Oxford University Press becomes Muslim-friendly

Following the decision by Oxford University Press that its authors should not mention pigs, pork, sausages, or other pig-related words in children's books in order to avoid offending Muslims, it was announced today that all pigs in existing works would in future be replaced by camels. Said a spokesman, "You can't be too careful. Look what happened to Charlie Hebdo."

The sort of filth we need to stamp out.

In the new OUP Animal Farm, the animals of Manor Farm, led by two camels, Mohammed and Abdul, revolt against the evil Farmer Jones. In best Muslim tradition they do this by means of a jihad, and impose Sharia Law. In the end, however, the camels betray the Islamic Revolution.

The pig must go!

Likewise, in the Blandings Castle books of P.G. Wodehouse, the stories are rewritten slightly, so that the Sheikh Al-Emsworth is obsessed by his prize camel, the Emir of Blandings (it would not be appropriate for the camel to be female!) His burkha-wearing sister Lady Fatima Bint-Keeble is also in attendance, although she naturally plays a submissive role. The dissolute brother G'Allah'ad Threepwood is no longer allowed to drink alcohol, but he loves his regular tipple of lemonade. He eventually becomes a heroic suicide bomber.

Goodbye, Piglet! You're unclean.

Meanwhile, the character of Piglet has been dropped from the Winnie-the-Pooh stories, to be replace by Camlet, a young camel. The story is also being made more Muslim-friendly with the addition of a flogging (Kanga, an unmarried mother), a paw-cutting (Tigger, for dishonesty), and a decapitation of the intellectual Wol.

Prime Minister David Cameron had no comment to make on the changes being made, except to ask whether it would be possible to include a transgendered character or even a same-sex marriage somewhere in the Winnie-the-Pooh stories, to reflect the diversity of modern Britain. He was invited to take this issue up with the Muslims.

This must go too.

Finally, it was realised that even children sometimes consult dictionaries, and so from now on the prestigious Oxford English Dictionary will no longer contain the words pig, pork, or sausage.

Oops... Sir Francis Bacon.

We should reassure readers that the writings of Sir Francis Bacon will continue to be published, although the author's name will be changed to Sir Francis Halal-Meat.

Anti-Catholic magazine sells 3 million copies

Thanks to a brilliant marketing coup, the anti-Catholic magazine The Tablet, edited by Catherine Pepinster, went on sale this week under the name Cathy's Tablo, and promptly sold three million copies to people who had confused it with the rival magazine Charlie Hebdo.

Cathy's Tablo (top shelf only).

Said one shocked customer, a Cardinal V.N. of London. "As someone who wouldn't dream of offending the prevailing secular consensus, I have been supporting the Je suis Charlie campaign this week, and so naturally I wanted to buy a copy of the Charlie Hebdo magazine. Because of its content it is sold on the top shelf of the newsagents, and I must inadvertently have picked up the adjacent and very similar Cathy's Tablo by mistake. Imagine my shock! I was expecting some nasty and unfunny cartoons mocking Mohammed, Jesus, the Trinity, etc. What I found instead was some nasty and unfunny writing, mocking the Christian teaching that is so dear to my heart. Who on earth thought that Hans Küng, Tina Beattie and Tony Flannery belonged in a Catholic paper?"

A Tablo contributor. Admit it, you just shuddered, didn't you?

It was reported that the "Je suis Cathy" campaign was now taking off, and that a second demonstration would be held in Paris this coming Sunday, to be led by François Hollande, Angela Merkel, David Cameron, Kim Jong Un, Robert Mugabe, Raúl Castro and Xi Jinping. People who are not famous are asked to attend a separate "plebs only" demonstration, so that they do not accidentally appear in the celebrities' selfies.

French police accidentally treat "Je suis Charlie" as a normal demonstration.

Meanwhile, in other news, the Nigerian President has sent a message of support to "Je suis Charlie", regretting that he was unable to take part in the photo-call march, since there was the little matter of 2,000 of his people just having been massacred by Boko Haram. Since these were just Nigerian peasants, rather than European intellectuals, he realised that his own massacre was relatively insignificant, but he felt that he should at least stay around to keep an eye on things. However, he signed the letter of apology with the words "Goodluck Jonathan", to show his support.

"Oh, why did my parents christen me 'Goodluck'?"

Why aren't you joining in the mass hysteria?

As the mutually enriching Fr John Hunwicke was probably the first to say, the eerie mass hysteria of the "Je suis Charlie" marchers is just a rerun of events surrounding Princess Diana's demise.

About the least offensive of all the Charlie Hebdo cartoons.

So let us look forward to this week's mass hysteria.

Tony Blair will come out of his coffin retirement to make a moving speech, explaining that these were the People's Cartoonists. The fact that they grossly insulted God, Jesus, etc. will be ignored because "We don't do God."

Elton John will rework his "Candle in the Wind" into a moving "Bougie* dans le vent", which will sell 100000000000000 copies and make him even richer than before.

* Note to non-linguists: "bougie" means "candle" not "budgie".

The Queen will be "told" to fly the Union Flag at half mast at Buckingham Palace, or risk being deposed by an invasion of sans-culottes (people without underpants). That sort of thing is very popular in France, at least in July.

Mohamed "Al" Fayed (yes, he's still alive, and probably still barking mad) will explain how the Duke of Edinburgh masterminded the murder of the Charlie Hebdo staff.

Many of us will be shunned by our families, friends and neighbours, because we dare to go outside without wearing a "Je suis Charlie" badge.

Spot the heartless terrorism-supporting brute who doesn't have a placard.

Je suis Eccles

After the distressing events of this week, you may be unsure how to react. We suggest a few possibilities: which of these slogans is yours?

Je suis Charlie

Look, I know some people are going to find my views controversial here, but I really feel I should stick my neck out and say that I am not a fan of murdering journalists and cartoonists. I mean, I found one of the Alex comic strips in the Telegraph totally pathetic and unfunny - well, most of them, actually - but I didn't feel I had to kill someone. Call me a woolly liberal who jumps on whatever bandwagon is going, but that's just how I am. If my views have caused offence, I apologise.

Je suis Charlie.

Je ne suis pas Charlie / Je suis non Charlie / Je non suis Charlie pas / Suis-je Charlie / Qui suis-je / Je suis la plume de ma tante (depending on level of fluency in French)

Of course I don't think those guys should have been murdered. However, unlike them I don't think that throwing bricks at the gendarmes in the 1968 riots was a pretty neat trick, and I've actually seen some of the repulsive anti-Catholic cartoons that the Charlie Hebdo staff produced. So I don't identify with them either. Sigh... I'll explain this again, slowly...

Je suis Ian

Of course my own magazine, Private Parts, which was originally intended as a radical alternative to Punch, is now as much part of the establishment as I am (I hope you watch me on my show Haven't we got any jokes for you?) We don't do much satire in the Parts these days, although we occasionally slip in a joke about child abuse whenever the Catholic Church is in the news. So we shan't be publishing anything that might actually upset someone, or even make them laugh.

The voice of the establishment.

Je suis François

Franchement, je suis hors de mon depth here. Vive la France séculaire, with its même-sexe mariage, l'abortion and le bashing de religion. Eh bien, les Musulhommes are bienvenus en general, particulierement les Musulhommes séculaires. However, I've got trop de femme trouble at le moment, and apart from sending in les gendarmes with all guns blazing je n'ai pas de grande stratégie pour dealing with a crise.

Je suis Jihad Jean

Ever since the days when I used to pull the heads off my dolls, I have been a fan of senseless violence, and defending the reputation of the prophet Mohammed is obviously a cause close to my heart. Starting a bloodbath is the only way to make people appreciate that Muslims are essentially peace-loving people, almost indistinguishable from paid-up members of the Church of England. And when all this is over I'm coming back to England to train as an actuary.

A lecherous, foul-mouthed alcoholic religious figure. I hope this was not based on any particular prophet.

Je suis Tony

As a full-time internet troll in good standing, I will question your motives whatever your reaction to the week's events. If you say nothing I will say you don't care, and if you make a comment I'll say you're attention-seeking. To those people who claim "Je suis Eccles", this is evidence that Brother Eccles - who, my spies tell me, is really Fr Jennifer Eccles, the transgendered Dominican referred to in the previous post - is still using dozens of sockpuppets.

Lily the Pink - some new verses

First, to appreciate this post, you need to be familiar with the classic song "Lily the pink". We particularly appreciate this verse for its sensitive handling of transgender issues:

Jennifer Eccles
Had terrible freckles,
And the boys all called her names,
But she changed with 
Medicinal compound:
Now he joins in all the games.

Pioneers of transgender awareness.

Now, here are four new verses.

Murphy-O'Connor
Thought he was a goner
When Austen said he'd misbehaved:
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now he hopes he may be saved.

"I'm playing all the right notes, but not necessarily in the right order!"

Professor Dawkins
Could not stop his squawkings,
Though they found his views were junk:
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now he's training as a monk.

Professor Dawkins becomes a Trappist.

Damian Thompson
Had mischievous romps on
His blog at the Telegraph:
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now he's gone, and makes folk laugh.

Thompson and Farage get ideas from the Eccles blog.

Cardinal Kasper
Made everyone gasp: "A
Man like this destroys the Church!"
So they gave him
Medicinal compound:
Now they've left him in the lurch.

"Can I come indoors if I behave myself?"

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.

Religious Cluedo - or who killed AC?

The story so far: Archbishop Cranmer, the celebrity blogger, has been found murdered. There are six principal suspects, all people who were (justly or unjustly) excluded from his list of the top 100 UK Christians in favour of more exciting people such as Catherine Pepinster, Giles Fraser and Austen Ivereigh. Which one do YOU think was guilty?

Cardinal Green.

The illustrious Cardinal Green, rumoured to have been the Eminence Verte behind the election of Pope Francis (who does not appear in this game), was once seen wandering round the cathedral with a candlestick. Green with envy because his sidekick Vincent Nichols made it onto the Cranmer list, and annoyed because his other sidekick Kieran Conry was exiled to a snakes-and-ladders game, could the Cardinal have decided to bash the celebrity blogger?

Sister White.

No relation to Canon White, the Vicar of Baghdad, who actually won the Cranmer game, Sister White, the pastoral administrator of a church in Milton Keynes, is described by her local priest in the Tablet as "a very good parish priest – she has that feminine quality that parish priests don't have". Why should Anglican lady vicars such as Libby Lane and Kate Bottley be Cranmerized, when this pioneering sister - who actually trades under the name of Sr Yvonne Pilarski - is leading the way for feminism? Sister White was apparently seen in the presbytery with the dagger.

Colonel Custard

The wrath of Damian Thompson ("Colonel Custard" of the Spectator) was wondrous to behold, when he discovered that he was excluded from the top 100, even though less famous Christians such as Tim Stanley, Richard Chartres and Alexander Lucie-Smith were allowed seats at the top table. Damian was last seen in Notting Hill with a piece of lead piping: he claims that it was an an organ pipe that fell off when he played Bach at Mach 2.

Mrs Beacock

An expert in religion, society and human flourishing (which is what we recommend to people who can't cope with grown-up theology), Tina Beacock is a high-profile lecturer, whose comic book God's Mother, Eve's Advocate is subtitled 4004 B.C. and All That. She was last seen on a Thames houseboat with a rope - an innocent enough item, given the context.

Professor Dumb.

Richard Dumbkins, although not a Christian in any meaningful sense, feels that he should have been included, since his writings have done so much to expose the contradictions and silliness of atheism. He was last seen wandering round Oxford with a spanner, although it may simply be that he has a screw loose (in which case shouldn't it have been a screwdriver?)

Mrs Scarlett

Once regarded as the Barbara Cartland of the House of Commons, the authoress of Say Farewell to the Archbishop of Corby, and No Communion for Mrs Mensch, produced a surprisingly orthodox contribution to the great "Should Cardinal Kasper be allowed to destroy the Catholic Church?" debate. However, because it was so sensible, it was largely ignored. She was last seen in New York, bearing a revolver.

So there you have it, six suspects who had reason to kill of Archbishop Cranmer. Over to you...

What to say if you meet a priest, bishop, pope, etc.

There are many occasions on which you may suddenly encounter a person in holy orders: coming out of church is an obvious one, but you may also meet a cleric in the supermarket, the betting shop, or even leaving the public toilets. There is an I-Spy scoring system, for such encounters: the Catholic version of the game gives you 1 point for a deacon, 2 for a priest, 4 for a monsignor, 10 for a bishop, 20 for an archbishop, 50 for a cardinal, and 100 for a pope. Double points if you can name him.

Apologies to Anglicans reading this: I don't know how many canons make an archdeacon, or whether a rural dean is worth more than either. Does anyone?

Mgr Guido Marini and an unidentified pope. 108 points.

Often, you will encounter your lucky cleric on leaving church, just after hearing him preach a sermon. Commenting on the homily is one way to break the ice. If you meet the reverend gentleman in less salubrious circumstances, it may be better to avert your eyes, and pretend you did not see him.

Anyway, here are few gambits that we have tried, with some success.

Deacons.

1. Good sermon, Deacon. I particularly liked the way you refuted the arguments of Fr Timothy Radcliffe. What a numpty, eh?

2. Good morning, Deacon. I'm so glad to hear that the geraniums in your potting-shed are flourishing.

Reading St Paul's epistle to the Geraniums.

Priests.

1. Father, your sermon made me wonder about adiophora. Would you say that 1 Corinthians 8 was helpful on this issue?

2. Father, I keep confusing good and evil. I couldn't tell from your sermon, but maybe you know. Which side are we on?

Bishops.

1. My Lord, how refreshing to hear the Donatist heresy explained by someone who actually knows what it was.

2. Good to see you, Bishop: you're not nearly as overweight as the man in the Spectator was claiming. Pity about the sermon.

Cardinals.

Congratulations on your first prize in the pie-eating competition!

1. Good day, your Eminence. How are we poor laymen to survive if the Church is a ship without a rudder?

2. Good morning, your ex-Eminence. Who are you going to push into the Chair of St Peter next time round?

Don't worry, your Eminence, those men in white coats are your friends. Just get into the van.

Popes.

1. How good of you to drop in to St Tharg's, Holy Father Emeritus. Of course we're not all familiar with the major German philosophers, but your homily sounded very smart.

2. Hell's Teeth, Holy Father, how are we supposed to keep smiling after what you just called us?

Personality test for holy orders

These days, people applying for jobs are often asked to fill in an online personality test, or situational judgement test. Just in case any of my readers is thinking of applying to become a priest, bishop, cardinal, or whatever, here is a selection of the sort of questions you may be asked to answer.

1. You are a young woman vicar in the Anglican church, hoping for a successful career. You have seen how Kate Bottley has managed to draw attention to herself by self-centred fooling around in the House of God. Do you:
(a) Go one step further, and become the first stripping vicar, after which media fame and fortune will await you?
(b) Learn to play the saxophone, so that you will quickly be promoted to the executive position of bishop under sax-discrimination legislation?
(c) Pray "God help us"?

Ite, Missa est!

2. You are a member of the Magic Circle of English and Welsh bishops, and currently a lowly Blessed Prestidigitator, but hoping to be promoted to the inner ring of Sacred Conjurers. Unfortunately, one of your deacons has set up a blog "Safeguard the Bishop of Rome" in which he lists many threats to orthodox Catholic doctrine (ACTA, The Tablet,... all the usual suspects). The Grandmaster of the Magic Circle is leaning on you to do something. Do you:
(a) Tell the deacon that he will spend the rest of his life in a brief period of voluntary prayer and contemplation if he doesn't want to end up locked in a garden shed?
(b) Set up your own rival blog in which you tell of all the exciting things bishops do, such as eating cake with nuns?
(c) Tell the Grandmaster to mind his own business, and take the plank out of his own diocese before trying to remove the speck from yours?

3. You are a fairly inexperienced pope, who is very popular with atheists but totally distrusted by Catholics. Do you:
(a) Pick an easy target such as the Curia, and insult them in fifteen exciting new ways?
(b) Promise to write an encyclical on a topic almost totally unrelated to the Catholic faith, e.g. climate change, pizza toppings, or which football club Catholics should support?
(c) Look around for anyone who may be more popular than yourself (Burke, Müller, Pell, ...), and appoint them to an "invisible" position looking after the Knights of Cyprus, the Bishops of Crete, or the Rooks of Gibraltar.
(d) Proclaim some new and absurd piece of doctrine infallibly, e.g. "From now on, everyone is saved"?

"My usual fee for an audience is $100,000, your popeship."

4. You are a young priest whose well-meaning but totally clueless aunt has given you a gift subscription to the Tablet. When the first copy drops through your letter-box, do you:
(a) Phone your bishop and ask if he will come round and exorcise it?
(b) Read it from cover to cover, and comment "My, that Tony Flannery's a smart young chap, isn't he? If only he were on our side"?
(c) Thank your aunt kindly and wonder whether it would be any good for lining the parrot's cage?

5. You are an embittered old Swiss Catholic priest and theologian. Although you are not allowed to teach Catholic theology, you have written 348 books, with titles such as "My struggle for freedom" and "Why I am still a Christian". But you are still not regarded as a Great Prophet. Do you:
(a) Fill your garden with more statues of yourself?
(b) Phone up Tina Beattie and ask her if she can get you a job at Roehampton?
(c) Buy yourself a New Testament, to find out exactly what Jesus really said.

And finally... a horror story.

6. You have been appointed priest at a parish that has a regular Tridentine Mass, attracting worshippers from other parishes. The worshippers have been led to believe that things will carry on as normal. Do you:
(a) Carry on as usual, in an attempt to become as well-respected as your distinguished predecessor?
(b) Close down the Latin Masses, for that is surely the will of God, as expressed in the Spirit of Vatican II?
(c) Like (b), only you get in some good ranting at the butcher, the baker and the candlestick-maker?

Answers: there are no right answers. But you didn't get the job.

The Top 100 Christians, part 2

The blogger Cranmer has now opened the envelope: the results of the poll for the top 100 living UK Christians are now out, and the Vicar of Baghdad is a worthy winner. I first blogged on this here, and I am delighted to see that my tips of Vincent Nichols and Giles Fraser were taken seriously. No laughing at the back, there. Also, we had a near miss when we tipped Bishop Campbell of Lancaster, since his most obedient deacon, Nick Donnelly, was on the list.

A truly holy man, and an obvious omission from the list.

Some of the winners have achieved great fame through publicity on this blog: for example, Vicky Beeching, who came out as a rock singer; Tim Stanley, alias Dr Who; Fr Ray Blake, the victim of the Brighton Argus; and Libby Lane, the first Anglican bishopess. Not to mention Austen Ivereigh and Catherine Pepinster. That's enough plugging old posts, Eccles.

Tina Beattie - omitted, in spite of all my efforts.

So who else should have been on the list, and wasn't? I was going to suggest Santa Claus, as he manages to be present in numerous places at the same time, proclaiming the joy of Christmas. However, he turns out to be Turkish, although his holding company is based at the North Pole.

Then there's Christopher Robin (Milne), as in "Christopher Robin is saying his prayers", but he turns out to be dead. The priest-detective Fr Brown of Kembleford, if alive, must be about 130 years old by now: it is rumoured that he lives in retirement in Scotland, calling himself "Basil Loftus" and emerging occasionally to write a humorous column for the Catholic Times. However, this rumour is unconfirmed, so I searched for others who embody the true Christian spirit.

Thomas the Tank Engine, in papal camauro.

Thomas, although a train rather than a human being, comes from a Christian family (the Rev. Wilbert Vere Awdry was his godfather). He is often described as a "really useful engine", but this does not go far enough. In terms of his faithfulness to Christ and his kindness to the poor, he surely provides one of the great spiritual examples of our time. It is true that he has a high carbon wheelprint, and would thus not be in favour with Pope Francis, but I think he can easily overcome such opposition. Success always attracts jealousy.

Fr Jack Hackett.

Although technically Irish, Fr Jack was featured in the Father Ted series of documentaries, which had two British producers, Geoffrey Perkins and Lissa Evans. This makes him eligible for an award, which he wins on account of his great holiness and kindness. Hostile critics have described him as "lecherous", "foul-mouthed" and "alcoholic"; it is true that when he awakes from a deep coma and shouts "EXISTENTIAL SCHIZOPHRENIC" or "NEO-PELAGIAN" at random passers-by, one wonders how he achieved his high position as spiritual leader. However, he is a truly humble man, whose needs are simple (mainly, DRINK), and we plainly see the Light of Christ shining through him.

Adopt a saint!

I have just come across a program that assigns you a random saint. Of course I had to try it, and out came St Gotthard of Hildesheim, who was new to me, as I presumably am to him too.

My saint.

From now on, we expect to be better acquainted, but Gotthard (if I may call him that) seems to have his hands full looking after travelling merchants; he is also invoked against fever, dropsy, childhood sicknesses, hailstones, the pain of childbirth, and gout; not to mention those in peril of the sea. It is unlikely that I shall ever suffer the pain of childbirth, unless it means my own birth, which was a distinctly rough experience, what with the doctor, who had never even met me before, thumping me on the back and then cutting my umblical cord. No wonder I hated the experience.

Hailstones are another matter - these are presumably a meteorological condition, rather than a medical one (that's gallstones), and like almost everyone else I am occasionally troubled by them. Saying "Hail, Mary" doesn't seem to be quite right here.

Pray to St Gotthard! Or alternatively, just go indoors.

In a previous piece I adopted a cardinal - Ouellet, who does not seem to have acknowledged the gifts I sent him: Eccles cakes, a statue of myself, and a copy of my autobiography Eccles, the man of destiny. Part 1: the unsaved years. Later, I adopted a deacon, and then a pope: in this case, Hyginus, the first pope never to have been canonized. I'm still working on that one,

So now I have to think of ways of supporting St Gotthard. Obviously a few preliminary prayers are in order, of the "Hello, Gotthard. I'm your patronized human; may I invoke your help some time?" sort. Then perhaps one day I shall make a pilgrimage to Hildesheim, which is not far from Hanover. He'd like that.

On my way...

For a saint, Gotthard had a relatively dull and uneventful life. He was a monk first, then became bishop of Hildesheim in 1022. During the fifteen years of his episcopal government, he won the respect of his clergy, as Wikipedia puts it: a custom that has long since died out in Germany. He also got some thirty churches built, which is something of a miracle in itself.

All in all, I am quite happy with my adopted saint. Presumably he will accept prayers in English: everyone understands English IF YOU SPEAK LOUDLY ENOUGH. Or maybe Latin - how nice to have a universal language available for all purposes to do with spiritual nourishment. I'd better start now: is that a touch of gout coming on, or is it just pins and needles? Salve Gottharde...

Hospice in the St Gotthard pass.

Celebrities ask for assisted death

A group of celebrities has written to the Telegraph "demanding" that politicians agree a plan to legalise assisted dying. And if nothing is done, then they'll scream and scream until they're sick. They can, you know. Apparently, 25 people a year travel abroad to be killed (compared with, say, the 1700 who are killed in road accidents), so action must be taken to make their self-destruction easier.

Eric Idle. Obviously an expert on the morality of killing people.

As many will remember, the prime mover for the "Why can't people be bumped off?" campaign is Lord Falconer. Note that a falconer is one who has control of a certain bird of prey, which is used to kill off weaker creatures - sorry, "assist weaker creatures to die" - and it is possible that Charlie Falconer is merely reverting to the traditions of his ancestors.

Set phasers on "assisted dying"! Patrick Stewart joins the campaign.

Of course, not all the signatories to the Telegraph letter are actors. Oddly, Stephen Fry is absent (which must automatically invalidate the list). Some of them are very eminent: one signs himself as Lord Rees of Ludlow OM, so that you know that he is a Very Important Person indeed, and not just any common or garden Lord Rees who wouldn't know one end of a telescope from the other. The fact that Martin Rees knows his Mars from his Albireo means that we should take his opinions on assisted dying more seriously than those of a man with no telescope. Lord May of Oxford OM, who has been Chief Scientific Adviser to the UK Government (yes, one man who knows all the science there is to know), is another who was wearing his "I've got an OM" tee-shirt when he signed the letter.

Lord Rees of Ludlow OM demonstrates the use of a telescope by putting it to his ear.

Fortunately, there appear to be no Catholics signing this infamous letter with the stench of death about it - how nice to be able to praise Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor for being a wise and moral Christian! There is one senior but retired Anglican who - as is well known - has gone over to the dark side: namely, the Humpty-Dumpty lookalike, George Carey. O George, time for a refresher course in Christian morality, you poor deluded buffoon. We've done this before, but this picture is worth another airing.

George Carey dresses up as the Angel of Death.

Religious predictions for 2015

Our predictions for 2013 were pretty much on target (we didn't repeat the exercise for 2014), so here is what is expected to happen in 2015.

January. ISIS troops run away in terror from an army of little old ladies. David Cameron celebrates this victory - for which he takes the credit - by going on yet another holiday to foreign fish-markets.

Training to combat ISIS.

February. Bishop Campbell discovers that Deacon Donnelly is still spilling the beans about bad behaviour in the Catholic Church, even though his "Protect the Pope" blog is closed down. He confiscates the deacon's laptop and telephone, places him under house arrest, and warns him to talk to nobody. Donnelly continues to proclaim the Catholic faith by means of smoke signals from his chimney.

March. Cardinal Dolan attends the New York St Patrick's Day Gay Pride March. Rather than look ostentatious by parading in full clerical dress, he disguises himself as a golfer (see below).

"A cardinal, me? No, I'm just off for a game of golf."

April. Tony Flannery, the "silenced priest" is encouraged to go on a retreat to a Trappist monastery. However, he is thrown out after two days because he refuses to stop talking. He blames the Vatican.

May. Pope Francis welcomes a party of disabled children to the Vatican. In a three-hour harangue, he lists 94 faults that they are guilty of, and reduces the entire class to tears. At the end he concludes "Who am I to judge? I'm the pope, that's who I am."

Preparing to meet the pope.

June. Paul Inwood makes a desperate bid for recognition as a respectable composer by releasing his "Rest" (the word "Requiem", being in Latin, is unacceptable to him). After hearing the opening chorus "Eternal Rest, zzz, zzz, Eternal Rest", critics suggest that he take out all the notes and replace them with rests.

July. Arundel and Brighton hosts a "Woodstock II" happening to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the diocese. Kieran Conry asks if he can bring his "plus two" with him, but this is refused. With Rowan Williams, Cormac Murphy-O'Connor and Timothy Radcliffe as guests, the organizers realise that they are a little short of Catholics, and invite Hans Küng, Tony Flannery and Tina Beattie as additional speakers.

Distinguished speakers arrive for the Arundel and Brighton happening.

August. The Church of England is accused of "institutional sexism" as it is revealed that it has not had a male Supreme Governor for 63 years. Prince Charles offers to take over, with the title King Ali Krishna Siddhārtha Charles, defender of all faiths except Catholicism, but in the end Goodish Queen Bess continues as before.

September. Pope Francis publishes a biography of Austen Ivereigh, the great reformer, suggesting that Cormac Murphy-O'Connor had a hand in his election as head of Catholic Voices. A clarifying statement is issued soon afterwards, confirming that Ivereigh himself knew nothing of this.

Pope Francis presents Austen Ivereigh with a copy of his book.

October. The World Synod of Bishops is held. To make sure that the "right" decisions are taken, Pope Francis asks Cardinal Kasper to write the relatio in advance. He then "accidentally" sends out invitations with the wrong venue to Cardinals Burke, Pell, and Müller, who find themselves stuck in Trent.

November. Pope Francis resigns, saying that he's had enough. Cormac Murphy-O'Connor takes charge of "Team Nichols", with the result that the Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster is the surprise choice for pope. This is astonishing, as nobody had suspected that he was even a Catholic.

The Archbishop of Corby misses out again.

December. Pope Francis II (to give him his official title) invites Tina Beattie to lecture in the Vatican, and offers the Sistine Chapel as a base for the World Gay Catholic Society. The Tablet warmly approves this move.