The prophecies of St Damian

Being an account of how St Damian Thompson uttered many wrong prophecies, but finally managed to name the new archbishop of Liverpool.

Malcolm McMahon, on the set of Star Trek.

St Damian Thompson, the Telegraph blogs editor, was known for his visionary predictions of events in the Catholic world. Some of these he obtained from "Inside sources in the Vatican", some by reading tea-leaves (or, more commonly, the dregs of a pot of custard), and some by staring at Toby Young's head, which would light up as a crystal ball and give him mystic visions.

A crystal ball.

One of St Damian's greatest prophecies was made when Pope Benedict XVI resigned, and a new pope was to be elected. St Damian predicted that the Catholic Church would break with tradition and elect Paul Priest, the amateur archbishop of Corby, and author of numerous 100,000-word encyclicals, such as Honestly, Ma'am, you don't know the first thing about ontological paradigm shifts and The time-bomb of Vatican II-type liturgical/doctrinal/moral Vichyist revisionism. But it was not to be.

Paul Priest: good hair, fond of custard, likes the EF Mass. But not elected.

St Damian also spake forth about the reasons for Pope Benedict's resignation, averring that the Holy Father Emeritus had a rare illness, the symptoms of which included a compulsion to dress as a clown and roll on the floor laughing hysterically. Although in many churches this was accepted as normal behaviour, it had pained Pope Benedict to feel that he might end up in the same way. However, the diagnosis proved to be inaccurate.

St Damian also predicted the departure of the Nuncio, Archbishop Mennini, because of certain disagreements with the liberal "Magic Circle" of bishops in England and Wales. It was confidently predicted that Mennini would expire of polonium poisoning, or else would be found with his head bashed in by a bishop's crozier. St Damian even described a possible prime suspect, in case this eventuality came to pass.

A photofit of the prime suspect.

However, Menini survived, and - another great surprise - Vincent Nichols finally obtained his red hat, in spite of his nonchalant attitude towards "gay" masses, the ACTA rebellion, and Professor Tina Beattie.

But even a stopped clock is right twice a day, and St Damian finally obtained the scoop he had longed for. Archbishop Paddy Kelly, the curator of "Patrick's Wigwam" in Liverpool, resigned his office, and all eyes were on possible successors. Would it be Kieran Conry of Arundel and Brighton, known throughout the Catholic world for his traditionalist views and unswerving hatred of ACTA? Or might it be Michael Campbell of Lancaster, he who was so supportive of his deacons' blogging skills? Surely they would not recall Arthur Roche from Rome, a man known for skating on thin ice and closing churches?

No, in the end it was the sheriff bishop of Nottingham who got the job, and Damian Thompson who predicted the outcome, having stumbled across the bishop at his gym, trying on football shirts.

Modernist or traddy? The big choice for McMahon.

For Malcolm McMahon knew he had to face his biggest challenge yet. Would he support Liverpool Football Club with its modernist motto You'll never walk alone, or would he become a fan of its neighbours and rivals, Everton, with their traddy motto Nil satis nisi optimum? Religion was not strong in Liverpool, but football certainly was, and the entire Catholic population of the North of England anxiously awaited the archbishop-elect's decision.

Damian? I've got a tip for you. He's going to support Tranmere Rovers.

Tobit

Today we have a new recruit to the Eccles Bible Class, namely Graham Norton, a TV "celebrity", who described Catholics defending traditional marriage as "rats trapped in the corner of a barn". In order to help the poor man learn some manners, it was decided that he should come along to this month's lesson, which covers the book of Tobit. Hello, Graham!

Tobit (also called Tebbit).

Now, Graham, we don't have any rats for you in the book of Tobit, although there is a fish that attempts to devour the foot of Tobit's son, Tobias. Some good comes of this, as after overcoming the fish, Tobias is told: If thou put a little piece of its heart upon coals, the smoke thereof driveth away all kind of devils, either from man or from woman, so that they come no more to them. We'll try that one on you later, Graham!

Tobias (also called Toby).

Still, let's start at the beginning. It's a bit of a tangled story, as both T senior and T junior are referred to as Tobias. To avoid confusion, we'll call them Tebbit and Toby (or young Toby). Now they are both righteous chaps, living in exile in the Telegraph blogs Nineveh. Two problems are dealt with in this book:

1. Tebbit goes to sleep under a swallow's nest, gets hot dung in his eyes, and goes blind. I suppose the modern equivalent is watching Graham Norton on television. Only joking, Graham!

2. In faraway Rages, a city of the Medes, a lady called Sara has got problems with demons. Indeed, her seven husbands have been killed by Asmodeus "at their first going in unto her". Don't snigger at the back, there, Fry.

Asmodeus, the demon of lust (from his Facebook page).

So off goes Toby ("On your bike!" says his father, in some translations), and he meets the fish. Fortunately, he is under the protection of the angel Raphael, which means that he is going to win through in the end. He marries Sara, his kinswoman, and drives away the demon by burning the fish's liver in his bedroom. Of course, the bedroom smells of burnt fish for a long time afterwards, but this is a small price to pay for married bliss. Raphael binds the devil, and we hear no more of him. Do spare a thought for Raguel, Sarah's father, who digs a grave for Toby only to find that it isn't needed.

Toby goes back to see Tebbit, and uses the fish's gall to cure his father's blindness. Many years later, Tebbit dies, and Toby leaves Nineveh - which is doomed, as we'll see later when we reach Jonah - to return to the land of the Medes.

Toby and the fish.

Now, this is a great book of fish recipes, but that's not really the point. One of the themes - sorry, Graham, it really isn't your day - is marriage. And when the third night is past, thou shalt take the virgin with the fear of the Lord, moved rather for love of children than for lust, ... that sort of thing. Chapter 4, old Tebbit's advice to young Toby, is also hot on charity, wisdom, avoiding pride, praying, voting Conservative, etc.

Ah, Dawkins, I see your hand is up. I think I know what you're going to say: "Fish gall doesn't cure blindness, there are no such things as demons, or angels. Giving alms isn't going to benefit you personally. There's nothing wrong with a bit of lust." Shall we make it easy for you, as you're a beginner? Look at some of the instructive moral teaching, don't worry too much about the supernatural elements for now - I know they give you a headache - and leave it at that. Oh, and here's your guardian angel to escort you home.

John Cornwell? Doesn't he write rubbish books about popes called Pius?