Religious predictions for 2013

January. Paul Inwood complains of the repetitiveness of so many traditional Christmas carols, objecting that he was asked to sing "Oh come let us adore him" three times in each verse of Oh come all ye faithful.

February. The Editor of the National Catholic Reporter resigns in disgrace, and the position is offered to Fr John Zuhlsdorf. However, Fr Z declines, as he has just been appointed Bishop of the Blogosphere.

Episcopus Blogospherae.

March. Justin Welby is enthroned as the new Archbishop of Canterbury. In a moving sermon he pays tribute to the National Health Service, to his predecessor (Baron Waffles of Mumbles) and to his trade union, the National Union of BIshops and LEaders (NUBILE). As an afterthought he mentions God.

April. Tina Beattie holds a grand birthday party, and invites the Pope, Bishop Declan Lang, President Mary Lyons of San Diego, Charles Moore, and James MacMillan. They all accept with enthusiasm. Two days before the party is due to take place, Prof. Beattie cancels all the invitations, saying "fooled you!"

May. The Tablet conducts another survey, asking readers which of the "eight commandments" they think is most relevant to the present day. After it is tactfully pointed out that the canonical number of commandments is ten, Catherine Pepinster withdraws the survey, replacing it with one in which she asks people "How many of the six persons of the Trinity can you name?"

Moses - a Tablet reader.

June. Giles Fraser fulfils his heart's desire on being sent to prison for conducting a marriage ceremony involving three men and an elephant.

July. World Youth Day, Rio de Janeiro. The Pope is involved in an embarrassing situation, when the security guards refuse to admit him, saying that he "looks at least 30." Luckily, he gets in using a Vatican Young Person's Rail Card.

The Pope - looking more youthful every year.

August.It is revealed that Mrs Gladys Mills was a pious Catholic and the grandmother of Damian Thompson. In his new biography Granny Gladys, Damian reveals how he used to go round to her house for cupcakes and a recital of Rachmaninov's latest hits.

September. Richard Dawkins abandons work on his latest theological treatise, 101 ways to kill a Catholic, and comments, "You know, maybe they have a point after all."

October. The Church of England holds another synod. David Cameron posts armed guards outside the doors, and says that nobody will be allowed to leave until they have voted to ordain women bishops. He later denies trying to interfere with the religious freedom of the Church of England.

Did anyone bring some sandwiches?

November. The Year of Faith comes to an end. Liberal Catholics say they found the whole idea too controversial, and propose a Year of Doubt instead.

December. The second film in the Hobbit trilogy (based on books by that woeful traddy Catholic J.R.R. Tolkien) is released. In a surprise move, it is revealed that Stephen Fry is now taking the part of Smug the great Drag.

Damian Thompson exercises the right of reply

Damian Thompson, posing with a group of his most loyal readers.

I have always regarded Eccles as one of the most valued commentators on my Telegraph blog: his comments, made from the perspective of a truly saved person, have invariably been incisive and witty, and it was a great loss to all of us when he left the "Holy Smoke" community and decided to concentrate on his own blog.

Eccles - a man with very good hair.

Of course I do have one or two other brilliant commentators, with whom I engage regularly on my blog. For example, there is Eccles's Auntie Moly or "molybdenite," who may be a senile gin-soaked old thug, but who is nonetheless always ready to insult people in a way that I can only dream of emulating. Another person whose comments I appreciate is "Sister Muriel," from the church of St Daryl the Apostate down in the southwest, who tells me he is "a priest in good standing, sweetie."

But I digress. Eccles and I have shared many good times together, and I am very grateful to him for giving some publicity to the new hair salon that I have just opened. Here clients can get a truly Catholic haircut while listening to the sound of Gladys Mills playing Bach's Well-tempered Clavier.

My new hair salon

One question that I don't have the space to answer today is: "How on earth did a brilliant journalist like Cristina Odone, The John Humphrys of the Telegraph blogs as she calls herself, ever condescend to join my team?" Eccles describes her as "Damian's cook," and it is true that I rely on her for my morning cupcakes, but she is also a brilliant interrogator, one who does not hesitate to shout abuse at Chris Patten when we hear his voice on the Today Programme.

Eccles does not seem to have fully explained my relations with the "Magic Circle" of bishops which constitutes the main Vaticosceptic opposition to Pope Benedict XVI in this country. He seems to believe that I am in some ways less than totally enthusiastic about Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O'Connor. Well, this is not the case - I regard Cormac as a mentor, and as one of my closest friends.

The Cormac Singers performing Happy Birthday in my honour.

Indeed, at present I am rather worried because the Pope has sent Cormac off to Bangladesh as his special envoy - an arduous trip for an 80-year-old man, which will involve his sleeping in a snake-infested mangrove swamp and living on a diet of frogs and insects. If he survives this, the Holy Father is next proposing to send Cormac as special envoy to the South Pole in his unique Mission to the Penguins.

It's all right, Cardinal, I don't eat meat on Fridays.

Apart from that, Eccles's blog seems to be 100% accurate. As he claims, he is still staying with his aunt as my guest at Castle Thompson, and he really is one of my closest friends: I certainly would not be able to write my weekly Telegraph column without his invaluable ideas.

Thanks to Eccles, I am not unknown in Latin-speaking circles!

A few advertisements

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You've seen Damian Thompson, you've seen Cristina Odone. But now, scarier than either, is the perfect accessory for Hallowe'en.

Cause real terror in your neighbourhood this Hallowe'en as you jump out at your neighbours and scream the dreadful words "GOD PROBABLY DOES NOT EXIST!!!" Watch them run for cover, as they think you are about to plug one of Dawkins's dreadful books!

Walk into a Catholic cathedral, and see the bishop hastily turn to the exorcism rite! Watch priests go into hiding, fearful that you may try and arrest them!

Warning: we recommend that you do not inflict Dawkins on children under the age of 45, elderly people with weak hearts, or the Pope.

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New Tablet Computer on sale

The perfect device for those who hate Catholicism but wish to make telephone calls and surf the web! It comes with a built-in Pepinster^TM chip that protects your children from all orthodox religious websites.

In each model there is installed a copy of the Tablet Bible, "Professor" Tina Beattie's monumental tome, The Mass - an occasion for dirty thoughts.

Of course you can also watch videos on your Tablet, and here is one we particularly recommend.

A scene from the Wizard of Oz. The Wicked Witch reads out an evil incantation.

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Men! Do second-rate journalists mock your hair? Come to Damiano's, the renowned hairdresser's and beauty parlour.

Damiano is waiting to give you a truly Catholic hairstyle.

Relax to the soothing sounds of Gladys Mills playing Bach's monumental The bad-tempered ferret, while Damiano (Il Barbiere di Notting Hill) gives you a haircut that nobody will dare to mock.

For the middle-aged client with too much hair, the "Boris" is now out of fashion, and Damiano recommends:

The "Michael" Fabrication, a Damiano speciality.

While, for the older balding man looking for love, the "Andrew Neil" look is no longer recommended, and Damiano now suggests:

The "Silvio," as sprayed on by Damiano himself.

Advice on keeping your weight down is also available, while, for the ladies, Signora Cristina will soon be opening a special department dealing with beauty problems.

Near-death experiences

In view of a near-death experience claimed by Dr Eben Alexander, which is the basis of his new book Proof of Heaven, we asked some of the regular characters appearing on this blog to describe their own near-death experiences.

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Bosco, worshipper at the Calvary Chapel, and saved person.

Hello, could I speak to Jesus, please?

Eccles, you poor sick monkey, I had a rotten experience when I tried to save a convent of nuns, and I was badly beaten up by them. As I lay in hospital, near to death, I found that I was standing outside the Gates of Heaven, explaining to St Peter that all Catholics were idolaters, and should be sent to the Lake of Fire. "I am saved, even more than you are," I told him. "I've come for my throne and my golden crown."

St Peter is shocked by Bosco's blog.

"Ah, Bosco," said St Peter. "I've been reading your blog, and we've got a totally different fate for you..."

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Damian Thompson, formerly a religious journalist.

Damian is the one alone at the front, whom nobody else will talk to.

The first thing that struck me about St Peter, when I saw him, was that he was putting on weight. In fact, the whole tone of Heaven was very disappointing, and I was totally unimpressed with the angels, who were definitely smirking at me. The music was not Gladys Mills plays Beethoven, as I had been led to expect, nor even something by my friend James MacMillan, but a dirge that sounded like an eternal repetition of "Alleluia Ch-ch."

Angels - what dreadful hair styles they have.

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Moly, aunt of Eccles and Bosco.

A recent photo of Moly.

Well I don't believe in God or Heaven, but I did have a very strange dream last night when I finally dropped off. I was in Paradise, wearing my new Moly Number 5 cigarette- and gin-scented perfume. But I was surrounded by possums, all jumping up and down, and there wasn't a bottle of gin to be had anywhere. "It's endless torment for you," said a loud voice to me, probably one of those bullying traddy Catholics. Woeful.

Vicious possums. They're out to get me. I know it.

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Father Arthur, of the Church of St Daryl the Apostate.

I'm a priest in good standing, you know.

Well, I wasn't going to stand any calumny from the man waiting for me at the Gates of Heaven, so I got my attack in first. "May I remind you, 'Saint' Peter, that as recorded in the 26th chapter of the book of St Matthew, and elsewhere, you denied Christ on no less than three occasions? Does that give you the right to comment on the behaviour of other people? I am a priest in good standing, with no time for your traditionalist ways. Haven't you people heard of Vatican II? Now clear off, and let me do your job properly for you."

The Last Judgement. But Fr Arthur will willingly give you a preliminary verdict.

Bosco returns, and we sees King Lear

We left my bruvver Bosco hidin in an Ecuadorian souvenir shop "Llamas 'R' us," run by de mysteriuos Juliano Assangua. But you cannot keep a good man down for long, and it was no surprise when he turned up at Castle Thopmson in Notting Hell, where Anti Moly and me is stayin.

Apparently, Bosco has got a new obsessoin, and now he hates images of muvvers and babies, cos dey reminds him of de Madonna and Child.

Mother and baby. A symbol of Catholicism.

So he got cross when he saw de pitcher above, wot is a lama wiv her baby, and smashed it. After dat he had to leave "Llamas 'R' us," so he came to London to be wiv his nearest and dearest (me and Anti Moly).

Bosco was explanin to us dat pitchers of Mary and Jessus was reely based on de Babbleonions Semiramis and Tammuz - notice de grate cioncidence dat dey both features a muvver and a baby. You don't often see muvvers holdin babies, so dat proves it's de same poeple.

Semiramis and Tammuz. A symbol of Catholicism.

Anyway, to get to de main story, our host Damain Thopmson wrote annuver luvvly blogg, which started as follows:

I have just rediscovered a playwright who will probably be totally unfamiliar to most of my readers. He's called William Shakespeare, and he's definitely one to watch. When I was a child my teacher, Mr Pegnall, took me to see Hamlet, which is a jolly super play in which everyone gets killed. I had a whole bag of cupcakes, and was sick over Mr Pegnall. Soon I am going to see King Lear, which my friend Daniel Hannan says is a searing indictment of the European Union.

I have just built a "Gladys Chapel" in my home, Castle Thopmson, where I pray each day to St Gladys of Mills...

St Gladys of Mills.

Anyway, this explains why Damain, me, Bosco, and Anti Moly is sittin in de theatre, watchin a performance of King Lear. It's a rather complicated story about a king wot gives away his kingdom and goes mad, and I wonder if dat is an allegorry for what happened to Damain when he stopped bein a relligiuos blogger.

Anti Moly said she liked de play very much. When Gluocester got his eyes guoged out, she shouted "Hooray!" and explaned dat dis was de way to treat traddy Cathlics. Then when Gluocester got to de edge of a cliff, she shuoted "Go on, jump!" but was disappointed dat he survived dat bit.

King Lear and Bosco de fool.

Bosco made up his mind dat de main poeple in de play weren't saved, except for de fool, a pusson like Bosco wot seems to be totally mad. Unlike Bosco he is in fact very wise, and maybe even saved. Bosco said de best lines in de play was "There's hell, there's darkness, there's the sulphurous pit, Burning, scalding, stench, consumption; fie, fie, fie! pah, pah!" Dis is only what unsaved pussons can expect.

Damain was, as usaul, more interested in de pussonal quallities of de characters. He knew dat Edmund was a baddie cos he had got bad hair and was slightly overwieght. Dese are de sort of detales dat will only be noticed by a quallity juornalist and critick.

Well, now dat Bosco is in London, we expects him to make a tuor of Cathlic churches in order to save dem from dere sins. Lock up your iddles!

Soon you will no longer be able to worship dis iddle.

In secular seculorum

My Anti Moly, wot is an atheist, and not very saved, was sittin in an armchair last week, drinkin a "possum's spleen" cocktail - gin, tomato juice, custard, and a dead spider - when she said to me, "Eccles! De Natoinal Secular Society is gonna hold a Secular Europe Rally, and we is gonna go along. Dey has put an advert in de paper sayin, 'Because of equality and diversity regulatoins, we is now obliged to recruit some intelligent people as well,' so let's go along and see what it's like."

As you can see, fanatical loonies are still welcomed.

"But Anti," I explaned, "I is a saved pusson, and we doesn't do secularism in de Calumny Chappel." But she insisted.

Our host, Damain Thopmson, said he couldn't come, because he was goin to a meeting of de Pinkshorts - dat's a para-military group he has jioned, wot sits around all day eating cupcakes and waitin for de return of Gladys Mills, de once and future Queen. (When she turns up, dey will shout "Heil Gladys!") So Anti and me went on our own.

We was very pleased to see lots of celebrities marchin down de street saying "What does we want? Nuffink! When does we want it? Now!" For example, I saw Richard Dakwins carryin a banner, sayin, "Church of Dakwins. Please leave your brains outside" (dat's a joke I stole from de opera Oilanthe).

"I'm sure that Declan was only joking when he called me the Satanic Anti-Christ."

Also de famuous Cathlic Professor Tiny Betty was dere, de one wot has been so creully banned from a 20-mile radius of Clifton Catheddral. I used to fink dat Cathlics cuoldnt be secularists, but luvvly Tiny tells me dat on matter such as divorce and gay marriage she is much closer to de secularists dan to de Pop. "Is you gonna swim back over de Tiber?" I asked her. "Swim, Eccles? I finks I can walk on it!" she replied.

"Between the two of us we should be able to keep Professor Beattie out."

Well, de highlight of de secularist rally was a speech from Terry Sanderson, pointin to de acheivements of secularism in history. I can quote it in full. "Er, um, well, yes, we've all done very well." I like a speech like dat wot gives me plenty to fink about. I weren't so sure when he came to talk about what a grate fing it is to abort babies if dey is gonna be ugly like my bruvver Bosco, to have sex wiv poeple of de same sex, and to get put to death when you ain't feelin' too well. My Anti Moly ran away at dat point sayin "I aint ready to die yet, it was just a bad spider I ate."

I fink Terry must also be quite keen on slavery too: apparently dere was a chap called Wilbur Force who stopped it, and I fink he was gonna point out dat it's just anuvver example of how relligoin prevents us all from havvin fun.

Wilbur Force - a typically interfering Christian.

I gotta chance to talk to dis Terry pusson afterwards, and I fink his probblem is dat he got very bored by relligoin in school, and so decided dat de experts had got it wrong. He told me dat he also got bored by mathemmatics, so next week he is organizing an Innumerate Europe Rally, wiv de following powerful sloggan:

Don't accept that 2 + 2 = 4.

2 + 2 = 5 is your right.

Well, we all had a good time bein secular. But when I left, and I said "God bless you, Mr Sanderson, you is a slightly saved pusson," he bit me in de leg. I fink I might have rabbis now - being ecumenical aint as easy as it seems.

Dr Eccles's casebook

We are pleased to be able to publish some of the casenotes of the learned psycho-analyst, Dr Eccles. Some of the names have been disguised in order to maintain patient confidentiality.

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Stephen F.

Patient S is an alleged intellectual giant, although it is hard to determine a precise area of knowledge on which he is a world authority. In a St Trinians film, playing the part of a quizmaster, he managed to get wrong the formula for the volume of a sphere, so he is clearly not a scientist. Still, I went along with his belief that he is an intellectual, as he will run away to Belgium in a huff if he doesn't get his own way.

S came to see me because he had developed a compulsion for giggling at inappropriate things. He showed me a joke about child abuse (basically a picture of the Pope with a lewd caption added); he had tweeted this to his millions of adoring fans and spambots, simply in order to get a cheap laugh at the expense of the Catholic church.

Now add a clever-clever caption about child abuse.

I am exploring S's other mental deficiencies - for example, he thinks the word "bottoms" is hilariously funny - and trying to work out whether there is a common pattern. Meanwhile, I am advising him to avoid funerals, memorial services, mosques, churches and Liberal Democrat conferences, where unseemly sniggering may get him into trouble.

Doctor's note - do not let this patient pay by credit card.

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Tina B.

Patient T is a real intellectual giant, being a professor, no less, at Roehampton University (formerly the Oona Stannard School of Liturgical Dancing for Young Ladies). She tells me she is a Professor of Catholic Studies, but her enemies say that she is a Catholic in the same way that the Professor of Animal Behaviour is a Cat.

T came to me in a very distressed state, saying that she was now a laughing stock in the Catholic world, because her very exciting lecture on Lumen Gentium - why the Virgin Mary teaches us that gay relationships are the best was cancelled by the Diocese of Clifton for no obvious reason. What is more, her Beattie-platitudes or "Beattietudes" (e.g. Blessed are ye if ye preach against the Pope, because Tina will love you) were not regarded as highly as the original teaching in the Sermon on the Mount.

Doctor's note - needs to cut down on the Tablets.

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Will 'the smirk' come to haunt Thompson?

Patient D writes a universally-despised blog for a national newspaper, together with a dumbed-down Saturday column in which he strings together lots of trivial ideas. Currently he is editing the writings of the late Gladys Mills, which will appear next year as The Fit or The Gladys Mills fitness programme.

The quiet dignity of Mrs Mills, one of the greats of piano-playing

D has been mocked many times because of the ancient picture at the head of his blog. It shows a middle-aged character, wearing his old school blazer, whose expression has been variously described as "sneering" or "smirking." This grinning picture is used even on the rare occasions when D decides to treat a serious subject such as terrorism. Although not a compulsive sniggerer like S (q.v.) the patient D lacks that sense of self-awareness which should make him avoid such blunders.

Doctor's note - don't mention religion, it only upsets him.

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This patient believes he is being attacked by a giant bird

Lastly, N came to see me. Claims to be some sort of politician. He is worried that everyone who disagrees with him on any subject at all may be a bigot.

I mentioned Gladstone, Asquith and Lloyd George. He had not heard of them, but I told him that they were leaders of the party that he now serves. In order to stop him from biting my carpet, I persuaded him that they were all pioneers in the "gay marriage" movement.

Diagnosis: I believe the patient may have Brown's Syndrome, under which a person gets hysterical if they are disagreed with.

Doctor's note - that's odd, someone seems to have thrown my laser-printer out of the window.

De weddin of Tom Chivvers

Tom Chivvers in his weddin graments

Anti Moly and me is still stayin at Castle Thopmson in Notting Hell, but we doesn't see much of our host Damain Thopmson, as he is lockin himself away in his studdy to work on his new book, de definitive boigraphy of Glayds Mills, de concert painist.

Damain is very fond of paino music, especailly de classics. De great Stehpen Huogh was round here recently playin a meldey of his favuoite concert pieces, such as "Where did you get dat hat?" (arranged by Rachnaminov) and "We wish you a merry Christmas," wiv de immortal lines about "We all likes figgy puddings," which was condenmed by Paul Inwood as bein thoelogically too complex for de modern Cathlic chruch.

Stephen Huogh

Anyway, Damain looked up from writin his definitive account of Glayds Mills's weight probblems, to tell us, "By de way, my colleageu Tom Chivvers is gettin married on Satturday." Anti Moly has got a bit of a crush on Tom Chivvers, because he is pollite, charmin and non-Cathlic, and she put down her gin bottle and fainted dellicately.

Damain went onto explain dat de lucky bride was called Pat, but, because Tom is in de forefront of libberal thinkin, and likes to shock de traditoinalists, he wasnt sure whevver it was a man or a woman.

When my dere Anti recovered, she decided dat she would emullate de story of young Lockenvar, wot is a Scots chap who interrupted a wedding to carry off de bride on his horse.

Young Lockenvar on a horse

Since Tom is an athiest, he wasnt gonna get married in a chruch, althuogh dere is chruches in Soho and de Plymuoth diocese dat will do same-sex marriages (we saw a card in a tellephone box, "Kinky Cathlic weddins, all tastes catered for. Ask for Farver Muriel"). Instead, he had hired de Allbert Hall, as dere was gonna be quite a lot of poeple attendin. He was gettin Stephen Hawkin to conduct de weddin, a proniment atheist wot knows all about big bangs; he has also been competin in de Parrylympics.

Anti aint gotta horse, so I suggested dat, bein Austrialan, she could ride to de Allbert Hall on a crocodile, or maybe have a cart pulled by a team of wombats. But in de end she managed to borrow a donkey, and rode off on her heroic missoin.

Old Molyvar on a donkey (note de bridal bouqeut)

Well, I went dere by more traditoinal means, gettin Dan Hannan, Damain's chuaffeur, to drive me to de Allbert Hall. He refussed to obey de "Keep Left" signs dat David Cameron has been puttin up everywhere, so we was nearly late.

As you can see from de pitcher bellow, de weddin was well attended. Is dat Edwina Curry in de photto bellow?

Tom Chivvers Weddin. De geusts is very happy.

Well I has been keepin you on tenterhocks, but now I can reveel de identtity of de blushin bride, Pat. Well, Tom he is wot dey calls a geek or a nerd, and it turns out dat PAT is a laptop computter (PAT is Personal Applied Technology). Dis explanes a certian cryptic remark dat Damain's butler, Will Heaven, made, when he told Muvver Odone de cook, "I saw Tom wiv PAT on his lap again." Tom got de idea from a flim of Walt Sidney, and I fink dis is what de Chivvers fambly will look like in 15 years from now.

Tom Chivvers fambly, 2027

When Anti Moly learnt dat her successfull rivall was a computter, she said "Dat's reely woful," and decided to cancel de elopment. So Tom's weddin went ahead as planned. I aint often sentimenttal on dis blogg, which is normally written to provide spiritaul nuorishment, but I do fink de happy couple is made for each uvver. Readin his blogg, I has sometimes even wondered whevver TOM is de name of a computter, as well. Thinking Opinion Machine, maybe.

Anti Moly in a care home

Well, Damain Thopmson has alreddy hinted as much on his blogg, but we has had to have Anti Moly taken into care. As you may have heard, althuogh he keeps very quiet about it, Damain has got a new book out, called "De Fix," which is all abuot poeple gettin addicted to strange fings (like cupcakes, cannapeas and de paino playin of Mrs Mills). I helped him a lot wiv writin bits of it, but he didn't give me a complementary copy, so I ordered one from Amazzon.

De probblem started when de postman came to Castle Thopmson to delivver my copy of de book, and Anti Moly jumped out and bit him in de leg. She saw de uniform and mistook him for a Cathlic preist, she reely needs to stop drinkin dat hair-restorrer, it causes dellusoins. In fact we has had a lot of trubble wiv her lately, as Damain went to Mass and she insisted on comin along, just so dat she cuold sit in the front row goin "Woeful. ROFL. I aint a belleiver," and trying to interrupt poeple worshippin.

So for Anti Moly's own good we has had her put in a care home, where dey doesnt let you drink hair-restorrer, and tries to keep you calm. She is still allowed to use a lapptop, so dont worry, you wont miss out on her inimicable commentin on bloggs.

Now, as Damain was sayin on his blogg, we got George Cloony to come and visit as part of his charitabble work. Anti Moly was reely looking forward to this, as she says she watched one of his early flims, Return of the Killer Tomatoes! seven times. It's all about a tomato transsformation chamber by which dey can turn ordinary tomatoes into humans, and Anti Moly says dat dis was de theme of one Richard Dakwins's powerful books disprovin de existence of God. She also says dat me, Eccles, is de evidence dat such transformatoins can take place, dat's not nice, Anti.

Dat Cloony (wot is addicted to bad coffee, but dats annuver story) spent ten minutes talking to Anti Moly, and den got up and said, "On second fuoghts, I is gonna do somefink else for charrity. Give me a third-world pigsty to clean out instead. With my bare hands if necessary. Just get me out of here!"

Damain is incensed by dis, and has written a hard-hitting articcle about it, but I fink dat Mr Cloony may have a point, after all. We saved poeple is used to analysin deep moral questoins like dis one.