Moveable feasts

Although Catholics in England and Wales are apparently out of step with much of the rest of the Christian world, the Catholic Bishops' Conference has announced new arrangements for the major religious festivals.

And when the time came for Jesus to depart, He said "Let's do it on Sunday instead."

First, as has already been noted by many people, almost everyone - from the Pope downwards - believes that today is Ascension Day. However, the Magic Circle has decided to defer it to Sunday. This is believed to be because there is a highly important football match taking place tonight (Leicester v. Watford), which several bishops are unwilling to miss.

There is also Eastenders: apparently, Roxy finds herself in a dangerous situation when she gets some unwanted attention (a situation in which Vincent Nichols often finds himself).

Today is an unholy day of obligation, when all Catholics much watch Eastenders.

Looking ahead, the CBCEW has announced that Christmas Day has been moved to the nearest Sunday, December 22nd 2013. This will have the advantage that believers will be able to finish their Christmas shopping a few days before everyone else, and spend most of the next two weeks in an alcoholic stupor watching television, like the rest of the country.

Arrangements for Lent have similarly been altered. Ash Wednesday will of course become Ash Sunday (which is so much more convenient for everyone), and Good Friday will also become Good Sunday. There is an obvious technical problem here: thus, the Nicene Creed used in church has been modernised so that it now says that Jesus "rose again on the seventh day in accordance with the Scriptures." Which means in fact that the Bible will also have to be retranslated under the direction of the Magic Circle ("for forty days appearing to them" should have been "forty-three," anyway).

St Luke is persuaded to change "forty" to "forty-three."

The changes have been greeted with enthusiasm in some circles. Said a spokesman for the Tablet: "Ha ha, another kick in the teeth for the Pope! He should know that only religious nutters go to church on any day of the week except Sundays. And thank goodness we all stopped saying our prayers on weekdays, when Vatican II banned such practices!"

Christopher Robin is saying his prayers on a Thursday. What a Traddie reactionary!

All bishops asked to leave Britain

Following the Vatican's issuing of marching orders to Cardinal O'Brien, it was announced today that the entire "Magic Circle" of British bishops (apart from Davies and Egan, apparently) has been given 24 hours to leave the country.

"Now, I've asked all the usual suspects to assemble here."

It is said that Pope Francis is unhappy with various aspects of the bishops' conduct, such as their disregard of orthodox teaching, their encouragement of heresy, and their toleration of blasphemous Masses.

Heresy? All I want to do is rewrite Catholic teaching from scratch.

It is not yet clear where the bishops will be sent to, but our inside sources (Twitter) suggest:

Nichols: North Korea; Conry: Iran; Burns: Afghanistan; Murphy-O'Connor: Libya.

The nuncio, Archbishop Mennini, is said to be very relieved at the expulsion of the bishops, saying, "Since there are so few scandals in those dioceses which are sede vacante, it is clear that most bishops just get in the way. Maybe now we can get down to reviving orthodox Catholicism."

"Our flight should be boarding soon."

Adopt a Deacon!

Some of you will remember dat a few weeks ago I adopted a random cradinal - in fact de website assinged to me Cradinal Ouellet. De good man didn't make it to Pop, but he has been in de news recently, cos de Pop sent him to tell de English and Welsh bishops dat dey aint all saved, cos some of dem aint been standin up for truth and justice.

Why is it always you four that I read about on Eccles's blog?

Anyway, we gotta new scheme goin now, which is to adopt a deacon. After all, cradinals is generally pretty well off, both spiritaully and materially, whereas deacons is de lowest of de low, often wiv naggin wives and screemin kids, and perhaps a parish priest wot gets em to unblock de drains after Mass.

A liturgical plunger - essential equipment for a deacon.

Anyway, I singed up for de new "Adopt a Deacon" scheme, cos I know many very good deacons wot could benefit from a few prayers, gifts of old socks, and so forth. In fact dere is one wot lives in de beuatiful town of Barrow-in-Furness and runs a website called Protect de Pop. I was hopin to get him, so I buoght myself de ceremonial pjyamas of de Swiss Gaurd, so dat I cuold do a bit of pop-protectin myself.

My new pair of pjyamas.

Also I got a Swiss army knife, wot has got a special blade for stabbin atheists with.

Still, it was not to be, dey has assinged me a very miserable deacon in Croydon, wot spends his time moanin at uvver Cathlics. Dis is gonna be a big challenge for me but I is gonna bring a little sunshine into de man's life.

De place where I is gonna bring sunshine.

In fact dere has been even more recent developments, as I has been invited to become a deacon myself. I got dis very interestin e-mail from someone called Chuck Umunny in Nigeria, wot told me I could become a deacon by a correspondence course. All I gotta do is give him my bank detials, date of birth, and other pussonal detials such as de name of my favuorite actress (Tina Beattie). In fact de trainin won't take long, as it aint very hard to do deaconly fings, you just says de black and does de red, as a friend of mine puts it - and, of course, you puts de plunger in and woggles it a bit once de priest has blessed de drain.

I may also have to trade in my red beretta (to which, strictly speaking I is not entitled) for a deacon's hat. Dis is de one I has chosen.

Wot deacons gotta wear in church.

So, if de course goes as planned, I will soon be Deacon Eccles. I will keep you posted.

Magic Circle guilty of "inappropriate acts"

The Catholic church in England and Wales was reeling tonight after claims that a group of "Magic Circle" bishops had been engaged in "inappropriate acts."

Of course, the Scots have been reeling for some time.

An eye-witness, who has chosen to remain anonymous, told us what happened.

Witness: It was late at night, and the organic fairtrade herbal tea had been flowing quite freely, when some of the less restrained bishops started singing inappropriate songs.

Eccles: I see, and what sort of songs were these?

Witness: Well, it started with simple vulgarity like "Shine, Jesus, Shine," but then it became really offensive, and they began to sing Paul Inwood stuff: "Alleluia, Ch-Ch" and similar disgusting things. I didn't know where to turn.

A young Paul Inwood entertains a congregation in Portsmouth.

Eccles: I can see that you must have been really horrified. What happened next?

Witness: Well, I don't like to mention it in polite circles, but some of the bishops then produced magazines, and began reading out disgusting passages from them.

Eccles: Can you name one of these magazines for us? Take your time, if you are upset.

Witness: Well, the main one was the Tablet. There was some horrid woman called Pepinster writing in it: vile, shameful stuff that I didn't think any decent person would dare to put down on paper.

Top shelf only!

Eccles: And what did the bishops think of this?

Witness: Well, some of the bishops left hastily, as I did, but other were rubbing their hands and crying "There's one in the eye for the Pope!" Ugh, it makes me cringe just to think of that evening.

Eccles: Thank you very much, Mr Witness.

The Westminster Iron Tonic

After drinking Westminster Iron Tonic, I became an Olympic cyclist.

Are you a pathetic "Magic Circle" bishop, unwilling to take a stance on any issue at all? Do Telegraph journalists kick sand in your face? Are you fêted by the Tablet as someone who will never do anything to shake the liberal consensus?

TAKE WESTMINSTER IRON TONIC!

A spoonful of this daily, and you'll soon be noticed!

A satisfied customer, VN of London, writes:

I was a puny seven-stone archbishop, upon whom everyone looked down with scorn. They praised my macho friends Philip Egan and Mark Davies, while saying that I lacked backbone. But then my life changed...

The day I beat "mad dog" Williams in the archiepiscopal arm-wrestling championships.

My friend Tony Mennini told me to take a spoonful a day of Westminster Iron Tonic. I did so, and felt the iron rush through my bloodstream - yes, I had ferrous-crazed blood! In next to no time I had:

• Told David Cameron to get lost with his same-sex marriage proposals;
• Fought with a pack of rabid dogs;
• Kicked the gay masses out of Warwick Street, Soho;
• Bitten through an iron bar with my teeth;
• Welcomed the Ordinariate into a new church;
• Said "make my day, punk!" to Catherine Pepinster;
• Become the darling of traditional Catholics;
• Received a friendly telephone call from the Pope, promising me something red for my birthday.

I now train daily at the Olympic stadium.

WESTMINSTER IRON TONIC - YOU'LL BE A CARDINAL IN NO TIME!

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 new recriut

Bosco and me is very excitted today, as we got an e-mail from Damain Thompson. I will summarize what he said. In case you dont guess, dis is his message in my own words, as dey is easier to understand.

"Dear Bosco and Eccles, I has decided to stop bein a Cathlic, as de arguments from bruvver Bosco is so powerfull dat nobody can resist dem. You may already have geussed dat, since I has stopped postin bloggs on Cathlic issues, and is instead cuttin and pastin silly comments from Twiter about Ruppert Mudroch.

So from now on I is de enemy of Vincent Nickles, Kierran Conray, Arthur Rochhe, and de rest of dem pesky bishops in de Magic Circus. Dat includes Mary O' Conti and de others in Scottland. Dese folk can no longer expect me to say how devout and holly dey is. I has seen thruogh dem. Dey will be cricketised remorzelessly. To start off I is gonna write a blogg on dis controversial topic: 'Kierran Conray wears silly shirts'. I is expectin Paul Preist (On De Side Of De Angles) to come in with 1000 words on dis topic, tellin me I is a fool, but dis is a martydrom dat I must bear.

I aint sure about de Pop yet, I fink I will just tell peeple he is German, dats gonna shock em.

I is also gettin rid of my iddles and relicks, de statue of de Verger Mary have been frown in de bin, dis is what Jessus wants me to do. Also de lock of hare of Pop Jhon-Paul II wot I pinched when nobody was lookin, dat has been fed to de Daley Telegrapph's pet goat.

From now on, I wants to be saved like you, Bosco and Eccles, and I is gonna write a blogg in a totally different style, probbably modellin it on Bosco's luvvly writins.

Of course as a member of de Calumny Chappel I aint gonna stop bein a bloody crazy ferrett, and Pastor Redlight and de others is gonna have to watch out for my feirce condamnations of dere herresies. I only doin it to help save dere soles.

Yours sincerely,
Bruvver Damain of de Calumny Chappel."

So dere we have it. As it says in de Bibble, Rome is de horse of Babbleon, and noboddy can be saved unless dey is born agin.

I will come back to our own personal affairs soon. Here is de sort of service dat awiats Damain now dat he is saved.



And here are de Cathlics expressin dere greif at losin Damain.



Maybe I got de pitchers confussed. Who knows?