This is the spiritual journey of me, Eccles, my big brother Bosco, and my Grate-Anti Moly. Eccles is saved, but we've got real problems with Bosco and Anti.
This is me, Eccles

This is me, Eccles
Saturday, 22 March 2025
The five environmental mysteries of the Rosary
Sunday, 24 January 2021
Miracles are just a bit... unlikely
Saturday, 12 September 2020
The Book of Covidicus, Chapter 7: The rule of Six
1. In the ninth month of the year, the plague continued to rage, or, more accurately, to be slightly peeved.
2. For, although there were some new sick people, the Angel of Death had dropped his mighty scythe and now slew just one or two with his less mighty sword of cardboard.
"I need a holiday."
3. And Bo-sis spake, saying, "Let us talk once more to the people of EU-gypt about the issue of Brexodus. For, although we have left, there is more to be decided."
4. Thus he ordered his servant David the Frosty to meet with Michael Bar-nier in a form of mortal combat known as negotiation.
5. But Bar-nier was exceeding wrathful, for David the Frosty wished to take away all the fish for which the children of Bri-tain hungered.
6. This would force the Pharaoh, Ursula of Lebanon, to feed her five thousand people on just five loaves and two fishes.
An exclusive picture of the EU-gypt fishing quota.
7. Moreover, Bo-sis was forced to reconsider the Backstab, or the Irishite Question, wherein the trade in milk and honey with the Irishites was to be governed.
8. For, as is recorded elsewhere, whenever Bo-sis was getting close to the answer, the Irishites secretly changed the Question.
9. However, the plague had not gone away, and the Angel of Death spake again unto Bo-sis, saying "Coo-eee, I am still here!"
10. Thus Bo-sis took decisive action, and appointed an army known as the Marshals of Covid, who were to patrol the streets shouting at passers-by the mighty words "KEEP THY DISTANCE!"
"This street ain't big enough for the two of us."
11. Also, because Bo-sis and his servant Matthew, of the trible of Hanoch, liked to speak in slogans, they created a new one: "HANDS - FACE - SPACE - THE FINAL FRONT EAR", although none knew what it meant exactly.
12. Then Matthew of Hanoch counted up the number of his friends, and it came to five (if he counted the ones who did not really like him).
13. Thus he gave an order, known as the Rule of Six, saying that no party should consist of more than six people.
14. And all the people were angered by this, except for the Libdemites, who said "A party of six people? We have been practising this for years!"
Wednesday, 26 June 2019
Pope Francis explains the miracles of Jesus
Explaining away miracles is a good way to make Catholicism popular among atheists, as these guys have always had problems with believing in God, the supernatural etc., and these ideas are not, strictly speaking, needed in modern Catholicism.
Pope Francis went on to explain some of the other alleged miracles of Jesus:
The miracle at Cana (John 2). Yes, indeed the host's wine ran out. But the guests at the wedding knew that the host was an old stingy-chops, and smuggled in their own bottles and hip flasks, which (as it is recorded in the gospels) contained much better stuff, anyway.
"That reminds me, I do have a few bottles with me."
The paralysed man (Mark 2). This was the chap who was let down from the roof of someone's house, and was told, "Take up your bed and walk." It's clear what happened here: old Habakkuk was the laziest man in Capernaum, and had taken to his bed, rather than do an honest day's work. Jesus knew this, and told him to get up.
The man possessed by demons (Luke 8). This is greatly exaggerated, of course. The man was actually singing a selection of hymns such as "Gather us in", "Walk in the Light", and "Kumbayah". This upset a herd of pigs with great musical taste, and they all rushed into the sea to escape. Seeing this, the man instantly sobered up and went on to compose "Lord of the Dance". No, that can't be exactly right. But something like that happened.
Sorry, I couldn't find a picture of a man possessed by demons.
The raising of Lazarus (John 11-12). Of course, raising people from the dead is impossible. No doubt, Lazarus wasn't really dead, but was pretending to be dead for tax reasons. You try sitting around in a tomb for a few days, and people will naturally come to the conclusion that you have passed on, especially if you hang a sign saying "R.I.P." on the door.
Walking on the water and stilling the storm (Matthew 8 and 14). This is greatly exaggerated, and no doubt Jesus had found a underwater causeway: alternatively, He had been practising some sort of circus act. As for stilling the storm, well the trick is to say "Be still" just as the weather is getting better. Any competent meteorologist can do it.
St Peter decides to try going by car.
Answering questions (Matthew 22). No, we don't have an explanation for this one. Pope Francis has been unable to answer five simple Dubia ("it would be a miracle if he could"), so it is a complete mystery how Jesus managed to tackle some distinctly thorny questions from the Pharisees and Sadducees. It's simply amazing.
Monday, 9 January 2017
Do students of Christianity need a trigger warning?
Bernadette Snowflake, studying Christianity, Human Flourishing and Liberation Theology, University of Roehampton.
Oh definitely. Although, I'm not too bothered about images of crucifixion, torture, decapitation, rape, and martyrdom: after all, I can see these things on the BBC children's programmes every day. Did you watch their latest dramatisation of Pride and Prejudice? I thought the bit where Mr Collins was eaten by a crocodile was really meaningful and relevant - all right, it was only implied in Jane Austen's novel, but seeing the animal chewing his vital organs one by one was really artistically necessary. And my baby brother liked it too.
The Bennet sisters cheering on the crocodile.
No, what triggers me is the general homophobia, transphobia, femininophobia, and brutality in the New Testament. Who does this character Christ think he is, choosing male disciples? Also, my friend Rebecca is vegan and has a gluten allergy, so she literally threw up when she read about 5,000 wicked people gorging themselves on bread and fish.
Lastly, someone mentioned Heaven and Hell. I've been to Luton, so the idea of Hell doesn't frighten me, but some of my friends found the whole idea very unpleasant. And, anyway, I'm sure Pope Francis has told us that Hell doesn't exist.
I wish I'd taken a less stressful degree course, now. Perhaps Professor Spadaro's Advanced Logic Course?
Austen Allegro, studying Church History and Marxist Studies, Jesuit University of Little Snoring.
Church History is a fascinating subject, and largely consists of people shouting "heretic" at each other, after which the winner gets to burn, decapitate, or torture the loser. But this is perfectly normal human behaviour, and in my family we had no scruples about feeding Auntie Alice to the dogs when we caught her wearing a mantilla at Mass.
However, things have definitely turned nasty these days. I need a trigger warning when I see the name of Cardinal Burke - a man whose actions are more shocking than those of all the Tudor monarchs combined. The way he and his accomplices asked the pope "What rules are we playing by these days, Holy Father?" reminds me of the worst excesses of Hitler. Or Donald Trump. Or Nigel Farage.
I want my Mummy!
Friday, 18 December 2015
The Book of St Richard, Chapter 23
1. And lo! Christmas was approaching once more, the season of peace on Earth to people of good will (and maybe some others, too).
2. But Richard was still in those days an unsaved person, and he spake forth, saying "Bah! Humbug!" Or sometimes (for a change) "Bah! Jellybaby!" in homage to Tom Baker, he who had been married to Romana.
Richard displayeth a biological specimen in his living-room.
3. And behold, he went on the attack with a brilliantly-crafted tweet, saying "There are people who believe Jesus turned water into wine. How do they hold down a job in the 21st century?"
4. For he reasoned that the butcher, the baker, the candlestick-maker, and the professor of biology could not do their jobs adequately if they believed in an omnipotent creator.
5. For would they not inevitably produce bad sausages, or bad bread, or bad candles, or bad lectures, if they were men of faith?
6. Therefore, Richard, being of a scientific mind, decided to test the miracles of Our Lord, by showing that they were impossible.
7. Thus he gave a great dinner party, and served unto his guests water, poured from old wine bottles, saying "Marvel ye, this is the finest wine!"
8. And his guests tapped their heads and said to themselves, "Let us humour the old coot, lest he biteth someone." Thus they spake out, praising the water as if it were vintage claret.
William of Gates praiseth the Chateau D'Ocquins wine.
9. Then Richard began to show the impossibility of many other miracles.
10. He invited five thousand members of Oxford University to dinner and fed them on five loaves and two small fishes. They became exceeding wrathful, and telephoned for five thousand pizzas.
11. Then one of his keener disciples was moved to cut off the ear of a policeman, that his master might restore it. The case cometh up next week.
12. After this, Richard walked on the Sea of Galilee, and was rescued by the fishermen.
The miracle of Dawkins almost walking on water.
13. And there were many other miracles that Richard failed to do. Thus he was convinced that nobody could do them. "Well, it would be a miracle if they could!" he said.
14. Now, at about this time men spake of Mother Teresa, she who had spent a lifetime in good works, and was evidently a saved person.
15. And the Pope, he who was called Francis the Merciful, told the world that Teresa's acts of healing had continued, and that she was to be recognised as a saint.
16. And Richard was exceeding wrathful, describing Teresa as "over-rated" and her followers as "gullible".
An ignorant woman who knew little of selfish genes.
17. For had not he devoted his own life to good deeds, namely screaming at people of faith? And had not he performed miracles, in persuading people to buy his trashy books? But, as yet, few spake of Richard as a saint.
18. "Woe!" he cried. "It is not fair!" And again he cried, saying "Boo hoo!"
19. For Richard was angry that a Church to which he did not belong should dare to honour one of its own members without consulting him first.
Continued in Chapter 24.
Monday, 27 April 2015
The Irish chalk and cheese referendum
A chalk cake. Bakers who refuse to make these are sued for all they've got.
Supporters of the family have naturally been concerned about the consequences for children, arguing that a child "needs its proteins and carbohydrates." The "yes" voters, who claim that feeding a child on chalk is just as good, have a powerful counter-argument: they scream "Bigot! Bigot! Bigot!" until everyone goes home in disgust.
On this blog we are generally concerned with spiritually nourishing matters rather than simple bodily nourishment, and so we look to Christianity for guidance. Apparently, Christ never directly condemned the eating of chalk - which means it must be OK - but on the other hand He refused to feed the 5,000 on it, instead relying on an old-fashioned and probably bigoted diet of bread and fish (i.e., carbohydrate and protein).
I DEMAND that you give me chalk, you bigot!
Isaiah does mention chalk, but in a typically Old Testament bigoted way, for he says "He maketh all the stones of the altar as chalkstones that are beaten in sunder." This is supposed to be the origin of Judeo-Christian persecution of chalk-eaters, but since it is in the Old Testament we may ignore it, just as we ignore the Ten Commandments.
On the other hand, Christ preached against offering children stones when they ask for fish, so that makes Him a "bigot" too.
An old-fashioned child, eating cheese. He also has a "mother", so is doubly bigoted.
Prime Minister Enda Life has called for Ireland to become a "fair, compassionate and tolerant nation" by feeding its children on chalk. Enda is of course very keen on the protection of life, and so he brought in abortion legislation in order to eradicate as much life as possible. For those unfamiliar with the language of politicians, we note that "protection" here is used in the sense of a "protection racket", where gangsters protect someone by burning down their houses. Enda feels that destroying the lives of children by giving them a chalk-based upbringing will give them all the protection they need.
Enda explains to a delighted baby that he will be brought up on a diet of chalk.
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
Worshipping dead fish
A miracle involving fish.
Prime Minister David Cameron is of course a man of strong religious convictions, and, although he does not speak often of this, a pious Episcatorian. His trip round the fish-markets of Portugal at the time of Armageddon has been widely mocked (including, regrettably on this blog), but he was merely undertaking a pilgrimage in accordance with the tenets of his deeply-held piscine faith.
A dedicated fish-worshipper visits some holy shrines.
Episcatorians sing many of the modern hymns that Anglercans love, such as "Follow me, follow me, leave your home and family, Leave your fishing nets and boats upon the shore" and "If I were a butterfly, I’d thank you Lord for giving me wings, ..., If I were a fish in the sea, I’d wiggle my tail and I’d giggle with glee", together with modified versions of more traditional hymns, such as "Be still, my sole" and "Hark! The herald angelfish". They generally conclude their service with the traditional "The piece of cod which passeth all understanding".
On the side of the angelfish.
I hope that this clarifies the situation, and will put an end to malicious comments about David Cameron along the lines of "Why is he totally ignoring what ISIS is up to? Why doesn't he ask for a recall of parliament? Why does he make even Obama look good by comparison?" Our pious Prime Minister will pray for peace in the way he knows best, by visiting yet more fish shops, and he will leave the military aspects to Pope Francis, who is even now planning to drop an elite force of "Magic Circle" bishops in Iraq.
Sunday, 3 August 2014
In praise of the Fishwrap
The most obvious use for the National [Hahaha] Reporter (H/T Fr Z).
If five thousand friends suddenly descend on you wanting a meal - as can happen if someone mentions your party on Facebook - then there is no better way of catering for them than with fish sandwiches: in the right hands, five loaves and two fish can go a long way. In these circumstances, your fish would naturally be best wrapped in the National [Heretic?] Reporter, which is capable of packing in so much that is oily, foul-smelling, and even slightly rotten. Only the British Tablet can compete in this respect.
However, under controlled laboratory conditions, some people have managed to read the National [Whatever] Reporter without going insane, and today we shall review two of its articles.
See how many mistakes you can spot.
Did you know that the Catholic Church has women priests? I didn't, even if you spell them "Womenpriests". I don't think Pope Francis knew, either, and he's generally considered to be something of an expert on the matter. Here we have the National Catholic Reporter - yes, it really does use the C-word in its title - claiming that a gaggle of ladies in suspiciously stripy vestments are priests, indeed, that one of them is a bishop. Phew! That's a relief! We can cancel the Reformation and re-unite with the Anglicans, who are just beginning to catch up in this vital matter.
Now after that, you may think that some of the NCR editorial staff are in need of an analyst, the sort of person who can lie them down on a couch and say to them in a cod-Austrian accent, "So, and how long haf you had zis delusion about vimmin priests?" Luckily, there is an analyst on the staff, and he's a Jesuit!
Fr Thomas Reese SJ, a senior analyst for NCR.
Fr Tommy deserves the credit for another article that we'd like to review. Its headline is unpromising and a little insulting, but it is possible that - as at the British Daily Telegraph - the headlines are often written by teenagers on work experience. On the other hand, the quality of the article that follows also suggests that it was written by a teenager, rather than a worthy disciple of St Ignatius of Loyola.
Now, on this blog, we have always known that the kiss of peace was slightly problematical: see, for example, this guide, which tells you how to conduct the kiss without upsetting your neighbours, and this one, which tells you how to do so without catching an illness. Certain people in the Vatican have now taken our message to heart. You are not there to grope your neighbour, nor to try and beat your personal best in terms of "kisses" scored.
A scoreboard showing the current record as 346 kisses.
Fr Tommy takes a negative view of the Catholic church: basically the "Catholics against the Vatican" tribe has won. He says: The Catholic community, no matter what the Vatican may want, has made the kiss of peace in its current place a joyous symbol and no amount of catechesis will change that.
Yes, it's a great paper, the National [Oh-dear] Reporter. Recommended especially to Presbyterians, Muslims, Atheists, and anyone else who wants to see the Catholic Church looking very silly. Oh, and to fishmongers.