My hero, John Major. Knew how to deal with rebels.
Page 1 is devoted to one man, Cardinal Burke. The man simply won't go away, no matter how much I insult him. When he comes to visit me, I make him sleep in the dog kennel with Austen Ivereigh, and - such is his obsession with obedience - he obeys me. And he will keep asking me to answer his wretched dubia.
Page 2 has many names of base trads, including Sarah, Müller, etc. Memo, it is time to sack Sarah, he's getting above himself. Keeps referring to the authority of Pope Benedict, as if there hadn't been a change of government since then.
And so on, through the other pages.
Still, I do have friends as well. And they're not all Jesuits, I mean, I even have friends who don't roll up their trouser legs, bare their breasts, and do funny handshakes!
My new friend, the Bishop of Hallam (the one with the shirt on).
Ralph Heskett, the Bishop of Hallam, is my new friend, and I really think I shall make him a cardinal soon. He's very hot on ecumenism, and has been telling people how to venerate pagan deities - Buddha, Zeus, that Hindu chap with lots of arms, Stephen Fry, etc. Nobody is going to call him a rigid neo-pelagian, are they? Of course, Vincent Nichols has been doing that sort of thing for years - how do you think he got promoted?
Incidentally, my friend Jimmy Martin SJ is very keen on Buddha - the walls of his room are plastered with photos of men without shirts on: he tells me they are all pictures of Buddha, and are being used for his LGBT researches. I am not sure what he means by that, exactly, and surely he can tell the difference between Buddha and David Beckham? Strange chap.
It's doctrine, but not as we know it!
The other exciting thing I did this week was to develop some new Catholic doctrine, inspired by the Holy Spirit of Surprises. In fact the Spirit surprised me by making me misread my homily. I was supposed to say that Man was nothing without God, but I actually misspoke and said God was nothing without Man! How we laughed. Still, at least I didn't say it infallibly, although I fancy that I shall be getting another irritating phone call from Cardinal Burke... Memo: should have gone to Specsavers.
Someone calling themselves the Abbot of Hackney (although I don't know what monasteries we have there), has sent me an e-mail offering to give me advice on public appearances, the avoidance of gaffes, etc. He or she has also offered to audit the Vatican accounts. A new friend!
My new friend, the Abbot of Hackney.