Fawlty Dogmas

In memory of Andrew Sachs, we announce a remake of the popular comedy show Fawlty Towers with an all-star cast as follows:

An all-star cast outside the Vatican.

Jorge Bergoglio is Pope Fawlty, the proprietor of the Vatican Hotel, who spends much of his time insulting the guests.

Thomas Rosica takes the part of Sybil, who "can kill a man at 10 paces with one blow of his tongue".

Antonio Spadaro ("I'm sorry, he's from Messina") is Manuel, the hapless menial whose attempts to run the hotel in Fawlty's absence always go wrong.

The lovely James Martin SJ plays the part of Polly, the waitress.

Polly (James Martin) and Sybil (Thomas Rosica) make a phone call.

We are promised lots of slapstick humour, especially from Manuel. For example Fawlty's urgent "Manuel, if you are asked, you know nothing about the Dubia" leads to Manuel's inevitable catchphrase "I know nar-thing!"

One classic episode is "The Germans" in which a party of German heretics drops into the Vatican. "Don't mention the Gospels!" insists Fawlty. "I did, but I think I got away with it." The Germans (Kasper, Marx, etc.) are not impressed.

Cardinal Dolan, a guest star in "Gourmet Night".

Another famous story is the "Church Inspectors", in which a party of four cardinals is reported to be in Rome, asking embarrassing questions, to the consternation of Fawlty. This includes the celebrated scene with the line "I was looking at Cardinal Burke, but I was actually addressing someone else when I said 'witless worm'."

"What is wormless wit?" asks Manuel.

Most catastrophic of all is "The Builders" in which a party of cowboy theologians attempts some reconstruction work at the Vatican, and punches a hole in the Magisterium!

Eccles rating: Did I like it? Yes or No? Sorry, I don't give binary answers to abstract questions.

There's good in all of us

This blog has occasionally been criticised for taking a negative attitude towards certain people - apparently casting down the mighty from their seats and exalting the humble and meek isn't appreciated if you're one of the ones being cast down - so today we get into the Christmas spirit and praise everyone. After all, even Pope Francis is supposed to have said that all of us are redeemed, and this also applies to our pets, especially cute ones.

Mother and child, by A. Hitler.

Sister Wendy Beckett comments: This charming picture, from the "Nazi" School of art, shows a touching scene of a mother and child. See the devotion in the mother's eyes, as she regards her little baby, born to be Führer, while he looks around, perhaps wondering whether he needs more Lebensraum. Evidently, the artist was a kind and sensitive man, who knew the true meaning of love. Do look up his life history, as I am sure that we can follow his example in many ways.

Lord Voldemort.

Damian Thompson writes: Lord Voldemort, sometimes incorrectly called "Lord Tom Voldemort" by people who don't know how to refer to peers of the realm, was a talented wizard. I knew him well in his childhood in Reading, when he was simply Tom Marvolo Riddle; he attended the same primary school as I did, before winning a scholarship to Hogwarts, and was a very clever boy indeed, coming second in the class (to me). Although a devout Catholic, he was strongly influenced by the Spirit of Vatican II, and this may have contributed to the bad press he received in later years. I blame Cormac Murphy-O'Connor.

Basil Fawlty attempts to mend a broken-down car.

Andrew Sachs explains: Basil Fawlty has received a lot of bad press, from those who see him as a bad-tempered bully. However, we must wonder whether with such a personality he would have been better suited to another occupation, for example, as a deacon in the Croydon area. In any case, having encountered both him and Russell Brand, I have to say that Mr Fawlty was a much kinder person all round, and he definitely never made nuisance telephone calls or tried to harass bank staff going about their lawful business. No, with all his faults Mr Fawlty was a kind and generous man, and he certainly wouldn't have written a pretentious "bookie wookie" called Revolution.

De Satturday colunm

I'VE WRITTEN ANOTHER BOOK

Birds do it, bees do it, even Russell Brand does it

Russell Brand is a smug git, isn't he? But he talks sense about drugs. In fashionable Notting Hill circles, they say that no dinner party is complete without some E, cocaine or cannabis (just don't try lighting up a cigar). I am sure that the working men of Barnsley are no different, relaxing sociably with a fix of heroin after they complete an all-night shift at the local tripe factory. (Most of my readers are from London, and will not have heard of Barnsley, but it is a northern town. Lancashire, I think. Tripe is a delicacy much enjoyed by people who use Twitter.)

I talked to Paul Bearer, my local undertaker, and he confirmed my impressions. "Of the under-21s who are brought in dead to our establishment, over 90% had been taking drugs." Again, we may be making a hasty generalization here, but I think this figure is typical of the population as a whole.

In my new book I'm in a fix, I discuss Brand's other addictions, including the much-publicised Sachs addiction.

Obviously Sachs in moderation cannot harm you, and often, when I am feeling depressed, I relieve my spirits by telephoning the man who brought us "Manuel"; when he answers, I wittily reply "I speak Eenglish. I leaarn it from a boook,"  "No, eet ees no a rat, eet is a filigree Siberian hamster," or "I know nar-theeng!" in a cod-Spanish accent. Then I burst out laughing and put the receiver down. The last time I did this I heard Mr Sachs saying "Oh, it's just that crazy man from the Telegraph again," so I knew he was as amused by the joke as I was.

But of course Brand, in collaboration with that other supposedly cutting-edge wit, Jonathan Ross, found that he could not control his Sachs-drive. Please buy my book, and I'll tell you more.
 

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There's no one like Dame Teksako Itchipowda

I've just discovered a promising young composer called Franz Schubert, who will probably be new to most readers. Here's his photo.

The legendary Dame Teksako Itchipowda performed his last three piano sonatas at the Southbank Centre on Monday ("piano" is a technical term used by some musicians to refer to one of those big instruments with a lid that lifts up. My friend Stephen Hough also plays one, but frankly he's not very good at Schubert). Dame Teksako is a neighbour of mine, and I often follow her into the supermarket, playing excerpts from Schubert sonatas to her on my piano-accordion, while she hunts for her essential supplies of baked beans and toilet rolls. She pretends not to recognise me, of course, but I expect she is secretly flattered to be adored by a Telegraph journalist.

There's an unfinished chapter about Schubert in my latest book, The Fish (a reference to his famous trout quintet, which he also arranged for a double bass: that's also some sort of fish, I believe). It's a little-known fact that it was Schubert's addiction to haddock that killed him.

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What might have been

I realised yesterday that we are approaching the first anniversary of the death of a prominent member of Al-Qaeda. Osama Bin Laden and I were at school together; he was one of the most gifted intellectuals I’ve ever met. Alas, he was unable to discipline his brilliant mind, while also lacking the social skills to mingle with ordinary people. He could orate, dazzlingly, on the Koran, the novels of Barbara Cartland, or the Thomas the Tank Engine canon. Moreover, he loved founding unusual sectarian groups, such as the “Tory Islamic Nudists" and the "Jihadists for Geoffrey Howe," which today have only a handful of members.

Osama was a much-misunderstood individual. I tried to convert him to Catholicism, but he confessed that he could never accept the idea of the Assumption of the Virgin Mary; also, he did not think that women should be allowed into church with the men. How history might have been different if we could only have agreed on these minor theological details.

I don't have much about Osama in my latest book, The Fez, but I do discuss in detail the question why so many people are addicted to silly hats.

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Doctor Who?

For many years, Alastair Campbell has been referred to as a "spin-doctor," but does he really deserve this title? I have been unable to find any evidence that he obtained a Ph.D. from a reputable university, or even from the London School of Egomaniacs. My editor asks me to point out that you wouldn't get Conservatives deceiving people in this way.

Indeed, leading intellectuals such as Richard Chartres tell me that they are very worried about this proliferation of undeserved "Doctor" titles. Here's another example.

Did you spot that sinister-looking chap with the glasses in the picture above? He calls himself "Doc," and is a senior executive for the Disney Corporation. I spoke to his P.A., a Mr Dopey, who refused to provide any proof of his boss's qualifications. Do you think that "Doc" is lining himself up as a possible candidate for Rowan Williams's job? I hope that someone will warn Her Majesty.

In my new book "Jim'll fix it" I write a hard-hitting chapter about how people can be addicted to qualifications - whether it be a B.Sc., an M.A., or a Ph.D. My conclusion: they're killing themselves by degrees. I thank you.