The massacre of Glencoe

Just for a change, here is a post that has nothing to do with religion. It tells the story of how the Campbells massacred the MacDonnellys in 1692.

A tale of Bonnie Scotland.

The Laird of the Clan Campbell was a braw man named Michael, who ruled his territory with an iron hand. At least he did, except when it was invaded by a tribe of PICTAs ("Protestant Invaders Call To Action"), in which case he tended to lie down on the ground and let them tickle his tummy.

The PICTAs were fearsome warriors, about which many ballads were sung, for example:

Rebekah O'Keeffe
Has a fine set of teeffe,
And she bites even hardeur
Than Ann Lardeur.

A PICTA warrior frightens two harmless clerics.

Anyway, Michael, the Laird, was a learned man, who wrote a journal, which he entitled "blog". In it he recorded the insights that had occurred to him in his life as a laird. With admirable restraint, he did not post many pictures of what he had for dinner, probably because in those days he would have to wait around while an artist painted it.

The Laird.

However, Campbell was much troubled by the clan MacDonnelly; its own laird, Nick by name, published a far more interesting journal, showing a greater awareness of the evils that beset Bonnie Scotland. In particular, he was none too sympathetic to the PICTA tribe, arguing that they were simply rebels who threatened the Pope, to whom he (and the Laird Campbell) owed allegiance.

Protecting the Pope, by feeding him on traditional Highland food.

Thus the Laird Campbell became angry, for many fewer people read his own blog than that of his rival MacDonnelly. "Fighting against the World, the Flesh and the Devil is MY job, even if I don't do it very well," he said. Thus the Campbells lured the MacDonnellys into a lonely glen, and vanquished them. Nick MacDonnelly was exiled to a primitive hovel - some say it was a shed, but that may be a myth - where he was ordered to stop blogging, and to pray and reflect. It is not recorded whether Michael Campbell also vowed to pray and reflect.

However, this is not the end of the story. After the massacre, there remained at large the wife of Nick MacDonnelly, a mysterious woman known only as "M"; showing great courage, she carried on the MacDonnelly chronicles while her husband languished in exile.

A mysterious woman known only as "M".

The Pilgrim's Ogress 5: The Spy who Saved Me

Continued from Part 4.

Ian Fleming takes up the tale.

"Get 007 over here at once," said F to his secretary, Cardinal Munnipenni. "He's the only person who can deal with this crisis. Tell him to leave his aunt behind - I will brief him on his own."

A few days later, Eccles arrived in Rome, having been flown in from a secret mission somewhere in South London. Ignoring flirtatious glances from Munnipenni (they still had a few such problems in the Curia) he went straight into F's office. "The name's Eccles, Brother Eccles," he exclaimed.

Pope Francis (sitting) briefs Eccles.

"Bless you, 007," said F. "I'm afraid we're out of dry Martini - he died last year."

"So I heard," replied "Eccles. I was shaken but not stirred by what he had to say."

"Now, we're sending you back to England on a special mission. According to the Protect Me blog, there have been a number of disturbing incidents in your country. A sinister organization called ACTA is determined to destabilize the Catholic Church, and we'll need you to go undercover and infiltrate it."

Tipped to be the next "Bond girl".

"What will it involve, sir?" asked Eccles. "Any good-looking girls that I can collaborate with?"

"Probably not this time, Eccles," said his boss. "Most of the members seem to be over 70 years old. Now, to join ACTA you will need to sign its mission statement, all about how you are inspired by the Second Vatican Council, but - and this is the important thing - there is a mysterious supplementary paragraph to sign up to, as well. This is top secret, and we don't know what it contains. We want you to get hold of a copy of it - it could be dynamite!"

"How do I make contact with ACTA?" asked 007.

"We have sent three other agents already, but they've all disappeared mysteriously. Probably they were spotted as being our people, because they didn't know the passwords or the funny handshakes; or maybe they rolled up the wrong trouser-leg. You'll need to be careful, Eccles."

"Anything else you can tell me, sir?"

"Yes, there have been one or two other mysterious incidents, recently. We don't know if they are related. For example, a priest who was supposed to interpret Catholic teaching in sign language turned out to be producing total gibberish."

Warning: total gibberish.

"Ah yes, I heard about him, poor fellow. Was there anything else?"

"It's a long shot, but at Saatchi and Saatchi in London they have put a blasphemous representation of Mary and Joseph on display. We don't know whether there's a link to ACTA."

Not Joseph and Mary.

"I'll get back to England straight away," promised 007.

"Before you go, drop in on C. He'll issue you with some equipment for your mission."

"C" with Zuhlsdorf^TM "Mors Vobiscum" liturgical beretta.

007 said his goodbyes to F, and went to see the man they called "C" or "Cormac".

"Now, Eccles, listen carefully," said C. "You'll be going in disguised as a priest. What I am giving you looks like a mobile confessional, but it is programmed to recognise voice patterns. Once someone says the words 'Miser Peccator', the confessional is flooded with an evil gas, sending the sinner to sleep."

The booby-trapped Portofess.

Thanking C for his gift, although wondering how he would ever persuade ACTA members to admit that they might have sinned, Eccles made his way back to England and rejoined his aunt.

To be continued by another writer.