Career options in the modern world

As regular readers of this blog will know, I am a particularly nasty piece of work. My way of relaxing in the evening is to pull the wings off butterflies or to torture sweet little kittens. So, watching the way poor Alfie Evans has been treated, I was pleased to see lots of possible new career openings.

Judge.

It's a pity they abolished hanging. Unlike Peter Cook, I do have enough Latin to be a judge, and I would have loved to be able to sentence some screaming villain - or preferably someone totally innocent - to death by hanging. I look really nice in a black cap. Also, a judge is the boss in his own court (sorry, no inclusive language on this blog). Fawning barristers address him as "My Lord".

And in this modern era, judges can sentence people to death once more. Oh, not terrorists who kill hundreds of people, there's no fun in that. Still, they can sentence helpless children to death, by removal of water, nutrition, even air, if some doctors say it is the right thing to do. Then they watch the parents suffer! But they won't let judges wear a black cap.

Doctor.

I wouldn't be a very good doctor. A priest came to see me complaining of clergyman's knee (this was one of those rigid priests who still thought that kneeling was an appropriate activity). I helped him by taking out his appendix out with a carving knife: the operation was a success but the patient died.

In the bad old days doctors had the Hippocratic oath, so abortion was out, and euthanasia was also forbidden. Especially the unwanted euthanasia of a child, where the parents were fighting for his life. Not any more! No matter if the whole world is shocked - the Pope, the Italian ambassador, the President of Poland, sundry other Americans, etc. Even Kim Jong-un said "Crikey! I wish I'd thought of that!"

Policeman.

Hello, hello, hello! I want to join the police force to maintain law and order, to serve the causes of justice, and to help the public. So I could spend the night standing outside a child's hospital room, making sure that nobody came in and interfered with him by giving him oxygen or water! Ho ho ho ho ho ho ho!

Bishop.

SITUATIONS VACANT. ARCHBISHOP OF KNOTTY ASH. Would suit someone who is vaguely interested in Catholicism (no previous experience necessary). Warning - if you're the sort who likes to give a moral lead on subjects such as putting children to death, then this job is not for you. No, we're looking for someone who will network well with non-Christians, and definitely won't rock the boat.

And don't even think about becoming Cardinal Archbishop of Elephant and Castle, as you have to have your spine removed as part of the terms and conditions of employment.

As Jesus said, "Well you *could* stick up for the weak and helpless, but I don't advise it as it might make you unpopular."

"I now declare this death camp open."

Lenten Reflections on Modernism

This blog will soon be closing for Lent, as I retire into the contemplative life of a hermit. I shall move to a shed on the Costa Blanca, where my only companions will be my four faithful hippopotamuses: Dolan, Pickles, Batmanghelidjh, and Auntie Moly. As a modern St Francis - or maybe St Augustine of Hippo - I shall exchange spiritually nourishing ideas with these highly intelligent creatures, but, except possibly on some Sundays, there will be nothing new to read on this blog.

Auntie Moly has a spiritually nourishing idea.

So, to give you material for reflection during Lent, here are some thoughts on modernism in a religious context.

Pre-Vatican II. A spiritual experience. Note the clouds of incense.

Post-Vatican II. Worshippers don't even know where they're going.

The revolution in Catholicism can be traced to three events, which collectively are known as "Vatican II". First, there was the Beeching report, saying that churches should be modernized, some being closed down and the others becoming soul-less. The results can be seen above - in the "modernist" service we don't even know which way the priest's going to be facing. "Extraordinary form" services still exist, but the Spirit of Vatican II is against them, and they are often only available to the lucky few in churches run by enthusiasts.

Traddy worship. Note how Fr Boycott's vestments are liturgically appropriate.

Bad vestments with the priest's name on the back!

Second, there was the move to bad vestments, and the rush to complete all one's worship in one day. Before Vatican II, a Mass could easily last five days, with intervals for lunch and tea. Experienced worshippers would use terms such as "night-watchman" (usually a disparaging reference to a deacon who came in for the night-time vigil), and "state of the pitch" (a reference to the quality of the unaccompanied Gregorian chant). These concepts have now largely disappeared.

An asperges from Pope Pertwee.

A guitar Mass with Pope Capaldi.

Finally, there was the Medicus Quis. In the olden days, Pope St Pertwee's main recipe for salvation was to "reverse the polarity of the neutron flow," which in theological terms means "turn back, O Man, forswear thy foolish ways." He often found salvation via the ventilation shaft (whence came the "rushing wind" of the Holy Spirit), and his services never employed guitars; only rarely did he use gimmicks such as the sonic screwdriver.

Pope Capaldi, on the other hand, relies almost exclusively on the sonic screwdriver. A demon appears? Zap it. A penitent needs a blessing? Zap him (oops. you weren't supposed to use the same setting, Father). Alleluia, zap-zap!

I hope these little thoughts will help you to stay saved during Lent. At least the hippopotamuses appreciated them.