Rochie-the-Pooh

With apologies to A.A. Milne.

Rochie-the-Pooh, a bear of very little brain, lived in the Hundred Acre Wood under the name of Arthur.

Living under the name of Arthur.

One day he was feeling very hungry, and he said to himself "I think I'll go and see my little friend Austen Pigleteigh. Maybe he will have some cake for me." As he walked along the path, Pooh hummed to himself.

Now, please make no mistake, 
A cardinal likes cake!
You think that I should diet?
Only an indietrist would try it!

"But what if little Piglet doesn't have any cake?" asked Pooh. "Should I go and see my friend the wise owl MASSIWOL instead? No, he has taken up theology now, and he won't listen to me if I hint that it's time for a little something. Or rather, a big something would be better..."

Massiwol reveals the true meaning of Vatican II to a fascinated Rochie-the-Pooh.

"Perhaps I should have gone to see Christo Ber Goglin," said Pooh. " "He's not very busy today, just doing an audience. Of course I could telephone him first and ask him if he has any cake - he won't mind being interrupted. No, it had better be Piglet."

In the most depressing part of the forest, the WherePachaIs bog, lived Mike Eeyore, the donkey. Pooh's journey took him past the wreck that Eeyore called home. "Hullo, Eeyore!" he said. "What a lovely morning for eating cake!"

"Is it a lovely morning?" replied Eeyore gloomily. "Nobody told me. Even Christo Ber Goglin, who is knows everything, hasn't told me what I should think about the weather today. It's so depressing."

Farrell goes up, Parolin goes down

From the Secret Diary of Pope Francis, age 83¾.

Today I decided to reward my friend Kevin Farrell by giving him a new job. He is already Camerlengo, which means that he has the job of deciding whether the Pope is dead, and he is very good at it, since he phones me up every day to check. On his visits to Rome he taps me on the head with a small hammer to see whether I am still alive, and he has only got it wrong twice!

"It's not easy being wonderful, you know, Tom."

Kevin is very good at oversights, for example he says he lived with my ex-friend Ted McCarrick for several years without ever noticing that he was a degenerate pervert who molested seminarians. When screams came from Ted's apartment, Kev thought it was the air conditioning!

So I have asked my friend His Eminence Cardinal Farrell (to give him his correct title, which still makes people laugh) to take on oversight of various financial contracts that the Vatican engages in. Formally, he is to be the president of the Commission for Reserved Matters, and one of his missions is to ensure transparency. "I've seen through your financial dealings for years, Holy Father!" he tells me, so I know he's the right man for the job. But I wish he'd put that little hammer away.

How I knew Kev was going to be my new best friend.

Recently I've had to tell my ex-friend Giovanni Becciu that he should pack a suitcase and flee to a new job in Venezuela, where there is no extradition treaty. Now to my great sadness I am having to let another good friend go, Pietro Parolin. Pete was on the council overseeing IOR, the Institute for the Works of Religion (Istituto per le Opere di Religione), which is a code phrase for the Vatican Bank!

This may be the wrong IOR.

Memo: why don't we just call it the Vatican Bank? You don't get HSBC, Bank of America or Credit Agricole pretending to be spiritually nourishing organizations, do you?

Anyway, I've broken with Parolin now, and he is definitely on my list of ex-friends. He was doing so well - he says the Chinese love him, and when they appoint 100 new communist cardinals (any time now), they'll all be voting for him as the next Pope. Over my dead body! (Or at least over my sleeping body if Kev gets it wrong...) But people say that Pete is too much of an Eminence Grise, and it's time to take him down a peg.

Well, dear diary, that's all I've got time for now, I must dash off and put in an appearance at the grand Tutti Frutti celebration party...

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.