How to be a Catholic blogger

Since the only spiritually nourishing item of news this week is the de-colonization of the Pope, it seemed like a good idea to write about something else. Following the lead of Mundabor, I will give readers the benefit of my ten years' experience (we started here in June 2011 and are expecting some readers to turn up any time now).

Polly the nun, first seen here in 2011.

1. Make money out of it. There is nothing a reader likes more when he clicks on a blog than being asked the following:

i. Do you accept cookies?
ii. Would you like notifications every time more rubbish is posted?
iii. Would you like to install the Ecclesblog App?
iv. Can we come round to your house for tea?
v. How much can you donate ($1,000,000 would be reasonable)?
vi. Would you like to buy some "Saved Eccles" coffee?
vii. Oh, you came here to read the blog? Weird!

As Dr Johnson said "No man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money." Well he was obviously wrong, as I'm not a blockhead am I? I'm not. Honest.

2. Make it all about you. Obviously a Catholic blogger may occasionally say something religious - about as often as the Pope's Twitter account does - but people are really here to know about the exciting life you lead. If you have four pet hippopotamuses, write about them ad nauseam - indeed you could even put up a guest post from Batmanghelidjh (the fat one) in which she describes how wallowing in mud enriches her spiritual life. Or if you did a pilgrimage to Lourdes (the supermarket down the road), then tell people about your struggles in the low-carbon toilet paper aisle.

3. No rude jokes. If the Pope is in hospital, don't say "He has a pain in the backside" accompanied by a picture of Austen Ivereigh. Still less with a picture of James Martin, as that could have a totally misleading interpretation. Just back off, right?

4. Don't be scared to recycle old jokes. I must have used that "Rhino Marx" joke at least half a dozen times. I vow never to do so again. Oh all right, once more for luck.

An old joke.

5. Don't use your real name when posting. Mundabor had that advice too. You use your own name to post something totally innocuous such as "2+2=4" or "Men have XY chromosomes" and the public will beat a path to your door, up the stairs, and into your bedroom, where you're peacefully lying in bed thinking of new insults for Cardinal Becciu. Luckily nobody knows that I am actually an eminent cardinal from Guinea!

6. If you can't think of anything to write, run a poll. Thanks to me the world now knows that the worst hymn ever written is "Lord of the Dance", that the worst Cardinal is Cupich (until the next poll, which is not far away), and the ugliest church is St Francis de Sales, Norton Shores, Michigan. So you know what to avoid.

"We're please to welcome Cardinal Cupich today. And now, Hymn number 666, 'Lord of the Dance'."

7. Post when you feel like it. Professional Catholics have to produce posts, scoops, Youtube stuff, podcasts, interpretative dance videos, etc. etc. on a regular basis. Darn it, even bishops feel they have to produce pastoral letters when all they can think to talk about is carbon footprints and "build back better". Can't they just say "You're all DOOOMED!" and leave it at that?

So, only post when you have something brilliantly incisive and witty to say. Like I do.

Eccles (Nobel Prize for humility).

Parodies make me depressed

Today we are luck enough to have a guest post from Marvin the Paranoid Deacon. The Reverend Mr Marvin writes his own blog, with a special password-protected section that his bishop cannot read.

Our guest blogger.

Parody is the last bastion of the bully (with apologies to Dr Johnson). I've heard of Dr Johnson, and his remark about patriotism. So I thought I'd do a clever parody of his epigram and... no, not a parody. Oh dear, can I start again?

Sir! The Tablet is a scurrilous rag, not worthy of the house of a gentleman.

What I was trying to say is that I get very depressed when I see parodies. For example, there's this organization ACTOR that everyone keeps talking about. It seems to be a parody of the Church of England, or at least its liberal tendency. Abortion, same-sex marriage, homosexual priests, defying the Pope... We've seen all this before, and these ACTORs (who are doubtless all true and faithful Catholics) are simply trying to bully the liberal Anglicans by parodying their views.

Six wives? I left the Catholic Church because I really wanted six husbands!

Excuse me while a pour a bucket of water over my head. You'd like to see a deacon in good standing with water streaming off him, wouldn't you? It would make you laugh, wouldn't it? All right then, here goes.

As a deacon, I am expected to be a martyr.

Now, I was looking around for examples of parody, and, apart from Eccles's blog, I found that the worst examples are in the Bible. That's a book that we deacons like to read in the bath. I've got a special waterproof edition, as I keep dropping it into the water.

You may be familiar with a man called Jesus Christ. We deacons get told about him when we go to deacon classes. But Christ could never have been a deacon in good standing, because he kept telling jokes, being satirical and even making parodies.

Consider that poor Pharisee. By all accounts, he was a Pharisee in good standing. Probably he was a spiritual life coordinator, so that he used to fast twice in a week, go on Twitter to insult Catholic women, and give tithes of all that he possessed. Note that A. Pharisee was his real name - Anthony Pharisee, at a guess. He's more likely to be a real person than the publican, who called himself Mr Peccator, an obviously made-up name. But Jesus bullied him unmercifully.

A Pharisee in good standing.

Christ also made stupid jokes about people straining at gnats and swallowing camels. How depressing. I don't often eat gnats, but I see nothing wrong with swallowing camels. Here's one of my favourite recipes.

I'll swallow camels if I want to!

Well, I hope that you will all take my remarks to heart, and continue to be really nasty to anyone who engages in satire or parody. We're not in this world to have fun... well, I'm not... you try being a manically-depressed deacon sometime.

Genuine book reviews

These book reviews of Eccles's new book How to be a saved pusson were written by the people indicated, and no sockpuppets were used. Honest.

---

Job

1. And the Lord spake unto Job, saying, "Job, my good servant, thou hast suffered many tribulations. Here is a wondrous book by Eccles, that thou mayest read. Hopefully it will comfort thee in thy woe."

2. And Job took the book and said unto himself "Lo! It is a jolly good read. I shall tell all my friends in the Old Testament, that they may also profit from it."

3. But, as he was reading the wise words of Eccles, an angel knocked at the door, and caused Job to drop the book. It fell out of his hands and landed on his toe.

4. And the toe of Job swelled up, and caused unto him grievous pain. Yeah, it was ready to fall off completely.

5. And Job cursed, saying, "It goeth to be one of those days again, doth it not?"

---

Dr Samuel Johnson

I [Boswell] shewed unto Dr Johnson a new book that had arrived that very day, penned by the hand of one Eccles. "I know not the writer," said the Doctor. "Read me some of his words."

I read to him the passage in which Eccles told the story of his Australian aunt, she who had complained about possums knocking over a pile of tin cans in her garden.

"This Eccles is indeed a wise writer," said the Doctor. "He sayeth non possum, while his aunt says possum. But she sayeth I can while her very cans are disordered."

We all laughed merrily at the doctor's brilliant remarks, and I undertook to publish them on my blog.

---

St John the Evangelist

1. And this is the testimony of Eccles, when the Jews sent from Jerusalem priests and Levites to him, to ask him: Who art thou?

2. And he confessed, and did not deny: and he confessed: I am not the Christ.

3.And they asked him: What then? Art thou Damian Thompson? And he said: I am not. Art thou Pope Benedict? And he answered: No.

4. They said therefore unto him: Who art thou, that we may give an answer to them that sent us? What sayest thou of thyself?

5. He said: I am the voice of a saved person blogging in the wilderness. And all who read my blog shall be slightly saved too.

---

William Shakespeare

From This one's a waste of time as well

KING: Tell me, fool, of what manner is this book of Eccles?

FOOL: Sire, it like unto the apple tree that grew in the Garden of Eden. For it contains all the knowledge of good and evil. Then again, it seemeth to me to resemble the golden hippopotamus of legend, that which floated on the breezes of the Hesperides and which led Orlando to destruction in the Pass of Roncesvalles.

KING: Which legend is that, fool? I know it not.

FOOL: Me neither, Sire, I was just testing thee. Still, 'tis an excellent goodly book, and containeth great wisdom.

We is comin to Enggland

We was rellaxin in Anti Moly's huose in Stickybeak Street one evenin. I was queitly readin Damain Thopmson's blogg and wonderin whevver UKIP was saved, and Anti Moly was watchin her favuorite programm on de telly, which is Benny Hill cos he does de Yakety-Sax music at de end where he gets chased by lotsa girls. She fuond it much more soothin dan de prevviuos programm, which was an interveiw wiv Cradinal Pell abuot de menttal probblems dat old ladies suffer - when she saw him she screemed "Woeful!" and frew her flase teeth at de telly.

We gotta knock on de door and a strangley familair cosstume lawman was standin there.

"G'day, g'day, g'day!" he said, dis bein wot Austrialan police is trained to say. "Molly Badnite alias Judy Headache, we has been gettin dozens of compliants about you bein a  public niusance. Why doesnt you go away for a while, so dat we aint forced to arrest you?"

So my dere Anti decided dat we wuold vissit Enggland, which is where Anti's ancesstors came from until dey was sent off to Bottany Bay. We made a list of all de poeple we wuold try and visit, dat Moly has said she reely admires, such as Damain Thopmson, St Cuttley, Richard Dakwins, Tina Beattie, de Duchess Camila, Tom Chivvers, and so on. We got a good range of celebritties dere, includdin de devuot and saintly like Cuttley and Thopmson, de loonies like Beattie and Dakwins, and de braney types like Chivvers and Camila.

However, Anti gave me a warnin about Enggland, as we walked down de street to de shops: "Dem Pommie bastards is all racists, Eccles. Dey aint multicultured and tollerant like we is." Kickin a passin abboriginal wot had strayed onto de pavement, she continnued: "Look at dere spellin, for instance. Dey is racist cos dey tells off Americans for spellin baddly." Pussonally, I aint never had a probblem wiv spellin, so I didnt reely understand wot she was gettin at.

Dat's a pitcher of my Anti Moly in a bad mood, some poeple says dat she ressembles Dr Jonhson slightly. Sometimes I feels like Boswell takin down de immotral words of Jonhson, cos my Anti never reely stops producin purls of wissdom, like de epiggrams above. I admits dat dey is a bit repettitive, like when she says "ROFL" half a dozen times. I don't fink Jonhson said "ROFL" except on specail occasoins. Also dere is a limmit to how many times you can prettend dat "Such is life" is a new and strikin obversation on de humman conditoin. De way of a boigrapher aint so easy.

Our freind Damain Thopmson have got a new book out soon, which Bosco and me helped him write when he visitted us in Lost Angels. Anti Moly finks we mihgt go and see him sing coppies of it, but she promissed she wont take a few locks of his hair as souvennirs, like she did wiv poor old Cuttley.

In Enggland dey got a delickacy called an Eccles cake. I hopes it is better dan de Austrialan delickacy known as de Moly cake, which is pretty repullsive, frankly. Eatin dem widgety grubbs is an acquirred taste.