How a pope should give out medals

This is the latest instalment in our self-help guide "How to be a good pope", designed to help those of our readers who may suddenly find themselves catapulted into the Chair of St Peter.

Now, as Pope you have lots of gongs that you can hand out to your friends. For example, the Badge for Amoris Laetitia Learning and Study (BALLS) is for those who unquestioningly agree with everything Amoris Laetitia says, showing aggression when anyone asks them to explain something.

Likewise, the St Ignatius Medal for Profoundly Lecherous Explanations (SIMPLE) is for Jesuits who suggest that naughtiness - especially between members of the same sex - is all right really; while the Francis Order of Logic (FOOL) goes to those who maintain, in the face of all opposition, that 2+2=5.

"Look! The Pope loves me!"

There are also some older awards that your more rigid predecessors instituted. For example the Pontifical Equestrian Order of St. Gregory the Great. These are for giving out in a "goodie-bag" to any visiting dignitaries who come to see you, together with a chocolate model of Martin Luther, a copy of Amoris Laetitia, and a comical red nose.

Now, as Pope you are a very busy man, with lots of other duties to perform. Obviously, you've managed to save some time by cutting down the praying and worshipping, but you still have to keep your "frequent flier" platinum status, and catch up on your unanswered correspondence - some cardinals have been waiting for answers from you for over a year.

So you delegate the award of the goodie-bag to one of your lackeys, who probably didn't bother to check the credentials of the people who received them. And here's the problem.

"The Pope loves me too!"

Among the lucky recipients of your latest batch of medals are five euthanasiacs, four torturers, three war criminals, two serial killers, and an abortionist in a pear tree. Well, that's fairly normal, if you will insist on giving awards to politicians. But it's embarrassing.

Your critics are going to say, "The Pope should withdraw the honour. The buck stops here. We don't think he's very pro-life anyway. Remember Emma Bananas?"

Your fans are going to say, "Of course he knew nothing about it, and will never find out, as he doesn't read the paper, and anyway he's far too busy partying in Chile right now, and have you noticed that it's always the same people who criticise the Pope? The rigid ones who believe in Christian doctrine! Didn't you read America's latest survey in which 99% of women who never go to church said he was a living saint? Now get lost, I've got to practise the piano."

Playing the piano versus populum, as recommended by Vatican II.

And you? What will you do? Why, nothing of course. You're in Chile, where they don't have the internet, or newspapers, or telephones. And by the time you get back there will be some new scandal to amuse people. Well done!

Lily the Pink - some new verses

First, to appreciate this post, you need to be familiar with the classic song "Lily the pink". We particularly appreciate this verse for its sensitive handling of transgender issues:

Jennifer Eccles
Had terrible freckles,
And the boys all called her names,
But she changed with 
Medicinal compound:
Now he joins in all the games.

Pioneers of transgender awareness.

Now, here are four new verses.

Murphy-O'Connor
Thought he was a goner
When Austen said he'd misbehaved:
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now he hopes he may be saved.

"I'm playing all the right notes, but not necessarily in the right order!"

Professor Dawkins
Could not stop his squawkings,
Though they found his views were junk:
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now he's training as a monk.

Professor Dawkins becomes a Trappist.

Damian Thompson
Had mischievous romps on
His blog at the Telegraph:
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now he's gone, and makes folk laugh.

Thompson and Farage get ideas from the Eccles blog.

Cardinal Kasper
Made everyone gasp: "A
Man like this destroys the Church!"
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now they've left him in the lurch.

"Can I come indoors if I behave myself?"

Pope canonizes Laurel and Hardy

Although all eyes are on Rome this weekend for the canonization of Popes John XXIII and John-Paul II, we have learned that Pope Francis has just recognized another pair of saints by telephone.

"It says 'If you wish to change Catholic teaching, press 1...'"

Apparently a lady in Argentina wrote to the pope, saying how much she admired Laurel and Hardy, and he telephoned her to tell her that from now on they were saints - St Stanley and St Oliver.

The miracle of the raising of the piano.

Although it is unusual for popes to make infallible statements by telephone, "instant canonizations" are not without precedent - Our Lord Himself chose twelve disciples for fast-track canonization, although in the end only eleven of them passed the course.

St Stan and St Ollie are among the more amusing people to have been canonized, although it is generally accepted that they may hold a second-rate status among saints. There are precedents for this.

I'm St James the Less. And yes, this does give me an inferiority complex.

It is hoped that this new announcement will not be a distraction from the canonizations of the two popes, which is expected to be a much more spectacular event, with liturgical dancing, Pinocchio puppets, and a mad woman from the Tablet rushing in to say "STOP!" This will be followed by a state banquet for the 5,000 celebrity guests, consisting of loaves and fishes. Pope Francis himself is said to be worried by the expenses, saying "Couldn't I have done all this by telephone?"

Well, here's another nice Mass you've gotten me into!