"The tiger who came to Rome" condemned by activists

Critics have accused the classic novel "The tiger who came to Rome" by Austen Ivereigh, of sexism, encouraging violence against women, and reinforcement of liturgical inequality.

A shocking scene from the book.

The book tells the story of an exotic creature from South America which invites itself into an ordinary Catholic Church and promptly proceeds to devour everything in sight: the traditional Magisterium, the faith, and even some of the most-treasured liturgy.

Sexism is apparent in the book, since most of the tiger's friends are men (although over half are Jesuits, as a token gesture to LGBT equality). However, there are unpleasant scenes of liturgical bullying, as the Rome family discovers that all the liturgy has been chewed up by the creature.

Should our children be exposed to violent scenes like this?

The author, Austin Ivereigh, has denied that there is a darker meaning to the story, although many Catholics have found themselves unable to sleep at nights thinking of everything the tiger might do. "It's just a dumb animal," he says, "and it does what dumb animals have to do."

Baroness Warsi quits the Catholic Church

In a stunning body-blow to the Catholic Church, Sayeeda Hussein Warsi, also known as Baroness Warsi, has announced that from now on she is joining the Muslims, acknowledging the prophet Mohammed as her redeemer and saviour. This high-profile defection is so calamitous that Cardinal Nichols will probably have to resign, and even the papacy itself is threatened.

The reasons given are that Warsi could no longer stand the hatred and nastiness she encountered in the Catholic Church. However, as far as we know she has never even met Fr Thomas Rosica, so it is not clear what the problem was.

"I'm not a turncoat," insists Baroness Warsi.

The most remarkable aspect of this defection is that - as with her high-profile "defection" on the Brexit referendum - nobody had the faintest idea that she was ever on the other side.

LATE NEWS: Baroness Warsi has spoken out again, saying, "From now on I identify as a woman, and anyone who refers to me as 'Fred Warsi' is guilty of a transphobic hate crime." The mother-of-one has made it clear that she is does not wish to be regarded as a member of the racist, xenophobic, nasty, male sex. In this case, we are happy to go along with her wishes.

"Don't worry, he only attacks Catholics."

In other news, the Pope has "defected" to the Catholic Church.

Archbishop Fisichella excommunicates the Pope

Following his claim that critics of the Pope faced automatic excommunication - the sort of "merciful" statement that we expect to hear a lot of in the next few months - Archbishop Fisichella, President of the Pontifical Council for New Evangelization, today revealed that he had excommunicated Pope Francis himself. It is believed to be the first occasion since the middle ages on which an occupant of the Chair of St Peter has suffered this indignity.

"Maybe I hadn't really thought this out."

Apparently the Holy Father was overheard commenting that he had greatly sinned, in his thoughts and in his words, in what he had done and in what he had failed to do, through his fault, through his fault, through his most grievous fault. "Now, if any other Catholic had said this of the Pope," said Fisichella, "perhaps Bones or Mundabor, then they would have been in deep trouble. So it is only fair to punish Francis for this vicious attack on himself."

LATE NEWS: Pope Francis has been forgiven.

Meanwhile, in Rome...

Yesterday, the start of the Jubilee Year of Mercy, was also the Feast of the Immaculate Conception. The Vatican chose to mark this by using St Peter's Basilica as a projection screen, showing a range of Pope Francis's favourite wildlife.

St Quasimodo of Notre Dame.

However, Disney, threatened by the possibility that the Vatican could soon be showing Tom and Jerry cartoons on St Peter's, has responded with a display of scenes from the Jungle Book.

Shere Khan the tiger.

Gosh, this year of Mercy is going to be interesting.

A Christmas Carol

Martini was dead: to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. The Catholic world was stirred but not shaken to hear that Martini, the "Commie Cardinal", had gone to meet his Maker, to tell Him where he had gone wrong.

Berscrooglio knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise? Berscrooglio and Martini were partners for I don't know how many years...

Cardinal Berscrooglio, living humbly.

(Get on with it, will you, Eccles, nobody wants to read an entire novella. When do the ghosts appear?)

All right then. Berscrooglio looked out of the window at the jolly Franciscan Friars of the Immaculate, as they processed towards St Traddy's Church in order to celebrate a Mass in the Extraordinary Form. "Bah! Humbug! Self-absorbed Promethean Neo-Pelagians" he sneered, and retired to bed.

Berscrooglio lay, half-awake, until the clock had struck midnight; then the curtains were drawn aside; and then, starting up into a half-recumbent attitude, Berscrooglio found himself face to face with the unearthly visitor who drew them.

"I am the Ghost of Synod Past," exclaimed the spirit, "also known as Vatican II. Come and see what we did!" The ghost took Berscrooglio back to the 1960s, to a vast meeting of the Great and Good. And Basil Loftus. There the Wise Fathers of the Catholic Church decided to follow the Spirit of the 60s, and encourage the faithful to become hippies. Well, actually they didn't, but somehow sex, drugs and rock-and-roll crept into the spiritual life of the Church soon afterwards.

"I, the Ghost of Vatican II, took most of the credit for this," explained the spectre. Every night in the Vatican there was a rumbling sound, as of an earthquake. It was an army of dead popes, all turning in their graves.

The Ghost of Synod Past.

Moving on quickly, now: the next night Berscrooglio was visited by the Spirit of Synod Present (or at least, only just past), which manifested itself as a smiling man with a fanatical expression on his face. "I am Kasper, the Spirit of Synod Present," said the grinning spectre. "I have come to change the church's teaching on the family; that of course includes homosexuality, divorce and adultery, which are jolly good things that can only make the family stronger. O Berscrooglio! Beware Burke! Send him to Africa, we don't take any notice of people down there. Or even as far as Malta will do."

The Ghost of Synod Present.

Berscrooglio woke at dawn with a shudder, but he knew that his torments would continue. Sure enough, when midnight arrived, a third horrific phantom slowly, gravely, silently, approached him. When it came near him, Scrooge bent down upon his knee; for in the very air through which this Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery. "Am I in the presence of the Ghost of Synod Still To Come?" he asked. "Strange Spirit, who art thou? Cormac? Vin? Tiny Tim Radcliffe? Surely not Catherine Pepinster or Tina Beattie?"

"I am all these, and none," said the Spectre. "My name is Legion, for we are Many. See how the Church fades away, as we make it conform with the world!"

The ghost of Synod Still To Come.

"Horrible! Horrible!" said Berscrooglio. "After all, Uncle Benedict was right - it is time for us to become religious again! It is not too late for me to repent - away with my giant Pinocchio puppets, my copy of 'Tango-for-Dummies', even my CD of 'Paul Inwood's Greatest Bath-Time Gurgles'!" Hurriedly dressing, he made his way through the early morning mist to the livestock market, where he bought the largest tiger you ever saw, and left it at Cardinal Kasper's door as a Christmas present.

A present for Cardinal Kasper.

"God bless us, every one!" said Berscrooglio. "Even Eccles!"

New saints' names available

Although it is no longer forbidden by Canon Law, many priests are unhappy about baptising babies with names that are neither Biblical nor the names of saints: for example, Jay-Z, Harper Seven, or Heavenly Hiraani Tiger Lily.

Some say that "Tiger" was given her name because she was stripy.

Pope Francis has noted these concerns, and has agreed to do a "bulk-canonization" of dead people with particularly silly names, so that in future Catholic parents will be able to use them without embarrassment. These may include non-Catholics of a particularly saintly reputation.

St Groucho.

An addition to people with silly names, the Pope is also planning to canonize representative people called Darren, Tracey, Barack, Harrison, Rock, Whoopi and Beyoncé, which are all popular names amongst modern Catholics.

Some people would draw the line at a St Eeyore.

In a powerfully-worded editorial in the Tablet, Catherine Pepinster has argued that the Holy Father is not going far enough, and that names such as Tablet, Homophobia and Why-Won't-They-Ordain-Women should also be allowed. In a sense this is a return to the Victorian age, when names such as Chastity, Cleanliness and There-Is-No-Salvation-Outside-The-Methodist-Church were commonly given to babies. However, at present the Catholic Church is trying to avoid out-and-out silliness.

St Fudge, a bishop.

Damian Thompson exercises the right of reply

Damian Thompson, posing with a group of his most loyal readers.

I have always regarded Eccles as one of the most valued commentators on my Telegraph blog: his comments, made from the perspective of a truly saved person, have invariably been incisive and witty, and it was a great loss to all of us when he left the "Holy Smoke" community and decided to concentrate on his own blog.

Eccles - a man with very good hair.

Of course I do have one or two other brilliant commentators, with whom I engage regularly on my blog. For example, there is Eccles's Auntie Moly or "molybdenite," who may be a senile gin-soaked old thug, but who is nonetheless always ready to insult people in a way that I can only dream of emulating. Another person whose comments I appreciate is "Sister Muriel," from the church of St Daryl the Apostate down in the southwest, who tells me he is "a priest in good standing, sweetie."

But I digress. Eccles and I have shared many good times together, and I am very grateful to him for giving some publicity to the new hair salon that I have just opened. Here clients can get a truly Catholic haircut while listening to the sound of Gladys Mills playing Bach's Well-tempered Clavier.

My new hair salon

One question that I don't have the space to answer today is: "How on earth did a brilliant journalist like Cristina Odone, The John Humphrys of the Telegraph blogs as she calls herself, ever condescend to join my team?" Eccles describes her as "Damian's cook," and it is true that I rely on her for my morning cupcakes, but she is also a brilliant interrogator, one who does not hesitate to shout abuse at Chris Patten when we hear his voice on the Today Programme.

Eccles does not seem to have fully explained my relations with the "Magic Circle" of bishops which constitutes the main Vaticosceptic opposition to Pope Benedict XVI in this country. He seems to believe that I am in some ways less than totally enthusiastic about Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor. Well, this is not the case - I regard Cormac as a mentor, and as one of my closest friends.

The Cormac Singers performing Happy Birthday in my honour.

Indeed, at present I am rather worried because the Pope has sent Cormac off to Bangladesh as his special envoy - an arduous trip for an 80-year-old man, which will involve his sleeping in a snake-infested mangrove swamp and living on a diet of frogs and insects. If he survives this, the Holy Father is next proposing to send Cormac as special envoy to the South Pole in his unique Mission to the Penguins.

It's all right, Cardinal, I don't eat meat on Fridays.

Apart from that, Eccles's blog seems to be 100% accurate. As he claims, he is still staying with his aunt as my guest at Castle Thompson, and he really is one of my closest friends: I certainly would not be able to write my weekly Telegraph column without his invaluable ideas.

Thanks to Eccles, I am not unknown in Latin-speaking circles!