How to conduct a trial for schism

This is another in our long-running series on "How to be a good Pope", which is read regularly by Pope Francis and his likely successors, Cardinals Cupich, Roche and Fernández (surely, Sarah, Burke and Müller ?) for useful advice.

In fact, if you think YOU may be the next pope but three, it's probably a good move to keep up to date with this series.

All good friends, really!

Some time in your papacy you may find someone who disagrees violently with you - even though you are the Holy Father and infallible in everything you say. Even half-remembered chats to Scalfari (RIP) and ex-aeroplana pronouncements on long flights are infallible. As is calling homosexuals "Massimo Faggiolis" (my Italian is not great but I think this means "Big Beans", which is a well-known term of abuse).

Luckily, the Catholic Church has a remedy for dissidents, an extrajudicial criminal trial for schism.

"Extrajudicial" is an interesting word. I think it means "sentence first, verdict afterwards", as the Queen of Hearts (also infallible) says in "Alice in Wonderland". It certainly doesn't mean a nice public trial, with you and your adversary - let's call him Archbishop Vinegar, so that nobody will think I'm talking about a real person - getting into the witness box and being insulted by men in silly wigs (or whatever the equivalent of the English system is).

"Just answer the question, Mr Francis."

Vinegar's accusations are many and varied. Some of the most hurtful are that you pull the wings off butterflies and kick lovable fluffy kittens. Good grief, if a pope can't do that, then who can?

Of course you do have many real skeletons in your cupboard, some of which Vinegar has managed to find. Others are well-known to any knowledgeable Catholic - your fondness for protecting unsavoury characters such as that dreadful painter Marko the Ripper, for example. No chance of his being subject to an extrajudicial criminal trial! He knows too much...

Anyway, after Vinegar's trial, or rather, before it, comes the sentence. You have checked with your advisers, and we no longer use the rack or the iron maiden - well, except at the wildest of Cardinal Cocoa's drug orgies - and all you can really do is excommunicate him. What an anti-climax!

Archbishop Vinegar will not be expecting this either.

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Nothing to do with the above (or is it?), but the AI program Copilot kindly produced a picture of the famous Annibale Bugsbunni, to whom we all owe so much. It would be a pity not to use it here.

What's up, Holy Father?

How to be a good pope: gaslighting the faithful

This piece, like all the "good pope" articles, is designed for those who may one day find a Mafia boss in dark glasses come up to them and say "Congratulations! You're now infallible! Go out there and make them a doctrine they can't refuse!"

One very necessary skill for a pope is gaslighting, which Wiipedia defines as follow:

Gaslighting is a colloquialism for a specific type of manipulation where the manipulator is successful in having the target (a person or a group of people) question their own reality, memory or perceptions. There is often a power dynamic in gaslighting where the target is vulnerable because they are fearful of losses associated with challenging the manipulator.

Light the gaslight! We have a new pope!

We can give some useful advice here from Pope Francis, seven times voted "Best Pope since Benedict XVI" and one who knows all the tricks.

Suppose that you want to keep the faithful on their toes by causing a schism. That way they can be so busy squabbling amongst themselves that they won't have time to notice anything dodgy that's going on in the Vatican. At present you have various forms of Mass, mostly "vernacular", which means that, apart from the usual stuff, you are blessed in that once in a week Fr Radovan Karadžić comes in to offer a mass for the Bosnian Serb community. Also once a month Bishop Lang-Toal permits a traditional Latin Mass at 6 a.m. in a totally inaccessible church.

"Our TLM worshippers are definitely falling off."

So you send out a questionnaire to bishops: Complete the following in less than ten words: "I think the TLM is evil because..." First prize, a cardinal's hat.

Whatever answers you get, you feel justified in saying "Right, chaps, no more TLM unless you get a permit signed in your bishop's blood*."

*Clever, eh? The more reptilian bishops don't have much blood, so they will refuse!

Many people will be angry and blame you for attacking the traditional form of worship (but LGBT Masses and Clown Masses are still permitted, of course). This is where you turn things round and apply your Holy GasMaster skills. "The traditionalists are schismatic. They are criticising me. ME!!! Am I not Peter? Where Peter is, the Church is. If I say (as Peter did) 'I do not know this Man,' should not the faithful agree with me?" So the blame goes onto the trads and you can get your own way, feeling that you were in the right after all.

The same considerations apply to the Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate, the Sovereign Order of Malta, and many other nasty groups. You took control of them, they were angry, so you HAD to take control of them!

You noticed that Albie Boeselager had disgraced himself, so I'm sacking you.

Some gaslighting is more subtle. You accidentally put some heretical statements in your Amorous Letitia Exhortation, and four cardinals questioned them. Classical gaslighting would involve calling them heretics, blame them for causing a schism, etc. But a true Holy GasMaster will simply ignore their Dubia, and leave it to his faithful attack poodles to throw the mud. Cardinal Biretta occasionally wears impressive robes - so he is not as humble as you are! You can make life difficult for him.

A final example: you hold a disastrous Inca Synod, in which you allow the pagan idol PatchyMomma to be celebrated. Your chief attack-poodle, Austen Ivory-Tower, author of Pope Fred, the New Messiah, immediately decides that this is a representation of the Virgin Mary, and the sub-poodles spread this theory far and wide.

Winner of the "Looks nothing like the Virgin Mary" competition.

However, most people agreed that this was a pagan idol, not welcome anywhere near a Christian service, and a small group even polluted the Tiber by throwing in several PatchyMommas. Again, as Holy GasMaster you can blame them, getting your historically less-informed poodles to describe the assailants as "fascists", just as Moses was described when he destroyed the golden calf. You yourself are above such bickering, although you take great care not to be seen with any other pagan idols. So you win yet again.

How to deal with a schism

This is the latest in our series of self-help guides on "How to be a good Pope", designed for any of our readers who are one day thrust into a white robe, shoved onto the balcony in Rome, and told to SMILE.

A man in white discovers that he is the new Pope.

After a few years of poping, making up new doctrine in aeroplanes, thinking of insults for the faithful, appointing random dropouts as cardinals, and teasing everyone with new improbable synods, the thought may occur to you: IS THERE A SCHISM IN THE CHURCH?

Schisms can be identified by a variety of signs. It could be clericalism, moral problems, black cassocks and Saturno hats, for example. It can be no coincidence that the arch-baddie in the Bible is called Saturn (memo: check spelling). But mostly it's AMERICANS.

Of course, there are good non-schismatic Americans. Think of Cardinal Tobin, who tweets "Nighty-night baby" to each of his seventeen sisters, as well as any unemployed actors in the neighbourhood. Or Cupich. Or celebrity campaigner Fr James Martin LGBTSJ.

But there are others, far more sinister. Michael Voris, who used to be a friend of yours, until he discovered Catholicism and turned against you. EWTN, which, according to your great pal Dawn the Merciless, is run by Nazis. Worst of all is Cardinal Burke, who constantly does provocative things such as saying nothing to criticise you, preaching boring old Catholic doctrine, and meekly accepting all the insults that come his way. No wonder Austen Ivereigh can't stand him.

You haven't lived until Dawn has called you a Nazi.

Luckily you will be able to reunite the church with yet another synod, this one based on the wisdom of the tree-spirits of the Amazon (Hum-Mes, Czer-Ny, Mara-Di-Aga, and Spa-Da-Ro), as interpreted by your friend Rhino Marx. You will see semi-naked tribesmen, painted in gay colours, dancing before you - and those are just Fr Martin's friends from New York. Poisonous darts will fly in all directions - but that's just Ivereigh exerting his charm.

Yes, finally the Catholic Church will be united (with very few exceptions) in saying "THIS SYNOD IS A LOAD OF RUBBISH!"

Rhino Marx in his film role as Captain Wolf J. Piranha, the Amazonian Explorer.