The Dean of Norwich defends herself

The (Anglican) Dean of Norwich, her Holiness the Very Reverend, Sacred and Venerable Minerva Mouse, has defended herself against criticism that installing a helter-skelter into Norwich cathedral was irreverent, blasphemous, bonkers, and Satanic (you choose).

Dean Mouse stands outside her magnificent cathedral.

"In a very real sense - and I know that Bishop Duck agrees with me - spiralling downhill very quickly is a metaphor for the modern Anglican church. But let us not forget the immortal words of Mother Julian of Norwich, author of Rotations of Divine Love, even if she was a Catholic, and therefore a bit too God-obsessed:

He showed me a great tower, ringed with a steep helix, lying in the nave of a cathedral, as it seemed. I looked upon it with the eye of my understanding, and thought, 'What may this be?' And it was answered generally thus, 'It is all that Man will worship in the future.' I marvelled how it might last, for I thought it might suddenly have fallen to nothingness. And I was answered in my understanding: 'It lasts and ever shall, for God loves it.'

All shall be well, and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be well. WHEEEEEEE!!!"

Bishop Duck gives the Blessing.

A survey of members of the Church of England produced the following results:

1. Only 30% believed in God (falling to 5% when it came to the clergy).

2. Only 20% realised that Churches were the House of God, rather than simply funfairs with better architecture.

3. When asked who was the Son of God, only 10% said Jesus. Other responses included Mohammed, Richard Dawkins, and Stephen Fry.

Norwich cathedral (the ancient one) has long been appreciated as a place for religion-lite fun, as the following picture of a dignified prelate shows.

Bishop of Norwich jumps on a tray of custard (yes, really).

Meanwhile, Dean Mouse has put up a small shed near the old cathedral in which Christian worship can take place. "There will only be room for two or three people at a time, but that should easily be enough!" she explained.

However, as one commentator put it: "I came a long way to see this church, and there wasn't even a coconut shy or dodgem cars! How do they think they will attract pilgrims?"

The new Norwich cathedral.

My night of horror with Damian Thompson

By Milo Yourehopeoulos.

I'll never forgive my parents for naming me after a chocolate drink.

I owe a lot to Damian Thompson. Without him I would just be a talentless nobody who wears silly glasses and stands alone in the corner at parties. As it is, I am an internationally-renowned blogger with a keen following amongst the illiterate Tuttifrutti tribe of the Amazon jungle.

But there is a sinister side to Damian, as I discovered the night he invited me to stay at his castle in Notting Hill. Things began badly when he insisted on plying me with cupcakes and custard, no doubt in a vain hope that this would cause me lose control. He doesn't drink alcohol, and I didn't find that his home-made non-alcoholic hemlock wine "Château Blood-crazed Ferret" was much of a substitute.

Damian spends many weekends at the National Custard Museum.

"I've got a DVD called The Life of Brian," said Damian. "It's the in-depth story of Haversack Brian, the 103-year-old composer who wrote three symphonies before breakfast every morning. My friend Stephen Hough has arranged his longest symphony, the eight-hour Vandal Symphony, for playing on the piano with one finger."

We put on the DVD, but it turned out to be a religious film about some prophet called Brian, so Damian angrily ripped it from the DVD player and threw it at Cormac the cat. Resisting my host's increasingly aggressive demands that we should stay up all night singing Bach cantatas together, I retired to the spare bedroom.

"Dear Mr Cleese, I wish to complain..."

There were approximately 500 copies of Damian's magnum opus, "The Fix" in the spare room, so I picked one up and soon found myself sleeping peacefully. However, at around 3 a.m. I was woken by a knock on the door.

"Moli, I mean Milo," said Damian in a whisper. "Would you like to come and listen to my collection of Gladys Mills CDs?" I knew that my host had been a fan of Mrs Mills from an early age, and that he sometimes sobbed himself to sleep listening to her masterpieces. But at 3 a.m. this was really too much.

A young Jorge Bergoglio receives a cake from Gladys Mills, watched by Damian Thompson.

"Go away, Damian," I groaned. "I want to sleep!"

"Just one CD, Milo," pleaded Dr Thompson, and then, when it was clear that I wasn't going to take part in his disgusting rituals, "all right, you'll see. I'll ruin you. You'll never work again! You'll become a second Austen Ivereigh!"

So as you see, that perpetually-smiling face conceals the heart of a fiend.

I'm sorry to have to put all this on record, but people have started to forget who I am, and it's important for gay Catholics with no talent to stay in the news. Ask Fr James Martin.

What was the quality of the service you received?

Thank you for attending divine worship this weekend. Please take the time to fill in the following ecumenical questionnaire, as we are constantly trying to improve the quality of our services.

1. What was the first thing you noticed on arriving at your place of worship?

a) A man high up in the tower shouting "Allahu Akbar!"
b) The jolly ringing of church bells, intermingled with the screams 
of someone who had caught his foot in the bellrope.
c) Hooting and swearing from drivers trying to park their cars.
d) A solemn silence.
e) An axe flying past your head and a cry of "Odin is great!"

"Welcome to our humble service of worship. I'm the vicar."

2. Did you have difficult finding a seat?

a) No, as there were only three people present.
b) Yes, but I kicked out old Granny Bannister, and took her place.
c) We do not sit in our church, but meditate while standing on our 
heads.
d) No, but a bouncer removed me, hissing "Get out of the bishop's 
cathedra!"
e) No, because I was part of the clown procession, and had a reserved 
bath of custard to lie in.

The liturgical significance of custard has been under-estimated.

3. Which (if any) of the following sacred beings were mentioned during the sermon?

a) Pope Francis.
b) Fr James Martin SJ.
c) Lord Oates, the Quaker Maximus.
d) The crocodile god.
e) Rowan Williams.
f) Donald Trump.
g) The Duchess of Cambridge.

"I take as my text the 2000th tweet of St James to the Twitteratians"

4. The sign of peace. What do you do?

a) We don't have it, although we are allowed to smile at our neighbours
if we don't get too excited.
b) As little as possible, but usually one or two people catch me.
c) I embrace as many as I can, and later go round to the houses of 
all the people I missed.
d) I grab my neighbour's hand firmly, and squeeze until he cries 
for mercy.
e) In our church we smoke a pipe of peace.

No, I don't know, either.

5. What music was there?

a) Gregorian chant.
b) Sankey's Sacred Songs and Solos ("Throw out the lifeline 
across the dark wave; There is a brother whom someone should save").
c) 100 Hymns for Hippies.
d) Something old, tuneful, and spiritually nourishing.
e) The Kevin Mayhew book of Bad Hymns.

"The organist is sick, but Mr Banerjee has agreed to play 'Shine, Jesus, Shine' on the nose-flute instead."

6. What was on offer after the service?

(a) Coffee and Eccles cakes in the church hall.
(b) Gin, toiler cleaner and hair-restorer, chez Anti Moly.
(c) Cold tap water (we are tops for asceticism).
(d) The priest's own-brand spinach wine.
(e) As much liturgical custard as we could drink.

"More gin, vicar?"

Thank you for completing our questionnaire, and if you have any further comments please keep them to yourself.

Rude words in church

This is loosely based on a real incident.

Dear Fr Arthur,

Being a man of advanced years (36), I sometimes drop off in your sermons. To my horror, I awoke at one moment and distinctly heard you say the word "knickers". To the best of my knowledge I have never heard such bad language in a church service before. If you are referring to something in the Bishop's Letter, then a little respect is needed, don't you think?

Fr Arthur uses a rude word.

Eccles, you moron,

My sermon was about refugees, and I was encouraging my parishioners to donate much-needed gifts to the "jungle" at Fraseur St Gilles, near Dunkirk. These would include any spare pullovers, knickers, tins of beans, Eccles cakes, pet hamsters, rowing-boats, guns, and copies of Enid Blyton's The Famous Five discover Transgenderism that you may have. But no sausages.

May I remind you that these days social awareness is more important than religion, and so we don't talk about God in our homilies.

A mysterious photo in the Catholic Herald.

Dear Luke Coppen, Editor of the Catholic Herald,

What exactly is a wee box? Is it what we used to call a toilet cubicle? And why should the Herald print a photo of Mrs Sturgeon inaugurating some?

No reply was received.

Walking on custard.

Dear Graham James, Anglican Bishop of Norwich,

Could you explain this photo of you jumping up and down on a tray of custard? Is it an attempt to ingratiate yourself with the great Damian Thompson, custard correspondent of the Spectator? Or is it merely a new liturgical dance?

Prayer 3: How to do intercessions

I'll hand over to Tony now, as he's going to lead us in our intercessions.

Thanks, Father Phil. Please kneel, stand, sit, or lie down - whichever position you find most comfortable - while I lead us through today's prayers.

First we pray for the Church throughout the world, and in our cycle of prayer today we think particularly of the Kingdom of Bhutan, and its king, Jigme Khesar Namgyel Wangchuck. Although his people are Buddhist, we know that, like us, he is only seeking the Truth, and who are we to say that we know better?

Thanks for the name-check, Tony!

We pray for Pope Francis, Pope Benedict, Archbishop Welby, the Dalai Lama, the Chief Rabbi, the Archmuslim of Canterbury, the Archdruid of Husborne Crawley, and the Supreme Freemason. May they continue to do spiritual things.

Nearer at home, it is the day that we pray for the Diocese of Scunthorpe, and particularly for Bishop Eric Blast-Furnace, that the police will soon drop all charges against him. May he be a worthy pastor of his sheep, and may the Lord help him to leave Mrs Slag alone. Oh sorry, I didn't mean to read that bit out.

Moving on, our cycle of prayer moves us to think of our brothers and sisters in the parish of Little Dreadville, their priest, Fr Nasty, and his pet hamster, Radcliffe, who is unwell. May little Radcliffe soon be turning happily in his wheel, and bring joy to all who behold him. Then, nearer to home, we remember the people living in Slaughterhouse Crescent, especially Mrs O'Ghastly, who is suffering from acute halitosis. May the Lord breathe on her, and may she breathe back without knocking Him over.

St Eormenhild (Ermenilda) of Ely.

Today is of course St Ermenilda of Ely's day, and we join her in our intercessions. Although she does not appear to be the patron saint of anything in particular, simply mentioning Ermenilda of Ely reminds us to pray for all producers and wearers of ermine, all people who risk their lives for us in order to catch or eat eels, and anyone whose name rhymes with Ermenilda. We may wish to say a prayer for all the Hildas and Matildas that we know. In fact we shall be singing "Waltzing Matilda" as our Communion Hymn later.

A producer and wearer of ermine.

We pray for the Royal Family, in particular for Lady Louise Windsor, because we haven't "done" her for several months, and for all Members of Parliament. In our cycle of prayer we think particularly of Mr Nicholas Clegg, and we try not to laugh. O Lord, you have probably read in your Spectator a particularly nasty piece by Damian Thompson, attacking the conductors Dudamel, Gergiev and Rattle for (if you'll excuse me, Lord) political butt-kissing. Soften the heart of Dr Thompson we pray, that from now on all his words may be words of kindness and praise, that they may flow smoothly as the custard floweth in Lebanon.

The Lord recommendeth this for thy health.

We pray for all who try to communicate the word of the Lord, whether they be priests, journalists or humble bloggers. Today we especially remember Brother Bosco of the totally unread "Why all Catholics are damned" blog.

Now we pray for the sick, especially at this time for people suffering from spots in embarrassing places, addictions to toilet-cleaning products, or delusions that they are a teapot. May their spots be healed, their beverage requirements become less potent, and their kettles whistle as they boil in the Lord's Name.

The sick.

Finally, we commemorate the departed, especially our own great-great-aunts, whether known to us or not. We also remember any whose anniversaries fall at this time, especially King Béla II of Hungary, Richard Wagner, and Mr Ronald Pickering of the BBC. In the words of Mr Pickering, "Away you go!"

Finally a moment for silent prayer, in which we bring our own needs to the Lord. No matter how complex our problems, and difficult our situation, He is ready to listen to us. One. Two. Three. That's enough silent prayer.

Lord in Your Mercy, grant these our prayers, and help us to have a Nice Day. Amen.

Thanks, Tony. That was great!

Welcome to Tablet blogs!

Many of us remember the Telegraph blogs, in the days when they were run by Damian Thompson, the blood-crazed ferret and expert on catholicism, Chopin, cup-cakes and custard.

Lest we forget: Damian Thompson at the National Custard Museum.

Damian persuaded the great and good (and Mary Riddell) to write for him: Norman Tebbit, James Delingpole, Stephen Hough, James MacMillan, ... Even Cormac Murphy-O'Connor took an interest (but failed to shut the whole thing down). These days, with Damian gone, there is nothing left to see: in the last ten days we have had pieces from Hannan (politics), Wedderburn (health and lifestyle), Potts (health and lifestyle), Hannan and Hannan. And that's it: Spam, Egg, Sausage, Spam and Spam. Why, you see more activity on this lovely blog!

Herman Van Rompuy shows what he thinks of Daniel Hannan.

So, over to the Tablet, where the blogs are alive and well. People who hate Catholicism need not fear - you're in good company! Look at some of the highlights from the last week!

Tony Flannery.

I refuse to be silenced. The Pope would like nothing better than to tie me to a chair and stuff a gag in my mouth. But I won't have it! I have just had a great time in the States, talking to anti-Catholic organizations, and preparing for the time when I shall march into the Vatican and demand justice. I spoke at the Call to Action conference, and gave them tips on how to avoid excommunication while still denying Catholic teaching on women priests, contraception, homosexuality, etc. I also met some Westboro Baptists, who welcomed me by holding me upside-down above the toilet bowl, saying "You may be a bit too friendly with faggots, Tone, but we are proud to recognise someone who hates Catholics almost as much as we do!" Praise indeed, and a sign that I've got Pope Benedict on the run!

"If you're in a hole, keep digging!" says Tony Flannery.

Tina Beattie.

The Pope! Arentchasickovim? He went to the EU Parliament, and what did he tell them? He hates grandmothers! Well, we can see what that means, can't we? He won't be ordaining any grandmothers in the near future, in line with the sexist, misogynist Catholic tradition that goes back all the way to, er, ... Jesus Christ! Let me tell him that in my daily life I meet many grandmothers and grandfathers, and it's the grandfathers that are the useless ones - they sit in a chair all day long, drinking beer and watching television, just as Jesus did, while the grandmothers do the shopping, the cleaning, and the washing, and they bring in the coal; then they stay up all night writing theological tracts (just like Martha). Phooey! If I were not a distinguished professor of Catholic Flourishing (memo: check exact title), I would quit and become a Pagan!

Pope Francis shows his utter contempt for a grandmother.

Una Kroll.

As a former Anglican vicar, and now a Catholic layperson, I want the Catholic Church to be more like the Anglican one: it was a big mistake when some pope decided to break away from the Anglicans in the 16th century. So I want to see Catholic women ordained bishops - never mind what the men at the top of the Church think. Also, we need to change Catholic teaching, and drop patriarchal concepts such as faith, hope and charity. We need to use more buzzwords, such as equality, cultural diversity, gender awareness, sustainability, organic unity, low-fat, gluten-free, climate change, recycled, cis and trans, and empowerment! Empowerment for me, that is, and not for some silly men in Rome! I may be 102, but it's not too late for me to take power! Mwahahahaha!

"The power of Kroll" (Dr Who, 1978). The men stare at Una in amazement.

New Year Honours

Following my nomination for a Liebster award, I have been nominated for a Sunshine Award by the wonderful Jessica Hof, chatelaine of All Along the Watchtower.

Now, I have to do one or two things, so please excuse me for being boring:

Write 10 pieces of information about yourself.

Well, luckily these don't all have to be strictly true.

1. I now live in a dog kennel in Croydon with rather dodgy Wi-Fi.

2. My favourite Christmas Carol is probably "Hark! the Herald Angels Sing".

3. Yes, I really do like eating Eccles cakes with custard.

Yummmmm...

4. I do not speak Catalan, Samoan or Swahili. I prefer Masses in Latin.

5. I have just changed the name of my blog to "Eccles is saved" as a result of certain doubts about brother Bosco.

6. Unlike Nicholas Parsons, I was not awarded an OBE. But I do have a Sunshine Award.

An OBE won't save you if you're being followed by two unsaved persons.

7. Father Zuhlsdorf is thinking of renaming his blog "Reading Francis through Eccles".

8. My Auntie Moly hasn't quite got the idea of carol services: you are supposed to sing the same as everyone else sings. No wonder they chucked her out.

Probably not a Christmas carol.

9. Paul Inwood invited us round for Christmas. "Have you got a turkey for us?" we asked.
"No, but I can write another one in the next 10 minutes or so," he replied.

10. I do not play the trombone, but I wish I could.

Scientific research.

Nominate ten fellow bloggers "who positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere."

Well, I'll avoid the well-known blogs with millions of followers, and go for the following:

Meadowsweet. Poems and paintings.

Ragazzagallese. The great Rhoslyn Thomas.

Linen on the hedgerow.. Catholicism and wit.

Mulier Fortis. Cats and Catholics.

Countercultural Father. Ben Trovato.

Men are like Wine. Traditional Catholic.

Battlements of Rubies. Catholic Midwife.

De Omnibus Dubitandum Est. Erudite.

The Catachesis of Caroline. By a star of TV and the press.

Catholic Lisa. Weird and wonderful. And the blog is too.

Brother Lapin's Pilgrimage. Catholic donkeys.

Yes, that's eleven, but I was one short last time I had to do this sort of thing.

Leave a comment on the nominees' blogs to tell them of the award.

Will do, if I can ever read those captchas. Or I'll contact them some other way, e.g. Twitter.

A particularly difficult captcha to solve.

Should we pray in public?

There's recently been a fascinating - no, not fascinating, what's the word? - ah yes, mindless debate on Twitter, over the question "Should we pray in public?"

Ignore him, he just wants attention.

Those who are a little weak on understanding wheel out Matthew 23 at this point, and start mumbling about phylacteries and Pharisees (which are two distinct things, as it happens). There is a subtle point here, athough their fuddled minds rather miss it. It is obviously wrong to feel that you are somehow better than others because you call yourself "A miserable sinner" or "On the side of the angels"; however, joining in public prayers is not quite the same thing.

We mustn't pray the Angelus - there's a painter watching!

The Angelus itself is basically a Catholic prayer (although used by some other denominations) and all to do with the angel greeting the Blessed Virgin Mary. This is generally regarded as an important event, and no decent person of any faith would mock it, or even mock a prayer that commemorates it. Of course, it is a fine Twitter tradition to mock Christianity, and if you do so, you need to use lots of swear words and insults, as otherwise people won't take you seriously.

Personally, I find this whole "praying in public" business very distasteful, don't you? When the intercessions begin in church, I generally ignore them, and just turn to the Tablet cryptic crossword puzzle instead. Hmm - Nice debt rearranged - how we hate him! (8). Any ideas, there? Anyway, I don't like people to know I'm praying, so I do it privately at home. Well, of course I don't usually bother. Life's too busy, know what I mean?

A nasty traddy cat, praying.

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To finish off, we have a guest post from Sister Wendy Beckett. This was posted as a comment on Damian Thompson's blog, and immediately deleted by the muddlerators.

Custard for David Cameron.

In this charming 21st century painting by Adams of the Telegraph school, we see an updating of the Belshazzar's Feast story, in which a ruthless dictator lets his gluttonous instincts get the better of him, shortly before his inevitable downfall. The use of custard in this context, traditionally presented in a "rainbow" tin, is an astute reference to the dictator's obsession with same-sex marriage, which was one of the causes of his downfall.

There is a message in this painting for all of us, I think: namely, that custard, although one of the staple foods of life, can be misused and misapplied. St Paul warns us that someone who has turned to the dark side will feed on custard to his own destruction. Incidentally, the painting is one of a pair, as Adams later went on to depict the cupcakes of Clegg.

As we gaze on this beautiful painting, shall we meditate on the fate of Cameron, and say a prayer, possibly one involving custard? I think so.

Eccles and his sockpuppets

Brilliant detective work has at least revealed that Brother Eccles is a master of sockpuppetry. In addition to running 500 Twitter accounts - his ambition is to run the whole of Twitter single-handed - he also manages to write 200 different blogs on (mostly) religious subjects.

A Vatican-approved guide to puppetry.

Here are examples of some of the blogs that Eccles maintains. You will notice that they all have exactly the same style.

The Eccles Catholic donkey blog.

Today I took Vincent, the most troublesome of my 24 donkeys, on a walk to the Bar Moli in Finestrat, where we shared a bottle of gin to celebrate the feast of St Jude. Unfortunately, he was unable to walk home again, so I had to carry him back. Then when we got home, he logged onto Twitter and started insulting random people. I should never have given him his own computer.

The Eccles paranoid Chaplain blog.

What people don't realise is that deacons are priests. So priests should stop feeling superior to us. You wouldn't let me into your Superior Clergy Club, would you? Even though I made myself a biretta. What's more I don't want to hear anything from mothers who stay at home with babies. I'm a mother too, you know. Well, a father. And I stay at home all weekend. Except when I go out. I hate you all, especially the puppetmaster Eccles.

St Joan Blogger.

Hello, everyone, this is Auntie Joan, the writer, biographer, historian, poet, humourist, Olympic cyclist, brain surgeon and Renaissance woman. Auntie has had a very exciting week, as Pope Francis phoned her up to ask if she had any advice to give him on how to write encyclicals. Auntie told him, "Write everything in the third person, as it produces a vibrant prose style." Auntie is taking part in a discussion with Pope Francis on Vatican Radio soon, and she will make every effort to prevent the Holy Father from saying anything embarrassing - that should be easy, because he probably won't be able to get a word in edgeways!

The Eccles "Holy Smoke" blog.

Maria João Pires - found herself playing Mozart's 4th horn concerto.

Take a look at this ancient video that someone sent me. It shows the pianist Maria João Pires in a terrible dilemma. She was expecting to play a Mozart Piano Concerto with the Amsterdam Concertgebouw, but when the orchestra started, she found that they were playing his 4th Horn Concerto. Resourceful to the last, she grabbed a French horn from a member of the orchestra, and gallantly blew her way through the concerto. Said the orchestra member, a Mr Flanders, "I've lost that horn - I know I was using it yesterday. I've lost that horn, lost that horn, found that horn ... gorn."

The same thing happens to me sometimes. I have prepared an in-depth article on custard for the Telegraph, when the editor comes to my desk and says, "Damian! It's Catholicism this week." Being an experienced journalist, I take out my blue pencil, change all the references to custard, add something about the impending murder of the Nuncio, and - voilà! - in 5 minutes I have the piece that I was asked for.

The Protect-the-Eccles Pope blog.

The Tablet ludicrously misreports Bishop Conry's meeting with ACTA to discuss their recommendation of abortion as a human right, in an attempt to ban the Bible in all English dioceses, while Cardinal Murphy-O'Connor's refusal to attend a SHAG week in Rome sends out mixed signals to Enda Kenny, according to the BBC.

Protect-the-Eccles Comment: Phew! This one's too much for me.

The Hermit of Cottingley blog.

The autumn colloquium of the British Province of the Confraternity of Catholic Clergy was very well attended, but some delegates found that it was disruptive to hear cries of "Let me in, I'm a deacon!" outside the window, as we sang Gregorian chants in the bar at night. From now on, the Confraternity has agreed to admit deacons as well, except for ones who are obviously insane.

See? All these well-regarded blogs were really by Eccles, all along.

Eccles interviews Pope Francis

It is with great pleasure that we print an interview with Pope Francis, "The Pope whom nobody understands," in which we ask his views on a range of fundamental questions.

Eccles: Welcome, Holy Father. We are honoured to have you here today. I hope you will be frank with us, as we explore some controversial issues.

F: Well "Francis" is more usual, but I'm happy to be "Frank" if you wish.

Francis of Assisi, an inspiration to the Pope.

E: Er, excellent. Now, many people are still trying to decide, "Who exactly is Jorge Mario Bergoglio?"

F: A good question, Eccles, and we should not attempt to find an easy answer to it. Clearly, I am not Diego Maradona, even though I see the Hand of God in all things. But then nor am I Pope Benedict. I am reminded here of the motto of a countryman of mine, the Argentine poet Fray Bentos: "succulent and satisfying".

Argentine wisdom.

E: Yes, well I'm sure that commentators will wish to argue over these words for many days, to see whether they are a radical departure from orthodox Catholicism, and maybe a sop to Hans Küng. Let's try something less controversial. What is your favourite colour?

F: This is an issue with which Catholics seem to be obsessed. Green is a colour. Red is a colour. But you would not say that custard was a colour.

E: Isn't custard yellow?

F: Not if it's blue.

However, the Holy Father still left my question unanswered.

E: Let's try another question. Now, I know that infallibility doesn't work that way, but tell me, will it rain tomorrow?

F: I often think of the words of your poet Shakespeare, "The rain, it raineth every day," as well as Damian Lundy's "Rain rain, go away, come again another day." Still, unless Catholics also remember Bernadette Farrell's "The sun has got his hat on and is coming out to play!" they are not ready to face the challenges of the modern world.

E: Thank you very much, Holy Father. Do we have time for one final question?

F: No man knoweth the hour, Eccles. But I think I may give you a definite answer here. We may have time, or we may not have time, but time will continue to exist, regardless. Unless it doesn't.

E: Right. My last question is: Are you going to excommunicate those dreadful rebels at ACTA?

But this question was not to be answered. The Pope smiled enigmatically at me, and I was left to wonder whether he meant "yes" or "no" or, more probably, a definite "maybe".

A tasteless caricature of Ann Lardeur of ACTA.

The Damian Thompson photo competition

The world's leading Catholic blogger, Damian Thompson, needs to choose a new photo for his blog, one that simultaneously reflects his saintliness, "blood-crazed ferret"ness, conservatism, wit, and love of custard and cupcakes. However, he has tried three different photos in three days and is still undecided, so our readers are invited to help him select the best.

Just arrange the following Damian photos in order of preference, and win a night on the town with Damian Thompson, Johann Hari, Peter Hitchens and Cormac Murphy-O'Connor. But prepare yourself first, as Damian will ruthlessly expose any ignorance you have of the subjects of addiction, Bruckner, cupcakes, custard or Catholicism!

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1. The "saintly" look.

2. The classic "mischievous" look.

3. The "comic" look.

4. The "we've run out of cupcakes" look.

5. At the museum of custard.

6. Very distinguished, but showing his age.

7. The "stop messing about" look.

8. In rather select company.

9. Damian as a child.

10. It's Dr Thompson, and don't you forget it.