Four little journalists... and then there were two

Continuing on from this post on the World Cup of Bad Catholic Journalists, we have:

1. The clash of the Jesuits.

Antonio Spadaro. Vatican muscle-man. "Theology is not #Mathematics. 2+2 in #Theology can make 5."

Fr James Martin LGBTSJ. New York actor, model, and writer. "Between the time she met the risen Christ and announced the Good News to the disciples, Mary Magdalene was the Church on Earth."

2. The clash of the trolls intellectuals.

Prof. Massimo Faggioli. Author of 57 books, all wrong. "Some cardinals, like Sarah, have a problem with pope Francis because they have a problem with Vatican II."

Dr Austen Ivereigh. Founder of "Catholic Vices" and regular scribbler. "Bishop Curry was saying 'the balm of Gilead'. I heard 'the bomb of Gilead' and assumed this was a reference to a Biblical act of terrorism."

Matches begin on September 30th and October 1st and last 5 days.

RESULTS:

Spadaro 24, Martin 76

Possibly helped by a comic audience with Pope Francis, New York's favourite LGBT campaigner easily crushed Tony the Spider.

Faggioli 39, Ivereigh 61

A clear victory for the British boy here, who spent most of the week trolling the faithful, while Beans was too busy pretending to be clever.

So we move on to the 3rd place playoff and the FINAL.

THIRD PLACE: Spadaro 34, Faggioli 66.

An easy win for Massimo, who kept up a barrage of non-stop trolling. Spadaro just couldn't be bothered.

FINAL: Ivereigh 38, Martin 62.

Both players tried hard to make an impact - Martin told us all that St John Henry Newman might have been a homosexualist, while Ivereigh showed a devotion to Pachamama, whom he mistook for the Virgin Mary. In the end Jimbo takes the trophy quite easily.

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.

Eight eminent journalists battle it out

Here is the draw for the quarter-finals of the World Cup of Bad Catholic Journalists. Eight superstars are battling it out, and updates to this post will be made as the results come in. Voting starts tomorrow.

1. Thomas Rosica v Antonio Spadaro.
42-58. The witless worm beats the plagiarist into submission.

2. Massimo Faggioli v Mark Shea.
77-23. Wisdom and ice-cream win over great charm.

3. Christopher Lamb v James Martin.
17-83. Lambkin has talent, but Jimbo is a class act.

4. Austen Ivereigh v Michael Sean Winters.
77-23. No surprises there, although MSW does his best.

Round 1 weeded out most of the non-entities, leaving mostly people of known power and influence. The carnage in Round 2 was severe: first Dawn the Merciless and the Horan of Babylon were left reeling; then feminism took a knock as Tuna Buttie and Ma Pepsi were sent back into the kitchen.

Supporters of Bobby Mickens demand a re-vote.

Comrade Dettloff was then made an unperson, and Ratty Mickens was narrowly cast aside; finally Liz Bruenig, who got into Round 2 by asking her followers to support her, joined pianist extraordinaire "Paderewski" Walford in the bin. There's enough discarded talent there to make the Amazon Synod look orthodox!

Anyway, we look forward to some interesting fights now, with lots of blood on the carpet.

Place your bets on Martin, Ivereigh, Faggioli, or an outsider!

Pope Francis is stuck in the lift (elevator)

Shortly before issuing a list of new cardinals which exceeds all previous lists in absurdity (a bunch of homosexual activists, left-wing agitators, freaks, gnomes, toads, creeps and weirdos unparalleled since the time when Cupich was given a red hat), Pope Francis was apparently stuck in a lift for 25 minutes. The stress of this experience is maybe what caused him to muddle up two lists he was keeping - one of people to excommunicate and one of people to raise to cardinal.

"Going down..."

Now, I know that I was seen in the Vatican today, optimistically pushing several lift buttons at once, but I must reassure you that I had nothing to do with Pope Francis's mishap. As in the 2013 Conclave we should thank the Holy Spirit for stepping in.

This is not the first time that the Holy Spirit has given a Pope a warning just as he was about to do something rash. Back in 2000, Pope John-Paul II was trapped in a broom cupboard for hours, just as he was about to issue a list of new cardinals containing the name of Jorge Bergoglio. However, he did not realize that this was a sign from above, and went ahead regardless.

"No, no, Holy Father, I'm sure it wasn't a sign."

Going further back, Pope John XXIII was trapped in the toilet for six days in 1959, emerging to call the 2nd Vatican Council. Was his incarceration a sign from Heaven that it would bring trouble?

The saintly pope's experiences were commemorated in a song, which later became one of Marty Haugen's greatest hits:

"Oh dear, what can the matter be?
Pope John is stuck in the lavatory.
He has been there from Monday till Saturday.
Nobody knew he was there."

Still, not all mishaps suffered by popes are necessarily warnings that they are about to do something rash. But in the case of Pope Francis, there is little doubt (and he has received too few warnings).

... and there came a mighty rushing wind...