, as there were only 115 cardinal-electors, but then your mates in the St Gallstone Mafia weren't taking any chances!)

Remember the Supreme Sacred Congregation of the Roman and Universal Inquisition? Well, it's now called the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, which doesn't sound nearly as impressive. And it needs a new boss. The first chap to run the show was Antonio Ghislieri, who later became Pope Pius V and a saint, so you must be very careful to choose a successor of equal merit.

St Pius V - not known for writing books about kissing.

Anyway, you seem to have found the ideal candidate. You already have a track record of brilliant appointments to dicasteries - the Catholic World is lost in wonder at the exploits of Arthur "Two-dinners" Rogue in the Divine Worship office - and your old pal Archbishop Victor, alias "Touchy-feely", looks like a worthy successor to Pope St Pius V.

A quick look at his CV shows that he wrote a book called Kiss me quick, baby. A guide to healing. We're hoping that this will be made into a blockbuster film, with Austen Ivereigh in the role of the great healer. Moreover, Touch-feely helped ghost-write your own bestselling Amorous Letitia, the story of a libertine who was welcomed back into the church and (I never got that far, but I'm guessing) ended up as a Jesuit priest. This sort of thing is guaranteed to annoy the rigid backwardist indietrists who are making life so difficult for you.

Now, Touchy-Feely, how do you plan to "sex up" Catholic teaching?

Good. You've made another brilliant appointment. Box ticked.

What's next on the agenda? Oh yes, sending the boys round to beat up Bishop Strickland, who's been stepping out of line by giving a moral lead. No problem...

It's WRATH Pride!

We are absolutely FURIOUS that governments, businesses, and even churches are ignoring WRATH PRIDE!

Other deadly sins get their month of glory - we see the rainbow flags of LUST PRIDE (usually abbreviated to PRIDE), and we would see the flags of SLOTH PRIDE if they had bothered to design one, but oh no, WRATH PRIDE isn't good enough to be recognised!

A post-Vatican II WRATH MASS.

Celebrating WRATH MONTH is very easy. Unlike LUST MONTH you don't have to take you clothes off, and unlike SLOTH MONTH you don't have to turn over in bed and say "Leave me alone." No, all we are asking government, businesses, churches etc. to do is what is very natural, and which many do already - be rude to those you serve.

The provisional WRATH PRIDE flag.

Roger Hargreaves has kindly designed a WRATH PRIDE Flag for us - the alternative was simply to use a red rag, known to enrage bulls, but this would have been harder to recognise. We want to COME OUT and show our ANGER to the WORLD!

Batley Townswomen's Guild hold a WRATH party in honour of their most famous son, Arthur Roche.

Some bigoted people condemn us, saying that WRATH is a sin, but how can it be if so many people enjoy it? "Love thy neighbour" is all very well, but "Scream at thy neighbour" comes much more naturally to many of us. So let's celebrate it! STAMP OUT WRATHPHOBIA! With both feet if necessary!

See? Pope Francis is backing us!

Well, that's all I have to say on the matter, you tedious boring blog-readers. You make me SICK! And I hope I make you SICK too!

What happened after Francis left

As I walked through the wilderness of this world, I lighted on a certain place where was a den, and laid me down in that place to sleep; and as I slept, I dreamed a dream. I dreamed...*

It was two weeks after the departure of Pope Francis from the chair of St Peter. In my dream it was not clear to me whether he had died, resigned, been carried off to the funny farm, or been arrested by the Swiss Guard. In any case, a conclave had been held and Cardinal Sarah was quickly elected Pope. Nobody wanted a Francis II, and even the Cupiches and Marxes realised that they could not get away with it.

Noisy popes? Who on earth did Cardinal Sarah have in mind?

Pope Pius XIII (as he now was) wasted no time in tidying up the mess left by his predecessor. When he emtered the papal apartments he removed all the Pachamama idols that were cluttering up the place and burned them in public - tschugguelling them into the Tiber left the risk that they might be fished out again. He made the possession of the Pachamama dolls an excommunicable offence - much to the distress of Austen Ivereigh, who had planned to give his nearest and dearest Pachamamas for Christmas.

No longer needed in the Catholic Church.

Then he turned his attention to some of Pope Francis's writings. Instantly he repealed Traditionis Custodes, much to the distress of Arthur Roche, who turned out to have backed the wrong horse. Uncle Arthur was taken away from the Congregation for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments and sent back to his native Batley to sort out the problems of the schoolteacher who was in hiding after showing his class a cartoon of the Prophet Mohammed. We did not see him again.

Amoris Laetitia was next for the bonfire, and the Dubia were answered with a definite "No, yes, yes, yes, yes!" to the delight of the surviving cardinals, Vice-Popes Burke and Brandmüller.

"Synods?" said the new pope. "Who needs synods, let alone synods about synods? They're cancelled, and anyone seen trying to set up a synod will be severely disciplined by the new Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, now renamed the Inquisition once more."

A tense moment in discussions at the Batley Townswomen's Synod.

"A good morning's work," said Pius XIII. "I'm now going to visit Emeritus Pope Benedict for lunch, and see whether he has any more suggestions."

In the afternoon of the first day the new pope excommunicated Joe Biden and Nancy Pelosi, sacked Jeffrey Sachs, and laicised Fr James Martin LGBTSJ. "Francis bullied the Order of Malta, and the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate," he told his friends. "I have my sights on the Jesuits and their Satanic America magazine."

Then he sorted out the German bishops and turned his attention to China, and ...

Unfortunately, it was only a dream.

*John Bunyan.

Catholics keep out!

It is becoming increasingly obvious that Christians - and especially Catholics - are not welcome in public life, and should know that their rightful place is in hiding or on the scaffold.

Crime scene, as seen on television.

Midsomer Murders, episode 3019. Chief Inspector Barnaby (either the one with the crazy wife or the one with the boring dog, it doesn't matter) turns up with his usual jovial cry of "Hello, George, what have you got for me today?". The pathologist, Kate Wilding, gives him a puzzled glance and replies.

"Well Tom, or do I mean John? Anyway, you can see that this chap has had his nostrils stuffed with plutonium (as it is episode 3019 we are running out of original ways to kill people), and he has been dead about six weeks."

"Let me through, I'm a priest!"

An evil cackling priest walks by. Barnaby realises that this must be the criminal, but his contract says that he must wait until there have been another three murders before finally arresting him.

Next, the British Army turns up and asks to drive its tanks all over the place where the dead body is lying. "Don't you realise this is a crime scene? Go away!"

The general in charge replies, "But China has invaded Midsomer and we are the last line of defence!"

"This is still a crime scene. Go away!"

Crime scene, in reality.

A man is dying from stab wounds. The 999 emergency services are called, "Which service do you require: Fire, Priest, or Ambulance? There's no use calling the police, they're all out on gay pride marches."

In fact the priest is the last to arrive. At the crime scene there is already a blood-crazed assassin, several witnesses, an NHS troupe of nurses doing a dance to put on Youtube, and six policemen with alsatians who wandered in having heard reports that someone had been using the wrong pronouns.

A crime scene.

"Let me in, I'm Father Brown, a Catholic priest. I want to give the dead man the Last Rites. This is a fundamental part of the Catholic faith."

"Get out. This is a crime scene. We can't have it contaminated."

A CRASH! is heard as a sergeant in size-14 boots trips over the dying man.

"On second thoughts, Rev, I'm arresting you. On television it's always the priest wot dunnit."

"I want to question you about all those dead bodies in your churchyard."

The Accelerated Dying Legislation.

To their great credit, church leaders are fairly united in opposing the proposed "Yes, you can push your granny off a bus if she's rich enough and too confused to say 'No'" legislation. One exception is George Carey, star of Carey on Killing, the retired Christian who was once Archbishop of Canterbury. But they are put in their place by a learned professor, one Alice Roberts, who has contributed two brilliant pieces to this blog in the past, namely the amazing revelations that Miracles are just a bit... unlikely and Dead people don't come back to life.

Alice hits the nail with her head on the head.

She's got a good point, hasn't she? But we should go further. People with religious views, whether they be popes (no, he won't say anything helpful), bishops, priests, or laymen - even Anglicans devoted to this blog, such as Giles Fraser and Peter Hitchens - SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO COMMENT. We welcome atheist leaders like, er, little Alice in Blunderland, BECAUSE THEY HAVE THE RIGHT OPINIONS.

Got the message, Catholics? You're not wanted. Ask Henry VIII and Queen Elizabeth I. And any Anglicans - or even atheists - who agree with you about the morality of Accelerated Suicide - why, you're just closet Catholics! Get lost!

"It's no use complaining now. Mr Gates's App said you'd consented to dying. Don't worry, we'll get the bug fixed in the next release."

Monty Python's Life of Jorge

The surviving members of the Monty Python team have gathered together with some friends to produce a new comedy film, Monty Python's Life of Jorge, about a perfectly innocent Argentinian man who is frequently mistaken for the anti-Christ.

Chapman/Jones lookalikes play Jorge (seen here in papal clothes) and his mother.

Script-writer John Zmirak has adapted some of the Life of Brian catchphrases to the hilarious story of a man with some followers who think he is the Messiah (see for example the "Where Pachamama is" website), but also many others who think he is the exactly the opposite (hi, Mundabor!)

Top quality trolling from a Pachamama fan.

Some of our favourite Life of Jorge catchphrases are:

He's not the anti-Messiah, he's just a very naughty pope.

What have the Roman popes done for us, apart from 
preserving traditional worship and teaching, and giving 
leadership to the worldwide Church? 

It's every Jesuit's right to have babies if he wants them.
But ... you can't HAVE babies, Jim!
Don't you oppress me!

And of course...

Always look on the gloomy side of life.

How to get rid of the Latin Mass

It's time for another in our long-running series on "How to be a good pope," which is proving unmissable reading for those cardinals itching to sit on the throne of St Peter.

The story so far: your predecessor, Pope Benedictus, who lives entirely on German beer and is therefore still alive at the age of 103, wrote a Motor Propeller, Summa Holiday (memo: check title) permitting the wider use of the traditional Latin Mass.

Translating some updates to the liturgy into Latin.

Now you always hated Latin at school, ever since Mr Pacelli gave you six of the best for mistranslating the Lord's Prayer. And there is evidence of widespread support for your views - why only yesterday you got a letter on the subject which said "old, unpopular, incomprehensible, really rather pointless, better alternatives available." Admittedly they were talking about you, but it's the thought that counts.

So the time has come to repeal Summa Holiday. You were waiting for Benedictus to die, but you saw him out jogging this morning, and you are wondering whether he might even outlive you. So you have written your own Motor Propeller. In Italian of course, as it would be shooting yourself in the foot if you used Latin. Anyway, your F- grade in Latin is still a sore point.

Still, to make it look official, you have given it a Latin title.

The cover page of your Motor Propeller.

Romanes Eunt Domus is - your advisers assure you - an idiomatic way of saying "No more Latin", and will make the public realise you are serious.

The first thing to do is to give a press conference to which none of the press is invited, just a bunch of chatty Italian bishops. That way, your plans can leak out unofficially (as your mate Arthur Sousa points out, "If it ain't on a tape-recorder, it never happened, and that goes for the New Testament too.")

Now ask a few dead-beat journalists to make up reasons why the Traditional Latin Mass needs suppressing. They will say it is:

* fascist, alt-right, Trumpist, racist;
* homophobic, transphobic, claustrophobic;
* expected to cause climate change: it has already killed off 
all Rome's polar bears;
* beloved of Burke, Sarah, Müller, Pell, and  all the other 
loonies who used to be your friends;

and so on. Then you can go ahead with it. One top tip is to replace Cardinal Sarah at the Congregation of Divine Worship with his deputy, bluff Yorkshireman Friar (Arthur) Tuck. You've never been able to understand a word he says, but you're fairly sure that he hates Latin ("ee, tha's a poncey southern language!") so he will help you implement Romanes Eunt Domus, and take the blame if it all goes wrong. Make him a cardinal so that you can keep an eye on him.

When I become Pope, my first encyclical will be called On Ilkla Moor Baht' at.

Quod erat demonstrandum!

---

Addendum, one day later. Uncle Arthur got the job, and here he is beginning his revision of the liturgy.

The Book of Covidicus 15: a new threat

Continued from Chapter 14.

1. So the weeks rolled on, and the children of Bri-tain received the magic vixen that promised immortality.

2. And they continued to wear masks, even when walking in the wilderness miles from any other life save the locusts, quails, and wild beasts.

3. Now Bo-sis consulted with a team of wise men known as SAGEs: these included experts in astrology, decolonized poetry, necromancy, non-binary algebra, voodoo, post-feminist transgender studies, civilised engineering, anti-racist sackbut-playing, wizardry, and comedy.

4. The last of these was Neil, son of Fergus, who had surrounded himself with beautiful models, all of which gave wrong answers when questioned.

The sages tell Bo-sis how to deal with the plague.

5. So, as the sages continued to deliberate, Bo-sis remembered his solemn promise to the children of Bri-tain, that he would not require them to carry papers, known as passports, to prove that they had received the vixen.

6. Thus he spake out one day, saying, "I have had a jolly good wheeze, chaps! Let us require you to carry papers, known as passports, to prove that you have received the vixen!"

7. But before any serious decision could be taken, Bo-sis was forced to launch an assault on the pool known as Hartley, which had been possessed by the Starmerites as long as anyone could remember. For this was the time known as by-election.

The famous Statue of Liberty at Hartley's Pool.

8. It came to pass that Hartley's pool fell to Bo-sis, and he rejoiced greatly. And the Starmerites wept, saying, "The workers of Hartley's pool are indeed different from our own people of Islington: for they are hewers of timber, and drawers of water, and they hardly ever kneel down in memory of the blessed Floyd."

9. However, the people of Islington rejoiced, for Genghis, known as Khan, was reappointed as supreme leader of the Londonites, following a massive support from the criminal community.

10. Now, the time was fast approaching when the third step of Bo-sis's road map should be reached. Thus, the children of Bri-tain could visit each other's dwellings once more.

11. Also, gatherings outside were permitted, with no more than thirty people allowed, unless they had come to tear down statues, loot the shops, or attack the guards known as policemen.

12. And the SAGEs issued instructions, explaining how the children of Bri-tain should hug each other: for it was so long since people had been permitted so to do that they had completely forgotten.

Two members of SAGE demonstrate the Sign of Peace.

13. But there now came a new threat from far India: for the plague had mutated into a new more fearsome disease, known as Vindaloo, which caused a fever, a burning of the tongue, and an acidic stomach. The only known remedy for this illness was to drink of the mighty potion known as lager.

14. And the children of Bri-tain were severely perturbed, as this was likely to delay the promised return to normal living, which was due a month thence: thus they would be unable to finish the Book of Covidicus and move on to the book of Numbskulls.

Continued in Chapter 16.

Jupich Iscariot condemns statement from the other 11 disciples

Jerusalem Times, Good Friday, AD 33.

Cardinal Jupich Iscariot, winner of the World Cup of Bad Apostles, today condemned a statement from the other eleven disciples, which had been issued from a secret address ("The upper room") to mark the crucifixion of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Jupich described the statement as ill-considered and felt that its critical attack on Governor Joe Pilaten was inappropriate. Unfavourable comments about the habits of Joe's pet camel, A, were also considered offensive.

Cardinal Iscariot puts on his "angry" face.

The statement from the disciples had been a simple affirmation of Christian doctrine, but this is considered dangerous in today's political climate, and is likely to get many people into trouble with the authorities.

Governor Joe Pilaten is not amused either.

Joe Pilaten himself is generally regarded as a harmless buffoon with an obsession for washing his hands, although the Disciples' statement is very critical of his fondness for taking innocent life (completing a task that his mentor Barack Heroda failed to finish many years ago).

Naturally Jupich, given the choice between affirming Christian doctrine and pleasing the governing authorities in the United States of Judaea, will drop his religious principles every time. Indeed, there are already reports that he is involved in a scandal known as Thirtypiecesofsilvergate. Still, since he is a powerful cardinal, his words will always be heeded, however crass they may be.

Requiem Mass for Twitter victims

We shall be holding a Requiem Mass for all those slain by the tyrant Rasputin "Jack" Dorsey in the recent Twitter massacres. Top of the list is @realDonaldTrump, known for his very modest tweets such as "EXCUSE ME FOR MENTIONING IT, BUT THERE MAY HAVE BEEN SOME VOTING IRREGULARITIES RECENTLY. I COULD BE WRONG." and "JOE BIDEN IS A DEEPLY RELIGIOUS MAN BUT I THINK I MIGHT POSSIBLY BE A SLIGHTLY BETTER PRESIDENT THAN HE WOULD BE."

We are lighting a candle for every vanished account.

But there are others, many with names such as @MAGATRUMPISGOD, @IAMATRUMPBOT, @TRUMP20202020, @THATTRUMPGUYISSWEET, @QANONNYNONNYNO, @MASSIMOLOVESTRUMP, and @JESUITSFORDONALD (this last one is believed to be a sockpuppet of Fr James Martin SJ). This leaves Twitter in the hands of more respectable users, such as the President of Iran, the Chinese Secret Police, and Pope Francis.

Donald Trump retires into private life.

Rasputin has also asked that we include in our Mass a hymn for Twitter's share price, which is fading faster than the number of users.

Abide with me, fast falls the Twitter price,
Jack's shares are tumbling, that's not very nice.

Our prayers are with Rasputin at this time.

As Catholics we firmly believe that there is life after Twitter, but whether the after-life is Gab, Parler, or one of the places with silly names such as Sp3rn, is a matter for theological debate.

Sir Michael versus St Michael

Sir Michael Palin, by and large a very funny comedian and all round nice guy (yes, I've even met him), has objected to the medal that goes with the Most Distinguished Order of St Michael and St George, as he finds it offensive to see St Michael stamping on the head of Satan. (The medal was redesigned a few years ago to make Satan white rather than black, because everyone knows that Jesus is black but Satan is white. Ask Justin Welby.)

The earlier form of the medal.

"It would be much nicer to see St Michael shaking hands with Satan, perhaps even offering him a cup of tea," explained the great man. "As a veteran of Monty Python, Ripping Yarns, etc., I have made it my lifetime's work not to offend people. Rudeness, blasphemy, naughtiness - they were always right out!"

A tasteful inoffensive scene from The Life of Brian.

"As a celebrity, it is my duty these days to stand up for religion," continued St Sir Michael. "Now that Christianity has more-or-less disappeared - at least in the circles I mix in - we have to remember the great Commandment that Black Lives Matter and White Lives don't. In point of fact, I don't wear my medal in public, only in the bath, and no one ever sees it. But if they did see it... well, nobody expects the BLMish Inquisition!"

As seen in Sir Michael's Ripping Yarns, and not likely to offend anyone.

We tried to contact St Michael about his scandalous habit of stamping on the head of the Devil, but we were unsuccessful (as Piers Morgan put it, "Just because he's an Archangel, he thinks he's too grand to come on my rotten television programme"). Likewise, our attempts to contact Pope Francis in order to get the saint de-canonized were unsuccessful - apparently he has a backlog of rigid traddy saints that he has to sack first. Too bad.

Enough of this filth!

Nobody expects the Congregation for Divine Worship!

The scene: the bishop's palace in Knoxville, Tennessee. Bishop Richard Stika is admiring himself in the mirror.

The door bursts open, and Cardinal Robert Sarah, Archbishop Arthur Roche, and Fr Corrado Maggioni enter.

Sarah: NOBODY EXPECTS THE CONGREGATION FOR DIVINE WORSHIP AND THE DISCIPLINE OF THE SACRAMENTS! Our main weapon is Silence.

Roche: And Cinnabons.

Sarah: All right, Silence and Cinnabons. Two main weapons. Corrado, read out the charges.

The Guinea Inquisition.

Maggioni: Bishop Richard Stika, alias Sticky Ricky, you are charged with defying the CDW by insisting that people receive Communion in the hand, and stating that you will ban anyone who insists on receiving on the tongue.

Roche: Even though we have already stated that everyone has the right to receive on the tongue. Bites into a cinnabon.

Maggioni: You also published the following ludicrous instructions:

Before leaving your pew you will put on full protective gear, such as a suit of armour, a diver's suit, or a cyberman costume. You will walk at exactly 3.10686 m.p.h., maintaining a distance of 6 feet 7.402 inches, no more, no less, from your neighbour. Once at the distribution point, you will remove all your clothes, and shower for twenty minutes in an alcohol-based shower.

Maintain social distancing!

Standing on the floor at the point marked X (or kneeling if you really insist), you will extend your arms and hands toward the priest or deacon, with the palm of your non-writing hand facing up and completely flat, supported by your writing hand. Those who are ambidextrous should use their feet.

After receiving, you will jump into the bath of boiling custard provided, and then, screaming in agony, put on your protective clothes and return to your seat.

How do you plead?

The door bursts open, and Cardinal Luis Ladaria Ferrer, Archbishop Giacomo Morandi, and Archbishop Charles Scicluna of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith burst in.

Ladaria: NOBODY EXPECTS THE SPANISH INQUISITION!

Ladaria is on the case!

Roche: Hey, we were here first!

Ladaria: But we want to nail him for heresy. "Mass is not the worship of Jesus. We adore Jesus, but we worship the Father," for example.

Stika: You've all got it in for me. I blame Church Militant. They've been telling everyone what I said. Sobs.

The true facts about the SSPX

I don't think I have ever blogged about the Society of St Pius X before, but there has been too much acrimonious debate about it recently, involving people like Field-Marshal Taylor, Lieutenant Steve Kojak, about sixteen people called Gordon - one of whom wants me to @askyourantimoli - and so on. Even Father Z has waded in, guns blazing.

A snapshot of Catholic Twitter.

Clearly everyone is waiting for me to give a ruling. Right, here goes.

SSPX is wonderful. Schismatic. The only true faith. A bunch of disobedient weirdos. The best hope for mankind. With invalid orders. Much better than the "ordinary" post-Vatican II Church. Unable to organize a decent clown Mass. But its priests are approved of by all Popes. Although not Pius X. Well of course not you numbskull he wasn't alive then. Condemned by all decent people. Perfectly able to conduct Masses and Confessions. Yeah but only in emergencies if you can't get a proper Jesuit. You're starting to annoy me, buster. Get lost and take your poncy Latin with you. Just watch it or you'll get a schism in the back of your head. Oh yeah you and whose army? BAM! POW! OUCH! YAROOH! BEAST!

Well, we seem to have reached a consensus there.

Meanwhile, the "liberal" wing of the Catholic Church continues to misbehave while nobody's watching. Recently, Blase Cupich, the World's Worst Cardinal, blessed a pantomime horse (well, it was billed as a Chinese 'lion-awakening' ritual, but we know that the pantomime season hadn't quite ended).

Hail to thee, O Pantomama!

Uncle Blase has also been a bit dismissive of the power of prayer. That could just be because he's been addressing the Chinese lion-god by mistake.

Now, when the SSPX wars are over, can we go back to smiting the real heretics?

"The pantomime Cardinal will be along soon."