You must be Joe King

It has been reported that Mr Justice King (real name not Joe, but Tim) has upheld the sacking of science teacher Robert Haye by Deptford Green School after he told children that homosexual activity was disgusting and a sin, according to the Bible.

A Bible - don't tell kids what's in it, eh, Joe?

It is surprising that Mr King has a particular antipathy to the Bible, as it contains various other passages which show him in an undeservedly favourable light, such as:

Be wise now therefore, O ye kings: be instructed, ye judges of the earth. Psalm 2:10.

A king that sitteth in the throne of judgment scattereth away all evil with his eyes. Proverbs 20:8.

Mr Justice King scattereth away all evil with his eyes.

But perhaps the good judge is more worried that the following verse may become well known:

They are all hot as an oven, and have devoured their judges; all their kings are fallen: there is none among them that calleth unto me. Hosea 7:7.

A fallen king, having been kneed in the groin by a bishop (probably Philip Egan).

Although Mr Haye is perfectly correct in pointing out that homosexual acts are regarded in a somewhat dim light by the Bible, he is on dodgier ground when he says "anyone who worships on Sunday is basically worshipping the Devil." So, if you wish to worship the Devil, Mr King, it's the second Wednesday in the month only (coffee is available after the service).

Devil worship (er, basically, that is).

We must not leave without mentioning one of Joe King's finest moments as a lawyer (apart from this one, of course). It seems that in 2006 he happily defended BNP leader Nick Griffin on charges of inciting racial hatred. Admittedly, in their pursuit of money, lawyers are often expected to defend people whose views they don't agree with. I couldn't find an acceptable photo of Nick Griffin, so here is the next best thing.

The acceptable face of griffinhood.

It has not yet been determined in a court of law whether it is acceptable for schoolteachers to tell their classes that Mr Justice King is a complete idiot. Perhaps they will be able to work it out for themselves.

"Cameron's Pope" exonerated

David Cameron and Pope Benedict XVI. Were they really friends?

The Guardian, February 9th 2113.

The author of a new book, The Pope's Catholics, has found evidence that Pope Benedict XVI, long vilified as "Cameron's Pope," was in fact a good friend of those who were persecuted by the evil dictator during his rule between 2010 and 2015.

In his new book, Gordon Thomas explains that during the persecution of the Catholic church in the early part of the 21st century, Benedict XVI did not stand idly by, but actually attempted to defend Catholic doctrine.

Many Christians, and Catholics in particular, were dismayed when in 2014 Cameron brought in an "Equal Marriage" law, reducing the age of consent to 6, and allowing marital unions to involve all organisms, regardless of sex and species, provided that at least one human was involved. Although he had earlier given an assurance that this was not his intention, "the world had moved on," and earlier promises were no longer valid.

A happy bride, "hoping to have kids."

For Anglicans and Catholics, Cameron had given an "octuple lock" guarantee that they would not be forced to conduct such wedding ceremonies in church. This of course meant that it very soon became obligatory. When the "Bigotry Act" of 2014 was introduced, many priests were forced to go into hiding.

Of course, some quasi-religious people were delighted: Giles Fraser, the journalist and part-time vicar, had said "I am prepared to be boiled in oil, and have my toenails pulled out, but it won't stop me marrying three men and an elephant, if I am asked to."

A wedding party, on its way to St Mary's, Newington.

But what was Pope Benedict XVI doing while all these changes were being made? Well, unlike some of his bishops and clergy, and totally unlike some nominally-Catholic MPs, he did in fact speak up in defence of traditional marriage; indeed, he provided shelter for many persecuted priests who rebelled against the new laws. In particular Benedict promoted to cardinal the man who later became his own successor on the throne of St Peter, preferring him to the obvious candidate ("Vin Rouge" or "Red Vin"), whose moral leadership he considered to be very weak.

Philip Egan (later, Pope Pius XIII).

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!

An audience with Paul Inwood

Having read the startling comment from Paul Inwood, the Prostecnic Vogon Jeltz of Catholic worship, claiming that Pope Benedict - a mere novice in these matters - had made an incorrect statement about liturgy, I hurried down to Portsmouth for an audience with the great man.

Pope Paul VII.

The palace of Pope Paul VII is truly magnificent, as one would expect from a man of his distinction and importance (he told me). I entered and knelt before "the man who put the 'litter' in 'liturgy.'" Paul was sitting on a golden throne, and he graciously allowed me to kiss his ring. In one corner of the room, there stood a choir of mystic monks, intoning a solemn and dignified Gregorian chant. This surprised me, as I had been expecting a choir to be singing "Alleluia Ch-Ch" in one-part harmony, but it was later explained to me by an aide that "round here, Inwoodian chant is business, Gregorian is pleasure."

Hell - one place where you are sure to hear Paul Inwood's music.

So I asked the man they call the Head of the Caterwaul Church about his relations with his great rival in Rome. "Benedict is fundamentally a good man," he said, "although of course he is not an educated man like what I is, and he does not have access to an army of advisers as I do. No wonder he made the blunder of denying that Pope Paul VI had abrogated the EF Mass. Benedict evidently hadn't read the Encyclical De Musica Vulgarissima in which it was specifically asked that all content be removed from the liturgy, and that henceforth we should sing jolly songs involving finger-snaps and animal noises."

A modern congregation appreciates the music of Paul Inwood.

Knowing that Paul Inwood's pronouncements are generally believed to be infallible, I decided that here was a case of Pompeius locutus est, causa finita est.

"So how are you getting on with the new Bishop of Portsmouth, Philip Egan?" I asked. "I hear that he's something of a traditionalist."

"We get on very well," said his Howler-ness. "He is very concerned that I may be tired through overwork. The Bishop sends me all sorts of interesting literature about retirement schemes, and he suggests that a holiday home in Beirut would suit me down to the ground. It's good to be appreciated."

Before I left the holy presence, I persuaded Pope Paul VII to give me his blessing. "Bless you, bless you, bless you, Ch-Ch-Ch! Snap-Snap! Here a Moo, there a Moo, everywhere a Moo-Moo," he sang, making me feel at one with the beasts of the field with these simple but well-chosen words. Yes, I had been in the presence of a great man, or at least, "a man who grates."

Where ever you go, the music of Paul Inwood is to be heard