Eccles the violent

Well, I've been suspended from Twitter/X before. Five years ago in fact, and I never did discover what I did wrong. The story of my previous excommunication can be found here.

This time I was at least told what my crime was.

I wonder who reported me. Someone unsaved, obviously.

I'd better explain the context. There are two England cricketers who I think should be dropped from the national team, although the selectors love them. One of them, Shoaib Bashir, has recently broken a finger, and thus will not be playing in the next few matches. So I suggested, as above, that we would have to wait for the other, Zak Crawley, to be similarly injured before he could be dropped. That's all.

Cricket, as painted by Rembrandt (or maybe ChatGPT)

Whether some maggot really reported this posting or whether it was automatically flagged by Grok (the AI program that Elon Musk thinks is so wonderful), I can't say. But I was allowed to appeal.

The verdict? Well, the decision of the mad moderators was this: Our support team has determined that a violation did take place, and therefore we will not overturn our decision.

Oh well. I have no doubt committed other Twitter sins (but not violent ones) in my time and got away with them, so I will nobly accept my penance, which is a week's suspension. I return from the naughty step on Wednesday evening, and will resume the World Cup of Ugly Churches after a week's hiatus.

I should have realised that I was not universally loved when I saw the results of this poll:

Shock horror.

Let him who is without sin bowl the first ball

Following evident signs that the Pope has lost interest in religion, and is now devoting his time 100% to environmental activism, the England and Wales Cricket Board has agreed to take on the job of giving moral leadership to the world.

Its chairman is a man called Ian Watmore, of whom nobody has heard except in sentences such as "What? More woke nonsense from the ECB?" and so the job of Pope has now devolved to the England Captain, St Joseph "Joe" Root.

Time for prayers!

It is the job of popes to develop new doctrine that contradicts all that previous popes have said - well, Pope Emeritus Francis thought so - and Pope Joe has hit the ground running as far as that is concerned. "If you have sinned in the past - say, you said something naughty when you were a teenager - then you should confess, repent, and seek forgiveness. But now, here's the twist in the tail - YOU WON'T GET IT."

As Our Lord put it in the Gospel of St Ollie, "Come unto me all ye who have sinned, and confess your sins. I shall then make sure that you lose your jobs and never work again, even if ye be in your twenties."

The new England cricket team. Much more saintly.

As the disciples of Pope Joe, also known as the England cricket team, rushed to delete all tweets made since Twitter began in 2006, just in case one of them turned out not to be of truly saintly character, the Holy Father has decided to sack them all to be on the safe side, and appoint a team made up from members of the Trappist order of St Lord's. These holy men neither speak, nor write, and have never heard of the Internet. It is true that they will be unable to cry HOWZAT when they think a wicket has fallen, but on the other hand HOWZAT is now deemed a hate word, and it is best if they say nothing, perhaps kneeling in silent prayer.

As Pope Joe put it: "Consider the England cricket team. They can neither bat nor bowl. So, no change there."

Cardinal Pell is back!

Haters of the Catholic Church were up in arms today, after the news that the High Court of Australia had unanimously quashed Cardinal Pell's conviction for crimes that were physically impossible.

Cardinal Pell walks free.

"It's a sad day for Australian justice, if judges are going to start looking at the evidence, rather than simply saying 'He's a Catholic, he must be guilty,'" said one critic.

Another was equally outspoken. "A principle of Australian law is that we recruit judges and juries from all walks of life - the insane, the drunk, the stupid, the bigoted, and the crooked. What is the world coming to if we allow the case to be decided by seven judges who can spot that witnesses are making up silly stories that don't even make sense?"

"We sentence Cardinal Pell to have custard poured down his trousers."

Said one of the original jury that convicted Cardinal Pell: "Durrrr, I talk to the trees, that's why they take me away..." Another added, "I'm a teapot, you know."

As Pell walked free today, he commented "Oh no, not again!" on being told that he was now under "lock down" to avoid the spread of the Coronavirus. However, in his new cell he can at least say Mass, and is allowed to pray without being interrupted with cries of "What do you think you're doing, cobber? Get off your knees, you 'orrible little man!"

Meanwhile, there is panic in the Vatican at the news that PELL IS BACK - AND HE'S ANGRY. As George Pell was finally prepared to sort out those Vatican finances, there were a rush to the computers to delete incriminating files, a bonfire of receipts and invoices, and sounds of Cardinals practising the magic phrase "The money was just resting in my account, ready to be moved on."

Pope Francis confuses the issue by writing a cheque on a cricket bat.

Late news: there will be an even better miracle this Sunday when Someone who was dead returns and causes severe embarrassment to the wicked. No spoilers!

The case against Cardinal Pell

We are delighted to include an exclusive interview with Billy Bong, one of the jury who recently convicted Cardinal Pell of sex offences.

Eccles: Now, Billy, how did you get to be on the jury?

Billy Bong.

Billy: Well, I answered an advert, which said "Jury members wanted for high-profile trial. The successful candidates will have an IQ of 80 or less, be virulently anti-Catholic (if possible, freemasons), and to have had their consciences surgically removed." Unfortunately, I had already missed out on an earlier advert.

Eccles: What was the earlier advert?

Billy: "Story-writing competition. Make up a tale involving Cardinal Pell committing sex abuse. 200 dollars paid for the best fantasy."

Eccles: I see. Now, the original trial resulted in a hung verdict, 10-2 in favour of Pell. Why did things swing round so far for the second trial?

Billy: Well, we knew he must have done something, even if we weren't sure of the details. Think how many comedians use "Catholic = child abuse" as a very very funny joke, even better than the old racial jokes about aboriginals and sheep that we used to love. So what could we do but find him guilty?

A sign of bad character: Cardinal Pell argues with the umpire.

Eccles; What about the evidence that he was actually outside the cathedral chatting to the congregation at the time he was supposed to be in the sacristy?

Billy: Look, Catholics believe in miracles, don't they? So it must have been possible.

Eccles: And exposing himself while wearing alb, stole, chasuble, etc. over his trousers?

Billy: This was the prosecution's point entirely. Under his clothes he was completely naked!

Eccles: And the witness not being cross-examined?

Billy: They didn't want to upset him by pointing out that he was either a liar or a lunatic. (They'd had so much trouble with other witness, a junkie who kept changing his mind.) Inspector Plod of the anti-Catholic Task Force ("Flying Plod of the Yard") went to great trouble to write his testimony in green ink, and he didn't want to rewrite it.

Eccles: How about "Thou shalt not bear false witness"?

Billy: Oh yes, oh yes. They warned us that the Catholics would try to confuse things by digging up out-of-date theological arguments.

Aaaarggh!!! Can we stop now??? My brain is giving off steam!!!

Eccles: Mr Bong, thank you very much.

Picnic at Hanging Rock. Police claim that Cardinal Pell abducted these girls in 1900.

English bishops to relax the dress code

In view of the extreme temperatures in London - "nearly as high as the last time it was this hot" - the Catholic Bishops of England and Wales have agreed that priests may relax their dress code - cassocks, chasubles, socks, whatever - for Mass this weekend.

A Jesuit priest models a rainbow leotard.

"If the Marylebone Cricket Club can do it, then why not us?" explained Cardinal Vincent Nichols, as he rummaged through his wardrobe for a scarlet mankini. "We take our faith nearly as seriously as those cricket fans."

However, there are limits on what priests will be allowed to wear on "Scorcher Sunday." A request from the archbishop of Great Tobin that he could wear a see-through nighty-nighty was turned down.

Maintaining standards. This priest insists on wearing full dress when he dances.

To get a wider view of the issue, we asked the American bishops their views on stripping off in hot weather. Farrell, Wuerl, Tobin and Cupich were unanimous: "We prefer to cover things up." What can they mean?

The crimes of Cardinal Pell

A transcript of a confidential telephone conversation between Mgr Embezzla of the Vatican Bank and Superintendent Didgeridoo of the Australian Police.

E: Well that didn't go to well, did it? We asked you to frame Cardinal Pell for child abuse, so that he would stop his investigation into our financial - ahem - irregularities, and you've been found out!

D: We did our best, cobber. We wanted to nail him too, you know, for his opposition to same-sex marriage, and to the other plans we've got. We've had a crack team working on the case.

"We heard he possessed a beretta, so we sent 10 officers to arrest him."

E: Yes, and it turns out that all the dates and times are wrong. Even Pope Francis can give him an alibi.

D: Don't worry about him. He won't give a definite answer to any questions that Pell's counsel puts to him. Even cardinals can't get a straight answer from the Pope.

E: Yes, but the 200 witnesses who were present when he offered Mass?

D: We think he bribed them all with promises of eternal life.

E: Well, never mind that. Can you trump up any other charges?

D: Yes, we think he may be the infamous swagman who was part of the Waltzing Matilda gang.

Could this be Cardinal Pell?

E: Sounds good. Get him for jumbuck-rustling! Will Matilda give evidence?

D: No, she died about 100 years ago. Although we might try forging some emails from Banjo Paterson. Or his descendant, the liberal Catholic, Guitar Paterson.

E: It all sounds a bit flimsy to me.

D: All right, one final idea. He's fond of cricket, isn't he?

E: Yes...

Cardinal Pell explains how he helped Australia win the Ashes.

D: Then he's obviously the mastermind behind the new Aussie ball-tampering scandal. He brings shame on an entire nation. If that doesn't put him behind bars, nothing will.

E: Look for traces of incense on the cricket ball. If you can't find any, we can supply some.

D: It's great to work with you.

The 12 Days of Christmas

On the 12th Day of Christmas my true love sent to me

Twelve new reforms,

Eleven cricket-players,

Remember, the laws may be broken after appropriate accompaniment by a priest.

Ten new commandments,

Nine cardinal advisers,

Eight tips for family life,

Seven more saints,

Six new beatitudes,

All right, how many could you remember, even vaguely?

Five du-bi-a!

Four saved cardinals,

Three weird ones,

Popies: like groupies, but infatuated with a pope.

Two dreadful synods,

And a pope stuck up a gum tree.

A gum tree (pope not shown).

Lenten Reflections on Modernism

This blog will soon be closing for Lent, as I retire into the contemplative life of a hermit. I shall move to a shed on the Costa Blanca, where my only companions will be my four faithful hippopotamuses: Dolan, Pickles, Batmanghelidjh, and Auntie Moly. As a modern St Francis - or maybe St Augustine of Hippo - I shall exchange spiritually nourishing ideas with these highly intelligent creatures, but, except possibly on some Sundays, there will be nothing new to read on this blog.

Auntie Moly has a spiritually nourishing idea.

So, to give you material for reflection during Lent, here are some thoughts on modernism in a religious context.

Pre-Vatican II. A spiritual experience. Note the clouds of incense.

Post-Vatican II. Worshippers don't even know where they're going.

The revolution in Catholicism can be traced to three events, which collectively are known as "Vatican II". First, there was the Beeching report, saying that churches should be modernized, some being closed down and the others becoming soul-less. The results can be seen above - in the "modernist" service we don't even know which way the priest's going to be facing. "Extraordinary form" services still exist, but the Spirit of Vatican II is against them, and they are often only available to the lucky few in churches run by enthusiasts.

Traddy worship. Note how Fr Boycott's vestments are liturgically appropriate.

Bad vestments with the priest's name on the back!

Second, there was the move to bad vestments, and the rush to complete all one's worship in one day. Before Vatican II, a Mass could easily last five days, with intervals for lunch and tea. Experienced worshippers would use terms such as "night-watchman" (usually a disparaging reference to a deacon who came in for the night-time vigil), and "state of the pitch" (a reference to the quality of the unaccompanied Gregorian chant). These concepts have now largely disappeared.

An asperges from Pope Pertwee.

A guitar Mass with Pope Capaldi.

Finally, there was the Medicus Quis. In the olden days, Pope St Pertwee's main recipe for salvation was to "reverse the polarity of the neutron flow," which in theological terms means "turn back, O Man, forswear thy foolish ways." He often found salvation via the ventilation shaft (whence came the "rushing wind" of the Holy Spirit), and his services never employed guitars; only rarely did he use gimmicks such as the sonic screwdriver.

Pope Capaldi, on the other hand, relies almost exclusively on the sonic screwdriver. A demon appears? Zap it. A penitent needs a blessing? Zap him (oops. you weren't supposed to use the same setting, Father). Alleluia, zap-zap!

I hope these little thoughts will help you to stay saved during Lent. At least the hippopotamuses appreciated them.

A good thrashing for Giles Fraser

The story began when Giles Fraser, the ultra-liberal Anglican priest, journalist and radio personality, wrote a particularly nasty piece denying the reality of the Virgin Birth. According to Father Giles, who clearly doesn't have much time for Bible-reading, Jesus was the product of fornication - or possibly rape; which makes it rather hard to see how He would be the Son of God.

A hatchet job on the Mystery of the Incarnation? No problem!

Now Pope Francis has said that if anyone were to insult his mother, then they would deserve a punch, and clearly the same must apply to anyone who insulted the Mother of God. However, the Holy Father tends to be quite busy at Christmas, and so dashing over to London to give a heretic a "poke in the snoot" may not be one of his priorities. So it was up to Eccles to stand up for Jesus.

A few possibilities occurred to me:

De-bag Giles and throw him in the river. Unfortunately the Thames is rather deep, and I don't know how well he can swim. It would also lead to strange news items about beached whales.

Horsewhip him on the steps of his club, the "Champagne Socialists". It might be hard to catch him there, and anyway I don't suppose he'd stay around long enough.

Catch him in his church, St Mary's, Newington, and hit him with a cricket bat. Now we're talking. As it happens I have a nice bat that I bought from the recently unsuccessful cricketer Ian Bell ("hardly used").

Keeping the bat away from anything that might damage it.

So off I toddled to St Mary's Newington. I had asked my great friend Father Zuhlsdorf, "What is the liturgically correct time in the service to assault a priest?" but he was not sure, since it was going to be an Anglican service. I remained peaceful throughout the Gospel (readings from Giles's old Guardian columns), the sermon (or "Thought for the Day"), and even the shortened Creed, which went as follows:

We believe in God, more-or-less;
And Jesus may even have existed;
And we've got no problems with the Holy Spirit;
And we're all going to Heaven. Amen.

It was just as a hymn was announced (something about the People's Flag being Deepest Red, which was unknown to me), that I noticed a strangely familiar man sitting next to me.

A strangely familiar man

He was clearly in his mid-seventies, but he dressed as a teenager, and had evidently sewn a new message on to his shirt. "Aren't you Richard Dawkins, the famous zoologist, theologian, bus-driver and poet?" I asked. "What are you doing in church?"

"I was so impressed by Giles Fraser's Guardian article that I have decided to sign up to Anglicanism," replied the learned professor. "I have finally discovered that religion doesn't actually involve believing in anything..."

I was disconcerted. If Father Giles was winning converts, then perhaps I should defer his thrashing to another occasion, or even cancel it. I walked out of his church, and from a nearby Catholic church I heard groans of "MERCY! MERCY!" as the congregation reacted to the Paul Inwood "Year of Mercy" chant (1024 repetitions of the same banal tune). Yes, I should show mercy. Happy Christmas, Giles, even if you don't believe a word of it.

Pope Francis says "Have an abortion on me!"

By Julia Carpet-Chewer of the Telegraph, Tom Wingnut of the Times, and in fact most of the most foolish journalists in the secular media.

Yes! Pope Francis - who I've just discovered is the head of the Cathartic Church (memo, check spelling) has made it clear that during the forthcoming Year of Murphy abortion will no longer be a sin! In fact all Cathartics, male and female, will be encouraged to go out and have abortions, knowing that they will automatically go to Heaven as a result!

Is this why it's called the Year of Murphy?

I've been given a fascinating but rather difficult book called "Catholicism for three-year-olds" - oh, THAT's how you spell it - and, as far as I can tell, there are two important notions going round in the most advanced theological circles. One is called GOOD and the other is EVIL. Weird, eh? Now, if you do GOOD, you go to Heaven, and get angel's wings, learn to play the harp, and sit on a cloud. But if you do EVIL - now don't be shocked by this - you go and sit in a big lake of fire, eat brimstone, and watch endless television shows starring Stephen Fry.

A vision of Heaven.

And that's all there is to it, EXCEPT that you can still do EVIL and get away with it. All you have to do is tell a PRIEST - a sort of holy policeman - and you are FORGIVEN. But BEWARE, for if you've done GOOD and you tell THAT to a priest, then it gets FORGIVEN as well, and so you get no credit for it. This is what Catholics call ABLUTIONS.

It's a big thumbs-up to EVIL from now on!

So what did Pope Francis actually SAY? Well, he said that in the Year of Murphy there was no need to worry about committing sins. There won't be any! In fact he even said that HITTING STUPID JOURNALISTS OVER THE HEAD WITH A CRICKET BAT - although normally said to be one of the wickedest things you can do - was no longer to be considered sinful. In fact he RECOMMENDED IT. Oo - er...

Preparing to tackle the Press.

Spiritual nourishment for the England cricket team

Those not interested in cricket may skip this post, and obtain alternative spiritual nourishment by reading the book of Lamentations. Meanwhile, cricket-loving priests are asked to preach on some of the following texts this weekend.

An evil disease, say they, cleaveth fast unto him: and now that he Lyth he shall rise up no more. Psalm 41:8

And the Cook took up the shoulder, and that which was upon it, and set it before Saul. 1 Samuel 9:24

Thou art weighed in the Ballance, and art found wanting. Daniel 5:27

And beneath upon the hem of it thou shalt make pomegranates of blue, and of purple, and of scarlet, round about the hem thereof; and bells of gold between them round about: a golden Bell and a pomegranate, a golden Bell and a pomegranate, upon the hem of the robe round about. Exodus 28:33-34

A man shall not be established by wickedness: but the Root of the righteous shall not be moved. Proverbs 12:3

He putteth my feet in the Stokes, he marketh all my paths. Job 33:11

And the chief Buttler told his dream to Joseph, and said to him, In my dream, behold, a vine was before me. Genesis 40:9

The sons of Shobal; Alian, and Manahath, and Ebal, Shephi, and Onam. 1 Corinthians 1:40

I have seen an end of all perfection: but thy commandment is exceeding Broad. Psalm 119:96

Where no Wood is, there the fire goeth out: so where there is no talebearer, the strife ceaseth. Proverbs 26:20

What is man, that thou art mindful of him? Anderson of man, that thou visitest him? Psalm 8:4

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If these texts do not bring results, then there's always this one:

He hath cast me into the mire, and I am become like dust and ashes. Job 30:19

Call my Bluff!

For each word below we have three definitions. Which is the correct one?

Choudary

Looking forward to a bowl of choudary!

1. A choudary is a strongly flavoured soup made of pork. Seen in expressions such as That disgusting choudary has made me feel a little sick.

2. No, "choudary" is a Shakespearean form of "cowardly". See for example, Henry V: Go, go; you are a counterfeit choudary knave!

3. In fact, a choudary is a a cricket stroke that goes badly astray. The word is a corruption of the surname of the late Colin Cowdrey, an England cricket captain. For example: That was a pathetic choudary! Mr grandmother could have done better with a stick of rhubarb! (© Geoffrey Boycott)

A choudary.

Bergoglio

1. Clearly, it's a variation on "imbroglio". After the fiasco of the Extraordinary Synod on the Family, the situation in the Church has become a real bergoglio!

2. Nonsense, it's an Argentine dance, similar to the tango. I'm really looking forward to the next Mass: we're performing a liturgical bergoglio in honour of the bishop!

Time to begin the bergoglio!

3. Actually, it's a very humble peasant dish, something like a stew. The Holy Father came to the canteen today, and ate a simple dish of llama bergoglio!

Pepinster

1. It means a stern governess, of unimpeachable moral character but few religious convictions. The word is a portmanteau of (Mary) "Poppins" and "spinster". "Just a spoonful of sugar helps the Bitter Pill go down!" sang the pepinster.

Mary Pepinster.

2. As you knew all along, it's a very hot spice, something like pepper. Ye are the pepinster of the Earth, and I'm sick of the lot of you! (from the apocryphal Gospel of St Catherine)

3. Obviously, it's a specialised term for someone who controls the puppets in a religious service. The word is a corruption of "puppet minister". The pepinster overslept this morning, so we had to celebrate Mass without using the Teletubby dolls.

The laws of Christianity

With the news that the Vatican is to have its own cricket team, it is clear that some readers would appreciate a handy cut-out-and-throw-away guide to the game of Christianity.

The laws of cricket, however, are well known.

1. In the game of Christianity, there are two teams, called the saints and the sinners.

2. The team of sinners is much larger than the team of saints, and beginners will usually start there. This is called original sin.

Howzat? An original sinner.

3. The object of the game is for the sinners to become saints. The saints will help this, but other sinners will try and prevent this.

4. Declaring one's innings closed is considered bad form, although not against the laws of the game. Causing someone else's innings to end is more serious, and the party responsible loses the game.

5. At various stages in the game a "tempter" will run up and attempt to get past a player's guard. Points are scored for batting away such attacks.

6. The player who is batting has a variety of scoring shots available, all with technical names such as praying, fasting, alms-giving, etc.

7. A cry of "Alleluia!" or "'Owzat?" will greet the end of an innings.

8. There is a Trinity of umpires. Two of these are out on the field, but one is pavilioned in splendour and girded with praise. Their decision is final.

The pavilion at Lourdes cricket ground.

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Meanwhile, as the Vatican decides whether to recognise the controversial events at Medjugorje as apparitions of the Virgin Mary, it has been asked to adjudicate on another controversial event.

Probably NOT Mary.

According to a part-time mystic, Brother Eccles, he was on holiday in the village of Muddlejorge, when he awoke from a doze to see an old lady in the room with him, smelling of gin. She screamed "WOEFUL!" at him, hit him over the head with a bottle, and then herself fell to the floor and started snoring. Eccles blacked out for a while, and when he regained consciousness, the lady had vanished.

A Vatican spokesman said: "As in the case of Medjugorje, this is totally unlike the apparitions of the Virgin Mary that we have so far accepted - Lourdes, Fatima, Walsingham, etc. - in both the appearance and the message of the alleged apparition. However, 'Woeful!' is probably a good rendering of Mary's views of the current state of the world, so perhaps it was a genuine apparition after all. Who knows?"

Eccles's Auntie Moly was unavailable for comment.

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Finally, the Vatican has withdrawn a papal medal where the name "JESUS" was misspelt as "LESUS".

I blame the Lesuits.

In fact, this is not the first time that J and L have been confused in religious circles. In the first century, in an attempt to appease the Romans, St John wrote "God is Jove". However, this was transcribed as "God is Love", and we have had to live with the consequences ever since.

An Appetite for Wonder

We are delighted to be able to print an extract from Richard Dawkins's new book An Appetite for Wonder, the first instalment of his long-awaited autobiography.

This bug in a jar proves the non-existence of God.

From an early age I realized two things:
1. I am the cleverest person who ever lived, even greater than my hero Charles Darwin.
2. God does not exist.

You can keep all your great thinkers and philosophers: Aquinine, St Augustus, Decarthorse (memo: check names). They weren't fellows of New College, Oxford with their own Foundation. Nowadays, nobody has heard of them, except the Regius Professor of Divinity, and what does he know about the personal hygiene of flies? Well, there you are.

At school I won all the prizes: the Mrs Joyful Prize for Raffia-Work, the Charles Darwin Prize for Cricket (my essay on "why crickets don't need bats" was reprinted in the school magazine), and of course the Victor Ludorum Prize for the largest brain, measured at Standard Temperature and Pressure.

Would a loving God have allowed such an ugly fish to exist?

Where was God in all this, you may ask? Was He there when I called upon Him, at the age of five, to strike Nanny with a thunderbolt? No, all He gave her, in answer to my prayers, was a slight sniffle, and that would probably have happened anyway after I poured lemonade down her neck.

Darwin is really cool, don't you think? He debated with his critics in a masterly way. I admire the fact that he used to make public pronouncements saying that all Catholics were "vile"! Why on earth didn't they give him a knighthood? Come to think of it, why on earth don't they give me a knighthood? Or, better still, a peerage? I can trace my ancestry back to Sir Richard Dawknobs, the 18th century composer, who many said was greater than Handel. (See pages 48 to 61 for my family tree.)

At school they gave me a special cap to wear.

The secret to life, by the way, is genes. And memes. And - a new hybrid that everyone has missed - gnomes! Basically, a human being is just a gnome's way of making another gnome. And you can never have too many gnomes. Gnomes are denizens of geological time: gnomes are forever.

In Volume 2 - how the Catholic Mafia sent me horses' heads.