The Pope's next ten tips for a happy life

Following on from Pope Francis's Desiderata, or Ten Tips to Bring Joy into one's Life, of which a more detailed version can be found here, we are able to reveal the next ten tips, which didn't quite make the cut.

A happy pope.

11. Buy yourself a white suit. It makes you look smart, and is not as gaudy as some of those red clothes your friends tend to wear. At all costs avoid hats emblazoned with rainbow stripes, pictures of Pinocchio, or advertising slogans.

12. Watch lots of football (soccer). Of course this won't always bring happiness, as your team may occasionally lose the World Cup final to a bunch of stupid Germans. However, remember Acts 7:49: Heaven is my throne, and earth is my football. Not footstool - whoever heard of a round footstool?

13. Don't give interviews to journalists. I did, but I think I got away with it. But it's risky, as they make things up, and misunderstand things; generally, they don't report what you said, or what you think you said, or even what you think you meant to say, let alone what you think you wished you'd thought you meant to say.

An ace reporter, looking suspiciously like Dr William Oddie, gets a scoop.

14. Eat healthily. Drop into the canteen for pasta and fish occasionally! Don't sit alone in your palace eating yet another of Cardinal Dolan's suet puddings with extra lard.

15. Ride on buses. You may be tempted to take your private helicopter or your own "mobile" just to go downtown for a bag of sugar, but trust me, the bus is perfectly comfortable, and you won't have parking problems.

16. Listen to Beethoven. We like Beethoven. I tried Madonna on the recommendation of my friend Cormac, but she turns out not be as religious as I was led to believe. My friend Benedict prefers Mozart, which is also good.

Madonna and Lourdes (?!)

17. Release a dove from your window every so often. It's amazing how peaceful it makes you feel. Throwing hedgehogs out of the window at passers-by, as my friend Hans Küng recommends, really doesn't have the same effect.

18. Learn to dance the tango. It keeps you physically fit, and is a great way to praise You-Know-Who. It can be done at any time, even during Mass.

19. Make friends with the despised and the rejected. I was really thinking of Chris Patten here, but there are plenty of other failed politicians around who might be in need of a job, if you find something for them to do. Cleaning out the stables, that sort of thing.

The despised and rejected.

20. Chill out! Relax! Be happy!

Anonymous blogging

Some readers have questioned whether my name is really Eccles, and whether my brother is really called Bosco, or my great-aunt called Moly. Of course all this is perfectly true - why would I want to deceive you? However, I have been accused of cowardice for (allegedly) blogging and tweeting anonymously, especially as some of my posts have been misinterpreted as attacks on the vain, the proud, the self-important and the stupid - which are protected but scarcely endangered species.

Two anonymous bloggers discuss hermeneutics.

Still there is a long tradition of strivers for justice, honesty, truth, beauty, world peace, a sound digestion, good weather, ... where was I? Oh yes, a long tradition of doing such things anonymously. Sometimes it is enough to put on a pair of glasses and call yourself Clark Kent to become impenetrably disguised as a journalist. At the Catholic Herald they once tried something similar...

Mild-mannered Dr William Oddie, Damian Thompson and Ed West under cover.

What happens if you're not anonymous? Well, if you're a pro-life GP, be very afraid. Farewell to the Hippocratic oath, hello to Abortion. Your first words to a pregnant mother should be "Oh dear, I am so sorry. Shall I arrange a termination?" and not "Congratulations, you must be very pleased!" Be warned - we're coming for you, and your family, and your dog, and your cat, and your hamster, and... anyway, don't you dare fight abortion!

The Scarlet Pimpernel - another blogger with a secret identity.

Or you might be a professor in a politically-correct university (aren't they all?), who dares to oppose the Equality and Diversity party line - perhaps you think that, hey, homosexual sex is a bad thing...? Or that marriage is something to do with a man and a woman? Or that Islam is actually a false religion? Well, if you want to keep your job, or at least to avoid being mobbed by students with too much time on their hands, you'd better not say so!

The Lone Ranger, with patent Zuhlsdorf^TM heretic-smiter.

It was always thus. Saul of Tarsus, originally a big shot in the looking-after-coats-during-stonings business (and general smiting of Christians) was forced to blog under the pseudonym of Paul, especially when putting forward controversial notions about faith, hope, and love, and the greatest of them being love (or charity, if you prefer). He was still harassed by people who thought that the three virtues were diversity, political correctness and being green -- and the greatest of these is being green.

St Paul, arrested for not being green.

So be nice to our anonymous bloggers, and remember that some of the greatest people in history traded under a variety of aliases (or sockpuppets). One thinks of Our Lord, who managed to have numerous Oxbridge colleges named after Him, simply by using the aliases Christ, Corpus Christi, Emmanuel, Jesus, Trinity, ... and, if you believe Dan Brown, His wife's name Magdalen(e), too.

Brasenose (formerly Brazen Nose), not believed to be one of the names of God.

Yoof at the Catholic Herald

Meanwhile, the younger generation are firmly in command at the Catholic Herald with the appointment of 23-year-old Ed West as Deputy Editor.

Ed West.

Ed is author of The Diversity Illusion - why don't they all go home? which takes a critical look at immigration.

With his departure, the Telegraph blogs are looking somewhat diminished, but at least the staff were out in force to wave goodbye to the man they call "Mr Misery."

Thompson, Chivers, Hannan et al. say farewell.

An even younger recruit to the Catholic Herald is wunderkind Megan Hodder, aged 13 and only 4'6" tall. With her brilliant article, How those idiot atheists made me a Catholic, she has burst onto the scene as the only person in Year 8 to have read Aristotle, Aquinas, Dawkins and Little Women.

Madeleine Teahan, Mary O'Regan, Megan Hodder and 2 other Catholic Herald writers whose names begin with M.

Said veteran Catholic Herald journalist "Wild Bill" Oddie (age 83), "How can we old-timers hope to compete with such brilliant young people?"

New Telegraph bloggers

As Telegraph blogs editor, Damian Thompson has not been idle this summer, and he has recruited an all-star line-up of new bloggers for the autumn season.

---

Dr William Oddie, a leading Catholic writer and broadcaster

Nobody could have been more surprised than I to receive a letter from Damian Thompson, explaining that the Telegraph urgently needed more Catholic bloggers of distinction. For a moment I wondered whether Damian's secretary had confused me with someone else, but when I phoned the Telegraph, explaining that I was a Goodie, Damian merely replied "Of course you are, Dr Oddie, I have never doubted it."

I suggested that my first post would be about cardinals, and this went down very well.

At present there are but two cardinals on the British mainland, and, being both male, they do not constitute a breeding pair. However, these birds are never entirely extinct on our shores, and new sightings appear regularly. The birds migrate regularly to Rome, where they flutter around rather purposelessly...

---

John Prescott, former Cunard waiter and Deputy Prime Minister

In my inorgyral blog post for the Telegraph I have been asked to take on the mental of Peter Mullet and Tom Shivers, and so I will be undressing the lamentable decline in the qualify of English that we see nowadays.

When I was Debity Prime Monster, I always insisted that my staff send me reports in plane English. "Keep it simple!" I said. "We ain't all been to poncey schools where they learn about active conjugations. I've 'ad to learn about them from my secretary!"

On one occasion, I overheard a member of staff saying about me: "Mr Prescott's an 'ideous orang-utan." Well, I wasn't standing for that. I got the whole office reciting in unicorn together: "Mr Prescott's a hideous orang-utan." That taught them!

---

Louise Mensch, chick lit novelist and Catholic figurehead

As Damian Thompson removed his elegant polyester shirt, young sexy Louise gasped in admiration at his rippling muscles, and knew that, whatever he asked her to do, she would have to agree. "Louise," he said, in tones that brooked no denial, "we at the Telegraph have certain... needs."

"Oh yes, yes, Damian," she said. "What do my constituents in Corby matter, when the blood-crazed ferret makes his demands on me?"

"I'm glad you see it that way," said Damian in the husky, virile tones that always sent a shiver down Louise's beautiful spine - a spine which had won the Conservative Spine of the Year award on three separate occasions. "I want you to write us a blog about your experiences in New York."

"Oh my God, Damian!" exclaimed Louise. "Yes, yes, yes!"

---

Julian Assange, security adviser to the Ecuadorian government

All users of the Internet need to be made aware of the advantages of cyber-security. My new main employer, President Correa, was shocked when I told him that there is a rogue web-site called Juiquilics, which is carrying details of his secret plans to flood neighbouring Colombia with poisoned llama-meat, in a cunning attempt to destroy its economy.

My first tip to internet users is Change your password. It was a great embarrassment to the CIA when someone - I won't say who - guessed that the password used for the site storing their most secret documents was "CIA."

Next week I hope to blog about my experiences of Swedish nightlife, and how to make your mark with those busty Swedish girls.

---

Cormac Murphy-O'Connor, Archbishop Emeritus

I'm very glad to help out my old friend Damian by blogging on some of my memories, drawn from a long life as a priest. I thought I would start with my experiences as a student at the Venerable English College in Rome in the 1950s. We were a wild bunch indeed, stealing cardinals' red hats on Boat-race Night, then putting drawing pins on Pope Pius XII's Cathedra. And to think that two of us became cardinals, and four others became bishops!

I expect the seminarian who provided the whoopee cushion to make a full confession later.

I remember we invented something called the cardinal martini, a very potent drink which we offered to Cardinal Griffin, when he came to Rome to ask us why we we'd been skipping all the Latin classes! After 3 of those, old Bernie Griffin was going "Hic haec hoc," like the rest of us!

Dat's enuff bloggs

Hands off Pippa!
By Cristina Noode

Leave Her Royal Hotness alone! She's just a 28-year-old girl doing what all teenagers do at her age - going to wild parties in Paris, getting drunk, and shooting the odd gendarme! Only confirmed anti-monarchists could possibly see anything wrong with that! Which amongst us has not been a little wild in their younger days?

In my days editing the Catholic Herald it was normal to see Damian "six gun" Thompson striding in after a hard night's drinking and poker with "Wild Bill" Oddie. One day he explained that they had just shot a policeman, having mistaken him for "Doc" Chartres, and they were terrified that the lawman might have been a Catholic.  We glamorous young girls all wanted to be Damian's "moll" and shoot up the Magic Circle bishops with him, but he rejected all our advances. Later, we all became boringly respectable housewives of course.

So leave Pippa alone! She may be a wild teenager now, but one day she may be a respected Catholic blogger for the Telegraph!

Excusez-moi, officer, je suis en retard pour la Messe à Notre Dame.

---

Cameron the Eurosceptic
By Daniel Nannah

The time has come for UKIP supporters to lay down their arms and admit that David Cameron's Conservatives are the only party likely to take us out of the EU within the next five years.

Already Dave is making rebellious rumblings against EU tyranny. Indeed this week he decided to go head-to-head with the Prime Minister of mighty Varicella. By threatening to oppose an EU Directive on subsidies for hamster-farmers, Dave has shown that he is not afraid to hit the Varicellan hamster-fur industry where it hurts.

Our Eurosceptic policies are being noticed. Whenever I stand up in the European parliament and suggest that we expel all foreigners from the EU, I am listened to avidly. Indeed, most of the foreigners take my advice and leave the chamber immediately. Last week, however, my speech met with unexpected results, for a man came into the chamber, carrying a bag of tools. Somehow I must have received a blow on the head, for when I woke up I was sitting on a pile of rotten cabbage in the Brussels Municipal Dump, but - and this is the important thing - I was still giving my controversial speech on Van Rompuy - why does he smell like a dead weasel? 

Dave is in town, and he's in a mean mood. So Brussels, beware!

David Cameron, getting to grips with Johnny Foreigner.

---

Parishioners! Arentchasickofem?
By Peter Numell

In my days as a Parish Priest in the Yorkshire village of Ebor-Gum, the one thing I dreaded was my parishioners. Nowadays, as Anglican Chaplain to the Guild of Usurers, Money-lenders and Blackmailers, I mix with a different class of person, and they are not usually interested in religious matters. But even in my days as Honorary Canon to the White Slave Industry life was peaceful compared with the horrors that awaited me in Yorkshire.

In Ebor-Gum I had proposed some simple changes in our form of Sunday worship - I just wanted it to start each week with a ceremonial burning of homosexuals on the village green - and the parishioners treated me as if I had wanted to do something outrageous, such as introducing the happy-clappy doggerel of Graham Kendrick. Well, I withdrew my plans in the face of their implacable opposition, and reduced the burnings to an occasional event in my own back garden.

Then again, I thought it would be helpful if we were to show our ecumenical side by storming the local mosque, decapitating the Imam, and putting his head on a pole with a label "LOSER". You wouldn't believe the fuss my plan caused. Now I display Father Abdallah's head in a glass case in my sitting-room, where it is much admired by visitors, but we Christians should not be forced to hide our lights under bushels in this way.

Shall we go down to the pub, vicar?